by William Cain
Addie has her hopes up. She’s prepared for this question, “I can’t tell you who committed the crime against your wife because I don’t know yet, but I can tell you who’s behind it. At least, who I think is behind it.”
Gen looks at her, and he thinks, if you can’t trust a cop, then who you gonna trust? Especially, this cop. He knows she’s waiting for a decision, and he’s not going to make her sweat it out any longer. He reaches into the pocket of the robe he’s wearing and pulls out his cell, punches in the number, and, when it’s answered, he says,
“I want the jet gassed up and waiting for me in forty minutes at Asheville Regional. I have a guest, a detective, and she’s going to Teterboro. Yes, that one, in New Jersey. Then I want a chopper to take her anywhere she has to go. She has carte blanche. Treat her like she’s me. Anything she wants. Car service, hotel, food, everything. File the flight plans. She’ll tell you more about it when she’s in the air. I’ll drop her off at the airport myself.” He wants to make sure she gets what she needs. He kind of likes her and finds himself thinking, if I had a daughter…
Addie steps forward and stretches out her hand to thank Battaglia. Abruptly, he pulls her toward him and embraces her quickly. She’s too surprised to respond in kind, or to pull away. He releases her just as quickly, and they look at each other for a moment, the cop and the mobster. They both can give a hard look, but they don’t and Addie simply tells him, no games played now,
“Thank you.”
Chapter 10 Really Good Friends
Feb
If I know what love is, it is because of you. Hermann Hesse
As they drive to the airport in his SUV, Addie tells Gen she’ll reveal who’s behind Elsie’s murder when she returns. She has to first give a certain someone a heads up of what she’s doing. Intrigued, he tells her he’s fine with it, inwardly thinking that he got Riggoti anyway, and he was the one. Looking up at the skies briefly, he tells her, “Nice day to travel, Detective. Sun’s out. Light wind.”
“My name is Addie,” she says, looking over to him.
“Ok, Addie, I like it. My really good friends call me Gen. Why don’t we be good friends?”
“Ok, Gen. I think I like that, too.”
“You worried about your friend Frank? Don’t be. His kid thinks the doctors there are thorough and, believe me, they are. New York has the best of the best—doctors, food, nightlife, you name it. You just get there and be with him, that’s the best medicine. You.”
“Here we are,” he announces as they pull up to security, and they drive through to the hangar and the waiting pilots. A young woman is with them, with the aircraft behind them. “Who’s the girl?” she asks.
“Daphne is your assistant for the flight and on the ground in New York. You’ll call her when you need anything and she’ll take care of it, make sure it’s one hundred percent what you asked for and one hundred percent on time delivered. While you’re in flight, she’ll make your meal and serve you drinks if you want. Now listen,” he says, “You have to eat, or you’ll be no good, so have her make a little something for you. Don’t be shy and do what you have to do.”
“Ok, Gen.” She leaves his company to join the others. As they board, she looks back at him, her new friend, and she smiles and waves. He makes little shooing gestures with his hands, and Addie disappears inside thinking, life gets weirder and weirder. Who’d have thought?
Before they lift off, while they’re taxiing, Addie reaches out to Helen, “I have to tell Battaglia about Spadaro, that he ordered the hit. I’m on his jet, it’s taking me to New York City. Frank was in a bad accident, but he’s alive. I haven’t told Gen about Spadaro yet. I told him I had to speak with someone first. That would be you.”
“Oh, Gen, huh? I suppose he calls you Addie. Isn’t that cute. Really good friends now.” Addie can almost hear Helen smiling, “I guess we’ll all break bread when you get back and jump into bed together.”
“I’m sorry if it might make a problem for you, Helen.”
“You just worry about Frank, not me. I was getting tired of following him around anyway,” Helen replies. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll get out in front of it before it’s a problem. I think I know what to do. It might even work more in my favor than you think. I’ll tell you about it when I see you next. Have a safe flight, bye.”
“Bye.” They both hang up, the jet leaves the ground, and she’s on her way.
The woman Daphne, seated across from her, asks her what she would like to eat. She can make almost anything after they’re airborne. After that, they can make the plans for her stay in New York. “Mr. Battaglia only has the best services, the best of everything, and we’re instructed by him to make sure you have it, too.”
“I need a drink,” Addie tells her, and they both share a light moment.
◆◆◆
Addie steps from the helicopter and is greeted by a hospital staff administrative assistant. Daphne has stayed behind with the pilots. She’s arranged the suite Addie will stay in until she returns to Asheville. She’s arranged for her limousine and driver and given her charge cards to use for any extras she might need. She’s arranged for everything; the helicopter, who’ll meet her at the helipad, everything. All Addie has to do is show up.
The hospital staffer leads Addie to the hospital elevator, and they arrive at the third floor. The hospital, located on the Upper East Side, is large, and it’s easy to get lost in. There are different colored lines on the floors stretching this way and that, and she and the assistant quickly follow the orange one that leads to the C wing on the third floor. Arriving at the nurse’s station, the assistant speaks briefly to them, and they look over at Addie, noticing her badge and service weapon she has sitting in her shoulder holster.
The assistant returns and takes her to a family room where they find Frank Jr. This is where the nurses said he’d be. He’s waiting for his dad to return from surgery. He practically leaps out of his chair when he sees Addie, “Damn! How did you get here so fast? I just got off the phone with you like four hours ago!”
“It’s a long story. How is your dad? Where is he?” Addie asks.
“He’s in surgery, he’ll be out soon. His shoulder needed fragments removed, and he needs a pin to keep it together and release the pressure. They’ll take it out in six months.”
“Ok, then we have a moment or two to meet each other, introduce ourselves.” Looking behind Frank Jr., she sees someone else, “Is this your mom Frédérica?”
The woman behind Frank Jr. stands up and holds out her hand, “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Henson, I am pleased to meet you.”
Adelaide is not surprised, Frank didn’t exaggerate. Frédérica is exotically gorgeous with reddish, wavy hair and full lips and a curvy, voluptuous body. “Hi, Frédérica. I’m pleased to meet you also.” She reaches for Frédérica’s hand.
The two women look each other over as subtly as one can in close quarters, and Frédérica tells her, “Frannie says his dad talks about you a lot. I see why. I like your gun.” She laughs a little, “It appears I have been replaced, finally.”
“All Frank does is ask for you, Adelaide,” she adds.
“I hope we can be friends,” Addie says.
In reply, Frédérica tells her, “Better than that, we will be the best of friends.” They release each other’s hands. Addie believes she’s looking at a changed person. Frédérica is no longer the stuck-up witch she used to be. She’s Frannie’s mom.
Then she looks over at Frank’s son. He looks just like his dad. Tall, with brown hair cut in an executive fashion, parted to one side neatly. His frame is lean, and she sees he’s got that musculature that only a man in his twenties would have. “He’s a lady killer for sure,” she says and catches him looking her over also.
“I’m really happy that you called me, Frank,” she says to him.
“Why don’t we skip the formalities, Detective. Everyone calls me Frannie. It beats getting confused with my dad all the time.” He steps fo
rward to take her hand and embrace her, whispering, “I’m glad you’re here.” Addie feels him shaking, trembling. She feels Frédérica’s hands on both their shoulders, and they open up and share the embrace, becoming emotional during that defining moment.
At that instant, the station nurse pokes her head in through the doorway and announces, “Mr. Thomas is returning to his room in one hour. He’s in post-op now.”
Addie asks the nurse where they like to order food from and how large the staff is on that floor.
“There are over 50 nurses and aides in the C wing on this floor, it’s a small fortune to order in for everyone,” the nurse tells her.
Addie pulls her phone out, dials Daphne, and looks over to the nurse and says,
“I have carte blanche.”
◆◆◆
Frank is taken to 302c, his room, and lifted into bed. Frannie, Frédérica, and Addie arrive shortly after. Addie releases a gasp when she sees him. Frannie wasn’t kidding, his father is injured. His left side from his lower ribcage to his cheekbone is red and purple, and he’s swollen in places. She’s seen worse, but she didn’t expect to see it on Frank. Frédérica hands her a tissue, and Addie notices for the first time that the two of them are crying a little, that they’re both choked up. They look at each other and, after a pregnant pause, they each issue a silly little laugh. Thankfully, he’s asleep, and the three of them find chairs and take a seat, watching and waiting for Frank to open his eyes.
Frédérica looks over at Addie, “How much did Frank tell you about us? If you don’t want to talk about what the two of you discuss, it’s ok.”
Frannie is listening in, trying to be the fly on the wall, and Addie replies after giving her answer some thought, “He told me he met you in France while he was there during his studies. That you had a baby together, married later, and that you moved here a few years after that. He said your divorce was hard on him, and he was sad for a long time. He thought he was going to turn out like his natural father. It worried him. If it wasn’t for Frannie, he didn’t know how’d he keep grounded. That’s pretty much it,” Addie tells her, not adding the part about Frédérica cheating on him.
“I don’t want him back,” Frédérica says, and Addie believes her. “I screwed up, and it’s over. But we have our son, and it looks like our family may be growing soon, and I’m fine with that.”
Addie doesn’t know exactly what she means, and maybe Frédérica knows more than she herself does. She thinks Frédérica’s relieved she and Frank have a civil relationship now, and it’ll remain that way.
The dialogue and shared experiences the two women engage in are revealing. Neither is holding too much back and at times they share a laugh or two. Even Frannie jumps in once in a while. There’s something about having someone close to you that’s hurt or sick that makes people speak plainly and honestly.
◆◆◆
Day turns into night, and suddenly Frank opens his eyes and three fuzzy faces turn toward him. It takes a while to focus, to remember what happened, why he’s here, wherever that is. Then it comes to him, the crash, it’s why he can’t see straight. The truck that hit him from the side. He begins to reach up to feel his cheek and finds that he can’t, that his shoulder is bandaged, but he can feel around with his other hand that his torso is bandaged about the rib cage and his left side underneath his arm feels tight and sensitive.
He finishes exploring, thinking, oh great, half my body is out of commission. As he opens his mouth to speak, with difficulty, Frannie is suddenly hovering over him, and Frank asks him, “Did the other driver make it?”
Frannie looks into his dad’s one good eye and tells him the other person, a woman in her forties, died on impact. Frank digests that and purses his lips and tells his son, “Take my hand and let’s say a quick prayer for her.” When they’re done, he asks, “Am I going to be ok?” Frannie nods quickly, repeatedly, still holding his father’s hand.
“I have to tell the nurses you’re awake,” he says and releases Frank’s hand, but before he can turn, a voice behind him tells the two of them that Frannie’s mom has already left the room to find the nurse and tell her.
Frank tries to lift his head to see the person that said that, but Frannie’s in the way, and, as Frannie moves aside, Frank can make out the outline of a woman. As the woman steps closer to the bed he’s lying in, he hears her crying softly, but he still can’t see clearly. Her hands are close to her face, and he can hear her trying to regain control, keep some composure. As she nears, he can make out her face, see her gun. He raises his hand to his mouth, pointing to it, and says, “This is me smiling.”
Addie lets go and cries loudly, putting her hands on Frank and placing her head sideways on his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, “I was so worried. Oh God, Frank. I was so worried. I thought I had lost you. Oh God,” words are flowing between sobs and gulps of air and wiping her nose, “I’m a mess. Oh God, Frank,” He wraps his arm around her and holds her tight.
“You’re not going to lose me, Adelaide. You’re never getting rid of me. Just stay like this for a while, it’s making me feel better.” Frannie hears his cue and brings a chair closer for Addie to sit in, then steps back to make a mental picture of what he sees. It’s a painting, a woman sitting, her arms and head resting sideways on a man’s chest. He in a hospital bed, bandaged, his arm draped over the woman’s shoulders, both staring straight ahead in different directions, the stark fluorescent light behind and above, monitors chirping and small lights blinking, a dark winter night.
And it begins to snow.
◆◆◆
Frank falls back to sleep. Soon after, Frannie tells Addie he’s going home for the night. He’s driving his mom home, too. Addie walks them out and bids farewell. She returns to Frank’s room, and hours pass by.
He wakes up. It’s early, around four, and she’s there, asleep in the chair beside his bed. He sees better now, and, as he places his hand on her head, stroking her hair, she wakes up and looks at him. “Hi, Adelaide. I’m not in much pain anymore. Looks like the doctors were right. I guess I needed a little work to relieve the pressure on my shoulder. Now it’s just a matter of healing.” Looking down, he tells her, “I feel bad about the woman that died.”
He continues, “I remember Frannie told me he called you. He said you cried a lot.”
She rises from the chair and sits on the bed, on his right, “When he called, I thought it was you. You can tell he’s your son alright. He sounds exactly like you.” She looks straight into his eyes, “Frank, when I thought I lost you, my whole world was destroyed. I’ve been denying myself, you, running away, pushing you away. I was…am…angry with myself for doing that. On the way here I felt so much shame at the way I acted.”
He tells her about his frame of mind the last few months, how confused and sad he was.
“And it’s over now? It won’t happen again?” he asks.
Guiltily, she shakes her head.
They talk extensively about her parents. He wants to meet them. They talk about his sisters who they haven’t talked about much. She asks what Joe was like. She tells him about her job as a detective, with a possible promotion to captain. They talk about their feelings for each other, about other people. Frank doesn’t like that many people. He doesn’t dislike them, just that he’s indifferent towards them. He likes interesting, intelligent, active people—she finds that she feels the same way. Each has a limited number of friends. He plays tennis, and maybe she should pick it up. He could teach her. She knows where he’s going with that, putting his arms around her to help with her “swing,” and what’s wrong with that? he asks, and she tells him “nothing.” It’ll be fun, she says, but first you have to heal.
“Remember when you told me you don’t lie to people you care for?” she asks him, and he nods. “You’d never lie to me, would you?”
“No, not you.”
She’s in all the way, the door has opened.
“I love you, Frank.”
“I’ve loved you since I met you,” he says.
They study each other for a moment. This is going to be big, they can both feel it.
“Marry me, Adelaide.”
With a look of understanding, she bluntly says, “We don’t know each other well enough, silly.”
“I won’t let you pull that one. I think I know you pretty good,” he declares, “You like to laugh, but don’t have enough chances to.”
She nods.
“One of the reasons you haven’t met the right guy is that there aren’t that many suitable men that are as smart as you are.”
She nods.
“Once you meet someone you like, you dumb yourself down. But the real you comes out, and they’re intimidated and they run away.”
She hides her face and nods.
“I won’t run away,” he promises.
After a moment, she looks at him with teary eyes, smiles, and says, “I’ll think about it,” kissing him on the right side of his lips.
Before she can say anything else, he reaches over to the table beside him. “I have something to show you,” he says, and, from the drawer, he pulls out what looks like a ring. “I made this from my bandages while you were sleeping next to me.” He takes her hand in his and brings her closer. “Hold it right there,” and he slips the cloth ring onto her finger.
She looks at the ring, then looks at Frank. She pauses briefly, staring at the man in the hospital bed on this cold winter night and makes her mind up, “I thought about it. The answer is yes. I will marry you.”
She starts for the door and goes to the nurse’s station. As the nurse looks up, Addie tells her, “I need some alone time with the patient in 302c, he just asked me to marry him.”
The nurse studies her for a moment, then sees her badge and service weapon. She looks at the clock. She combs through her records and finds the information about 302C, Thomas, Frank. She reads the file and reviews it carefully. After a few minutes, she turns back to Addie, looking up at her. “You have forty minutes, stay away from his upper left side torso, contusions, surgery.”