For Love of Livvy
Page 21
Marcus smiled back and leaned across the counter to brush his lips against mine.
"Will you be at your mother's for dinner tonight?” He asked after a short while.
"Why, you want to go with me?” I asked with a broad grin.
"Nope, but I thought you might bring back some leftovers.” He chuckled.
"Between you and Aaron, I should write you guys off my taxes. Do you realize you two eat here more often than not?"
His brows knit together and he said, “I didn't know Romeo eats here with you. What else does he do?"
"Reports back to you, that's what."
"As long as that's all he does. No extras, right?"
"No extras,” I fibbed, but who was counting. I wasn't sleeping with Grant. I just ate dinner with him and had a smooch in between. Nothing that I took advantage of either, so I figured I was safe.
After Marcus left, I called Lola and explained what had happened. I figured she'd be a wreck when I didn't call her. I was right, she'd been on the lookout for Kenny and Frankie, but hadn't seen either man. It never occurred to her that Kenny was in drag.
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Chapter 22
My days evened out as did my nerves. Aaron remained in the apartment upstairs as my tenant extraordinaire. Marcus visited often. Lola, a fixture when she had time, spent a lot of time with me, often grilling food in the back yard.
The one thing that still bothered me was the fact that Livvy's death remained in the unknown causes category. The two dummies maintained they had done nothing to her. Hard as it was, I did believe them. The cops, well that's another matter. They never believed anyone, so there you have it.
My mother came to grips with the fact that we might never know why Livvy died in her car on a cold winter night all by herself. Truth be told, I thought it bothered Mom, though she said it didn't. Auntie Muffy was supportive to my mother and that meant a lot.
We all supported Aunt Josephine in her time of need. It's not easy to have a son who is a bum, but to have two of them, well that's a difficult thing to deal with. She did ask me once if I would sell the business to the boys when they left prison. Talk about positive thought. I wondered whether she might have thought if the dummies had something good to work at then they'd tow the mark. We all need to have faith in something, I guess.
One day ran into another as the summer fled. It was hot and humid in August when the air conditioning crapped out. The technician was called in to work on the unit. I worked in the basement, it was cooler down there. Some of Livvy's things had been packed in the cellar when I'd first moved in. Mostly clothes that I hadn't had the heart to get rid of. It was time to move them out of the house and into someone else's.
Piles of clothes consisted of summer apparel, winter clothing and oddball items. The oddball clothing didn't exactly fit into any category, thus the name. As they shook loose, I laid them in the correct pile going through each container with care.
A luxurious winter coat lay at the bottom of the bin. Holding it up, I shook it. An envelope fell free of the pocket. I tossed the coat onto the winter heap and reached down for the envelope.
The postmark was dated during the same month Livvy died. I stared at it for a few seconds and then turned it over in my hands. Inside the envelope was a bill from a health center addressed to Lavinia Ciano. My hands shook as I straightened the crease in the business sized paper and read it.
The words were slow to sink into my brain, but I leaned against the stack of bins, and then sat on the two lowest to the floor. My aunt suffered from apnea, a disease where breathing ceases during sleep. This was the first I'd known of it. I was sure my family had no knowledge of it as well. Private about her personal stuff, it fit that we wouldn't know of Aunt Livvy's affliction.
Rushing upstairs, I clicked the computer onto the internet. When I'd pulled up the information on apnea, I read the basics and then put in the health center website. A slew of physician's names popped onto the screen with a description of what each one's specialty. I scribbled Dr. McNutly's name on the envelope along with the phone number.
Two hours later, I sat in front of a short balding man with black framed glasses and a beak the size of Florida. His voice was nasal and he suffered from a lisp. I explained who I was, though he said he knew since I resembled Livvy so closely. The small man sat in silence while I told him of how Livvy had been found dead in her car. When I stopped talking he leaned forward, hands folded on the desktop.
"I wondered why she didn't return for more treatment. I was away for most of that month at a medical seminar in France. I wasn't aware she had passed away. You and your family have my deepest sympathy."
"Thank you,” I said. “What were the warnings you issued when she was treated for apnea?"
"We went over many treatment possibilities. One included headgear worn during sleep that will awaken a person should breathing cease. Another thing I mentioned to Lavinia was that she shouldn't drink to any great extent."
My eyes popped open wide. Marcus had given me the report from the coroner's office showing Livvy's blood alcohol had been elevated. If she'd been stopped by the police, she'd have been arrested for driving under the influence.
Repeating the elevated number to the doctor, I asked, “If she'd fallen asleep, what would be the likelihood of her awakening if she'd stopped breathing?"
"It would depend on the severity of the attack, whether she was intoxicated and if she was cold. Those three things are determining factors. But it could very well have happened that way. She suffered from severe apnea, and I recommended she go into a sleep clinic for study. She refused, of course."
My heart lifted, I knew I'd found the answer to the vexing question. Whether I wanted it to be so or whether it was indeed true that Livvy had died from an attack of apnea we'd never know for certain. Satisfied that this was an explanation for her cause of death, I left the doctor and went to see my mother.
We sat outside and drank wine in the late day sun. Sweat dripped off my face as heat streamed across the yard. I gave my mother the news as I knew it and showed her the statement from the health clinic. There was a certain amount of satisfaction for having solved that mystery.
Tears welled up in my mother's eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She brushed them away with a sigh and leaned forward to give me a swift embrace.
"If anyone could find out, it would be you. Even Gio couldn't answer my questions, and he's a doctor. I don't think it ever occurred to him. Thank you, Lavinia, you make me proud."
I smiled and said, “Marcus says I make him nuts with my nosiness. I like your compliment better than his description of me.” I chuckled to lighten the moment.
Mom glanced over and then smiled slowly. “How is Marcus? When are you bringing him to dinner?"
Time to leave, I thought, just as a grey Crown Vic rolled into the driveway. There'd be no escape now. I smiled as Marcus stepped onto the deck. He looked dapper in uniform, chick magnet that he is.
"Any food to be had around here?” he asked with a charming grin and a sparkle in his eyes.
My mother shot out of the chair. Lest he starve to death before he could be fed, my mother launched into the kitchen. Cupboard doors slammed and the fridge opened and closed. My mother was in the process of whipping up some tasty concoction for what she hoped was the man of my dreams. I could see it now, she'd badger me alongside my father. Gosh, did it ever end?
A broad grin covered Richmond's face as he listened to my mother build him a scrumptious delight. The only delight I considered scrumptious was the one sitting beside me. With that thought, I leaned toward him and licked his smiling lips with the tip of my tongue.
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About the Author
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J. M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to stimulate the imagination much like she wields her paint brush. The pages are a blank canvas on which JM draws vivid characters. For Love of
Livvy is the first in a series of novels featuring Lavinia Vinnie Esposito's story. JM lives in rural Rhode Island, a state she considers colorful and interesting.
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Visit www.lachesispublishing.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.