by JM Darhower
“Absolutely,” he said, scooting closer to her. “Anytime, anyplace.”
She laughed as he ran his hand up her inner thigh, and she pushed him playfully. “Not now, not here.”
He held his hands up. “Fine, let’s play some piano then.”
Her hands shook as he helped her through the bars of the song twice. She gave it a try on her own then and messed up on the third note, but she was persistent. It took awhile before she was able to run through the simple notes, and it wasn’t close to being harmonious or smooth, but the smile on her face made every second of frustration worth it for Carmine.
She tried to play it again and messed up after the first few notes, groaning. Attempting to continue, her fingers pressed down on the keys when a voice rang out behind them. “Mozart?”
Carmine nearly fell off the piano bench when he swung around. “Christ, Corrado. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”
He raised his eyebrows and repeated his question. “Mozart?”
“Uh, I guess you could say that. He did some variations on it.”
Corrado’s attention shifted to Haven. “Mi ricorda tua madre.”
Reminds me of your mother. The words made Carmine blanch. “What?”
Corrado just stood there, looking at them but not elaborating on his statement. After a moment he spoke again. “Sei felice?”
Carmine nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Haven stared down at the floor, and Carmine realized she didn't understand a word of what Corrado was saying. He couldn’t even imagine what sort of translations she was conjuring up in her mind.
“I love her,” he said, wanting to ease her worries. “More than anything.”
Nodding, Corrado walked away without another word. After he was out of sight, Carmine turned back to Haven. “Do you wanna play some more?”
She shook her head. “What did he say?”
“He asked if I was happy with you. Nothing of importance.” He groaned after the words rolled from his lips. “Not saying that’s not important, or that you aren’t important, because you are. I’m just saying it’s not a big deal or whatever. Well, I mean, it is a big deal, but—”
Haven covered his mouth with her hand to shut him up. “I get it, Carmine. I love you too.”
* * * *
Night fell, the house as still and silent as a graveyard. Vincent sat in his office, glaring at the plate on his desk. The small sliver of cake was just enough to taste it, but the thought of taking a single bite made his stomach churn.
Maura always made Italian Cream cake. It had been her favorite.
He fingered the small gold band around his neck, his pinky finger barely fitting halfway through it. The metal was startlingly cold against his skin but not as cold as Vincent felt inside.
After another minute of staring at the cake, he picked up the plate and tossed it into the trash. It hit the bottom of the empty wastebasket with a loud clank, and Vincent didn’t give it another thought. He slipped the necklace under the neckline of his shirt again, concealing it, and picked up a stack of papers on his desk.
X-ray’s, consultations, broken bones, stitches. Diseases, rashes, infections, viruses. It was all so depressing, one awful diagnosis after another, but Vincent preferred it to the morose thoughts swimming in his head.
For as many lives as he’d destroyed, as many people as he’d watched die, there were countless others that he’d saved. And as exhausted as he was, he knew somewhere in the mound of files in front of him had to be another patient that could take the sting of death away.
If only for a little while.
* * * *
The next day, for the third morning in a row, Carmine woke up all alone. He pulled on a pair of pants before moseying toward the stairs, pausing in the middle of the library when he heard Haven’s laughter coming from Dominic’s room. Walking over to the door, Carmine knocked when he realized it was locked.
“Go away!” Dominic yelled. “We’re busy in here!”
Carmine’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean you’re busy?”
“I mean, we’re busy, bro,” Dominic hollered. “My turn. I’m gonna hit it good and proper to show you how it’s done.”
There was a pop before Haven yelped. Carmine started banging louder on the door. “You better let me in before I break in.”
“Maybe we should let him join,” Haven said.
“No! He’s always monopolizing your time and this isn’t Monopoly, twinkle toes. This is my chance to have a turn with you.”
Carmine grabbed the doorknob, wiggling it. “Open the door.”
“Sorry. Come back when I’m done with her.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Trouble, man,” Dominic said. “Nothing but some trouble. Come here, Haven. Give me your hand and let me show you how to work it.”
Carmine shoved the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Why are you touching her? What are you showing her?”
“Do it harder,” Dominic said, ignoring his brother. “Yeah, like that. No, wait, where are you going, Haven?”
“I’m going to let Carmine in,” she said. “Maybe he wants to play.”
“Aw, man, he ruins all the fun.”
“Carmine doesn’t ruin anything,” she said pointedly as the lock clicked and the knob turned, the door opening. Carmine’s brow furrowed when he saw his brother relaxing on the floor with his legs spread out in front of him.
“I told you. Trouble. We’re playing Trouble,” Dominic said, pointing at the board game on the floor. “Or we were until you barged in. Always jealous. You already called dibs on Mario, you cheating motherfucker. You can’t give us this?”
“I don’t cheat, you do,” Carmine said, nodding toward the game. “Finish playing, baby, before he has a temper tantrum.”
Haven plopped back down beside Dominic, who threw his arm over her shoulder and made a kissing face. Carmine rolled his eyes and shut the door, refusing to let his brother get him riled up.
Anymore.
Carmine grabbed the remote to his brother’s TV and flipped through the channels for a few minutes while they played their game. Settling on some news, his mind drifted for a while until Haven’s voice rang out, her words startling him. “I know him.”
She pointed at the TV. On it was a picture of an older man with gray hair and a headline that said “Local Doctor Missing.” Carmine turned up the volume in just enough time to catch the report. “…was last seen leaving his office at around eleven fifteen on the evening of the second. His car was located a few hours later in the French Broad River, but there was no sign of the doctor or any indication of what may have come of him. If you have any information on the disappearance of Dr. Morte, please call our tip line.”
He turned the volume back down as the story switched to one about new traffic patterns, and Dominic laughed. “Dr. Morte. That’s some Kevorkian shit. How do you know him?”
“He’s the one your father took me to,” Haven said, her attention turning to Carmine. A knowing expression flashed across her face when the reality of it dawned on her. Dr. Morte wasn’t missing. He was dead. And now they knew where Corrado had been that night.
While Carmine wasn’t sure if she’d figured out why, if she’d drawn the conclusion that it was likely because of her, he didn’t doubt she eventually would. She’d realize the truth someday. It was only a matter of time.
After all, he couldn’t shield her forever.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. After they finished their game, Haven cooked lunch, and Corrado and Celia had to catch a plane back to Chicago. It was odd, watching his uncle that afternoon and knowing he’d probably killed someone a few days before. Carmine had heard the stories about Corrado, the violence he’d caused and the men he’d killed, but it was the first time he’d ever had a name and a face for one of his victims.
Corrado seemed unaffected, so blasé about it all. The lack of emotion terrified Carmine.
Chapter 37
; The warm June weather quickly gave way to a sprawling Carolina heat as July dawned. Triple-digit temperatures seeped into the region, stirring up scattered thunderstorms and intermittent showers nearly every day. Fireflies emerged again, flickering in the night sky, as a sense of contentment settled over Haven.
She ventured outside with Carmine every day, strolling through the backyard in her bare feet. She climbed trees and chased bugs, picked flowers and ran through sprinklers, all the while Carmine stood back and urged her on. His support became invaluable to her, and Haven couldn’t imagine going a single day without him.
She’d have to, though. They both knew it.
“Aren’t you gonna be late, bro?” Dominic asked as he walked into the family room where the two of them sat. Haven sighed exasperatedly, having asked that same question a moment ago. She’d been trying to get Carmine to leave for the past thirty minutes, but he wouldn’t budge, no matter what she said.
Carmine slouched down. “I’m not going.”
Dominic laughed. “Why? Scared you’ll get hurt?”
“I’m not afraid,” Carmine said.
“Then quit whining and go.”
Carmine grumbled incoherently, still not appearing like he had any intention of moving. He was scheduled to attend football camp for a week in Chapel Hill. He’d seemed fine with going away and talked incessantly about what he'd do when he was there, and she’d listened, although she didn’t know what encroachment or interference or any of that other stuff meant. She was just grateful he was sharing something with her.
But when Haven opened her eyes this morning, there was no smile on Carmine’s lips. None of the excitement was present anymore. All she saw was her own anxiety reflecting back to her.
“You have to go,” she said at the same time he spoke, uttering those words he’d been repeating all day long: “I’m not going.”
Haven thought Carmine’s tenacity was part of his charm, but it was beginning to be maddening.
“You have to go,” she said again.
He ignored her and pretended to be interested in the television, but she could see his eyes drifting to the clock. Time was running out, and they both knew it. He was supposed to be at the University of North Carolina by five that evening to check in and it was already a few minutes after one.
“I’ll still be here when you get back.”
His eyes snapped in her direction. “Of course you will. Where else would you be?”
She sighed—that was the wrong thing to say.
“Don’t worry about her, man,” Dominic said, walking up behind them. “I have plans for her this week. I’m going to keep her so busy she won’t even realize you’re gone.”
Haven smiled but didn’t believe his words for a moment.
“You’ll get her in more trouble than she could ever find on her own,” Carmine said. “Maybe that’s why I’m not going.”
Dominic laughed. “If you aren’t going, you must not trust her.”
Anger flashed across his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Afraid she can’t hack it without you?”
“I know she can.”
“So why aren’t you going?”
Carmine glared at him but didn’t respond.
The front door opened after a moment, and Dr. DeMarco paused in the entrance to the family room. “I thought you’d be gone by now,” he said, focusing his attention on Carmine. “Aren’t you going to be late?”
Carmine’s expression softened into a pout. “Would you people get off my nuts? I’ll go in a minute.”
Dr. DeMarco shook his head and walked away while Dominic punched Carmine on the shoulder. “That’s it, be a man! The sooner you leave, the sooner Haven and I can start having fun.”
Carmine rubbed his arm but once again didn’t respond to his brother. Dominic walked out, and Carmine pulled Haven to him. “I’d hide you in my suitcase and take you with me if I could.”
“Don’t worry. Go do some field goals and play some runs.”
“I’m the quarterback, tesoro. I don’t kick field goals. And it’s called running plays, not playing runs.”
“Oh. Well, go quarterback then.”
He laughed and let go of her. “Don’t let that cafone make you do something you don’t wanna do, okay?”
“Okay. It’s only a week, so I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure who she was reassuring more with her words, him or herself.
He nodded, running his fingertips across her cheek, and kissed her one final time before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”
“Goodbye, Carmine,” she said, the words making his steps falter as his shoulders tensed. She thought he was going to turn around and say something to her, but he simply walked out, shaking his head.
She sat quietly in the family room as he grabbed his stuff and headed for the front door. “You’re definitely going to be late,” his father said from the foyer.
“I’m going. Isn't that enough?”
* * * *
Carmine’s bedroom was quiet and still that night, the room feeling void without his presence. Haven tip-toed inside and snatched his favorite pillow off of his bed before running back to her room and shutting the door behind her. She crawled into bed and snuggled with it. His familiar scent lingered, surrounding her like a warm shroud.
Closing her eyes, Haven pleaded for sleep to come quickly.
The next morning, a loud banging ricocheted through the room, and Haven jumped out of bed as Dominic’s voice carried through the door. “Rise and shine! We have things to do.”
She glanced at the clock, surprised it was only a few minutes past seven. She pulled open the door when Dominic knocked again, and he grinned brightly, raising his eyebrows. “Too tired to get changed last night?”
Glancing down, she realized she still had her clothes on from the day before. “I didn’t think about it. Why are you up so early?”
“Because I’m starving! Breakfast is in order.”
“Did you want me to make you something?”
He laughed. “Of course not. Damn, girl, are you even awake yet? Do you really think I’d drag you out of bed for you to cook? We're going out for breakfast.”
Crossroads Diner was packed when they arrived. Much to the dismay of some waiting patrons, Dominic was able to get a table right away.
Haven slid into the booth as the waitress approached and chatted with Dominic. Looking through the menu, Haven ordered French toast while Dominic rattled off a list of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, fruit, and toast. She wasn’t surprised because she was used to feeding him, but he smiled sheepishly anyway. “What can I say? I’m a growing boy.”
“I think you’re done growing, Dom.”
He laughed, pushing up his shirtsleeve and flexing his weak muscle. “I need fuel, though. These guns are the only ones I carry and they don’t come naturally, little sis.”
“Little sis,” she said, echoing his words.
“Yeah, it's what you are,” he said. “Someday you’ll possibly make it official by marrying my shithead little brother.”
She smiled at the thought.
The waitress returned with their food, and the two of them started to eat. Despite the fact that the place was noisy, a comfortable silence surrounded their table.
“Did you ever think it would be this way?” Dominic asked after a few minutes.
She glanced at him. “What way?”
He waved his fork in the air, motioning all around them. “This way. Coming here, having a life, getting a family, meeting Carmine. All of it, really. Did you ever think this would happen?”
She contemplated his question as he took a bite of his food. “My mama always said I'd end up somewhere like this, but I just figured I was given the life I had and the most I could do was get used to it.”
“I can relate,” Dominic said. “Did you know I was adopted?”
She was caught off guard. “No.”
“I am. My real mom… well, no,
forget that. Maura was my real mom in every way that counted. The woman who gave birth to me was raped, and out I popped.”
Haven’s mouth dropped open. “I was made the same way.”
“I figured you were,” he said. “See, you and I aren’t that different. None of us are when it comes down to it. The only difference is my mom stumbled upon me at the right time and saved me from what could’ve been a disaster of a life. I wonder all the time where I’d be if they hadn’t taken me in.”
“You got lucky.”
“I did,” he said. “You and Carmine aren’t that different, either. My brother’s a spoiled little shit—that’s why he’s so picky. Everyone has always catered to him. Not saying I was neglected, because I wasn’t, but Carmine received attention that I never had to deal with.”
“What kind of attention?”
“Attention from, uh… my dad’s friends.” He glanced around, seeing if anyone was listening. “There’s this photo album at the house of pictures from our childhood, and it’s easy to tell looking through it how different we were viewed. At my christening, there were about two dozen people. It was relaxed, with a potluck at the house for family and friends. Carmine’s christening was only a few months after mine, and hundreds of people came to show their respect. The event had to be catered and held in a rented reception hall.”
Haven frowned. “That’s horrible.”
“Not really,” he said. “I’m sure I was a jealous when I was young, but I don’t envy my brother at all. Before he could walk or talk, people were showering him with gifts and making plans for his future. And those people don’t do that for no reason. They expect something in return, and I’m grateful they never put that kind of pressure on me.”
“Why him?” she asked. “Why not you?”
“Because he’s my dad’s son, and that’s what they care about—the Italian blood.” He paused. “Or what they used to care about. I don’t know anymore. But anyway, back to what I was saying. Carmine’s spoiled, but deep down he’s still a terrified little boy, trying to figure out where he belongs, just like you’re still that girl looking for her place in the world. You two were searching for the same thing. My mom would’ve called that fate.”