by F. P. Lione
I went to kiss my mother hello, and she gave me her cheek and continued talking to Vinny without turning to acknowledge me. This was her way of letting me know she was angry at me and that she wanted me to try and figure out why. Forget that. I was tired of playing this game every time I saw her. Everyone else but Marie and Nicole greeted me with a kiss or a hug. I could feel the underlying tension and hoped something would break the ice and put everyone at ease.
“We sold the house,” Marie said smugly, smiling first at me then my mother. I picked up my coffee and found a bug in it so I cracked open a beer instead. Denise and Sal walked into the yard. Denise looked upset, Sal looked concerned.
“Mom’s looking for a fight today,” Denise said to me.
“Why, what happened?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I guess the house being sold. The first person that looked at it bought it. They gave a tentative closing date of September 15. Marie loved telling Mom. I felt sorry for her, but when I tried to kiss her, she turned her face. I asked if she was all right, and she wouldn’t answer. She’s only talking to Vinny, her baby.”
“Just ignore her, Denise. Let’s just have a good time.” I gave her an affectionate hug.
“Your mother’s pretty cold,” Sal added.
“You have no idea,” Denise replied.
Things went pretty smooth while we ate. Vinny grilled burgers, hot dogs, steak, and sausage on the grill. There were peppers and onions, baked beans, potato and macaroni salad. My grandmother made a tomato salad with red onion and basil and a tray of baked ziti, just in case someone wanted hot food. Once everyone was full, Grandma and I put the perishables back in the refrigerator.
Vinny came into the kitchen and asked that we come out onto the deck for a minute. I thought he wanted to point out a ship coming through the channel or something because he seemed pretty excited. Christie must have just arrived; she stood next to Vinny with her hands behind her back, smiling up at him.
Vinny beamed as he spoke. “Everyone, I want to announce that last night Christie and I got engaged.”
Shouts and applause went up around the deck. My grandmother let out a cheer and started to cry. Christie pulled her left hand out and showed us a nice-sized diamond ring. I was hurt for a second because I couldn’t believe Vinny hadn’t told me before. I’d always thought that if one of us got engaged, the other would help pick out the ring. I didn’t say anything, just gave him a bear hug and welcomed Christie to the family.
I was stupid enough to think that Vinny’s engagement would be the thing to lighten up the party, but it was the very thing that started the war. Everything was okay at first—Vinny produced two bottles of champagne, and we all toasted the couple. My brother asked me to be his best man, and Christie asked Denise to be a bridesmaid. We heard my mother mutter, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” and I saw the look of pain pass over Denise’s face. My father held up his glass and said, “A toast, to Vinny and Christie on their engagement and their future. May they be happy and healthy.” My dad loved to play the father when people were watching.
“I’ll drink to that,” I said.
“You’ll drink to anything,” I heard my mother mutter. Aunt Patty leaned over and whispered something to her, and she made a face.
“Salute!” Grandma said loudly, trying to run interference.
I had to give Denise credit for not reacting. That is, until my mother said, “Vinny’s younger than you, Denise. What are you going to do, live with Tony forever?”
“Mom, this is their moment. Can’t we just let them enjoy it?” Denise said.
My mother saw Sal look at her and shake his head, so she threw Denise a dirty look. I grabbed another beer from the cooler and offered Denise one, but she shook her head.
“Have a drink Tony, that’ll fix it,” my mother said sarcastically.
I lifted my bottle to her. She was holding a red plastic cup that I knew was filled with wine, and she mock saluted me with it.
“That’s enough, Marilyn,” my father warned.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Vin,” my mother shot back.
For once Marie tried to avoid a fight, or so I thought. She started gushing with wedding advice, and a look of shock passed her face as she said, “Oh no! I have to get a mother-of-the-groom dress!” She barked out a laugh. “I’m too young for this!”
Denise closed her eyes, I shook my head, and my father looked like he wanted to crawl under the deck. Vinny got that look in his eyes that said, “Please don’t do this,” and Christie looked down at her hands.
My grandmother meant well, trying to smooth things over, when she said, “I’ve always prayed that I would live to see great-grandchildren, so don’t make me wait too long!”
“If we waited for Tony or Denise to have them, we’d all be dead,” my mother added.
We were all shocked when Sal addressed my mother. “What is wrong with you?”
“What did you say?” she answered indignantly.
“You heard me. What is wrong with you? Why do you treat your own children like that? I’ve watched you all day—Vinny you hug and kiss, and Tony and Denise you turn your face from, insult them every chance you get. How could you treat them that way?” He looked hurt and confused. If it were anyone but Sal I would have decked him.
“Sal, don’t worry about it,” I said. “Just her way of showing affection.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “Denise has been upset since yesterday. She knew this would happen.”
“Let me tell you something, mister.” My mother advanced on him. “Just because you’re sleeping with my daughter doesn’t give you the right to criticize her family.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not sleeping with your daughter.” Sal turned to Denise. “Do you want to leave?”
She hesitated then nodded. He held out his hand, and they walked off the deck toward the front of the house. Denise turned around. “You coming, Tony?”
“No, I’ll be leaving for the shore soon,” I called back.
I had originally planned to leave the following morning after the barbecue, but after things got out of hand I decided to leave that night after the fireworks show.
It cooled off a little after the sun went down. I was stretched out on a lounge chair watching the water when Nicole sat down next to me. “So, Tony, I hear you have a house down the shore for the summer.”
“No, a couple of my friends do,” I said, not looking at her. “Where?”
“Manasquan.”
She nodded. “How’s work?”
“Fine.”
“You want to walk over to Fort Wadsworth to watch the fireworks?” She tilted her head to the side and smiled. She was really pretty, light brown hair with green eyes, and used to getting her way.
“No.” I smiled. “I think I’ll stay here and watch them.”
She pursed her lips together and nodded. “I won’t ask you again, Tony,” she said as she walked away.
“Fine with me,” I mumbled.
I heard another voice at my side. “Hey.” This time it was Aunt Patty. Her white hair was pulled into a girlish ponytail, her skin tan. “How’s my favorite nephew?”
I leaned over and hugged her. “How’s life with Mom?”
“Being here upsets her. She’s usually not this bad.” She smiled sadly. “I think it’s still traumatic for her to see your father and Marie.”
I nodded.
“I feel sorry for you and Denise, the way she treats you,” she continued quietly, looking around to make sure no one heard her. “She really does love you both.”
I snorted.
“You remind her so much of your father, and she has a lot of guilt about Denise.” She surprised me when her eyes filled. “You used to have such a great family.”
“That was a long time ago. You’d think we’d all be over it by now.”
“Some people never get over it. What about you, are you okay? You’re drinking a lot.”
; “Aunt Patty, it’s a holiday, I’m having a couple of drinks. I’m fine.”
She put her head down and nodded. “Selling the house may not be a bad thing, Tony. It’s time for all of you to move on, especially your mom.”
“I guess,” I said sadly.
“If you ever need to talk, I’m always here.”
“I know, thanks,” I said.
As the time for the fireworks display got closer, the beach next to my house filled with people. They stood at the edge of the water, some sitting on the cement wall dividing my yard from the beach. The fireworks went up by the seaport in Manhattan, giving us a spectacular view. The show lasted close to an hour, and within minutes after it ended the beach crowd had dispersed.
I went upstairs and packed a bag, putting my gun in the bottom drawer. I’m not allowed to carry it in New Jersey, and I definitely didn’t want it with me when I was drinking. My father, Marie, and Frank Bruno and his wife were still talking out on the deck with Christie and Vinny when I left. I said good night and walked out to my truck.
Traffic was light on the Garden State Parkway as I headed down the shore. The house Mike rented was on the waterway. It stood three stories high, white with blue trim. Mike rented it with five other people—three nurses from St. Vincent’s hospital, a fireman, and Richie Patterson, who was a cop in the 120 precinct on Staten Island. Everyone was in their late twenties, early thirties, which is why the realtors rented it to them. The guys in their early twenties are known to destroy the rented beach houses, so the realtors prefer the older crowd. The houses on the block were pretty much the same, gravel front yards, boats in the back, the salty smell of the water permeating the air. Richie Patterson had a boat, a nice seventeen-foot Bow Rider that we all used.
I went to the house to drop off my truck. I knew everyone would be at the Osprey Hotel off Main Street. One of the nurses whose name I couldn’t remember was sitting on the couch with a guy. I said hello and went upstairs to Mike’s room. I put my bag in the closet and pulled out the top dresser drawer, leaving my shield and police ID underneath it. I didn’t know everyone in the house, and even if I did I wouldn’t chance losing my shield. I’d lose ten days vacation for it.
I walked the five blocks to the Osprey. I could hear the music long before I got there. There was a line of people outside the building, but I cut to the front and asked for Doug Wheeland, the manager of the place.
“Why do you want him?” a blond musclehead with a crew cut and sunburn asked as he folded his arms to beef up his biceps.
“He’s a friend of mine—tell him it’s Tony Cavalucci,” I bellowed over the noise.
Doug loved cops, and he knew me from all the years I’d been to the shore. He emerged with the bouncer a few minutes later.
“Tony! Come on, man, Mike and Richie are inside, let me buy you a drink!” He shook my hand and slapped me on the back in a half hug. He was tall and lean, with blond sun-streaked hair and wrinkles around his eyes from all his years on the beach.
The Osprey was rocking. We passed through the first room, which had a live band, and into the second room, which had the big bar and a DJ. Beyond the big bar was a room with a small dance floor that was empty.
It was now midnight, and Mike and Richie had been at it for a few hours. Mike was pressed up against a sunburned blond, laughing into her ear. Richie was talking to a couple of guys I’d never met before. Doug bought me a beer, and we talked about going tubing on Richie’s boat the following morning. Doug couldn’t stay long because he had to watch the bar, but he promised to be at the house by 11:00 in the morning. I spent the next two hours drinking with Richie. At 2:00, when the bar closed, Mike was nowhere to be found, so Richie and I walked home together and sat up until 4:30 playing cards with Rob the fireman and Lisa the nurse.
I woke at 10:00, showered, and wore blue shorts for the boat. I took a shirt but didn’t put it on. In the kitchen someone had made coffee, but I passed on the 7-Eleven muffins. I drank a cup of coffee and walked two blocks for a bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel. When I got back to the house Mike and Richie were out back on the boat, and Doug pulled up a couple of minutes later.
Lisa the nurse and her ditzy friend came out on the boat with us. We took them out to open water. We took it easy on them, only spilling them from the tube once or twice each. It’s a lot of fun. You attach a big inflated tube to the back of the boat as if you were waterskiing and whip around on the water with it. If you go fast enough, they bounce a few feet in the air when the tire hits the water. If you make a sharp turn the force of the turn pulls the tube out from under them. It’s hysterical. The guys can usually hold on, the women end up in the water.
By 3:00 everyone was sunburned and laughing, and we made plans to go to the Osprey for happy hour. From 4:00 until 6:00 they served half-price Long Island iced tea and Jell-O shots. We got to the Osprey at 4:15, and by 6:30 I was numb. We went out for a pizza, and it tasted terrible but it absorbed some of the alcohol in my stomach.
We didn’t go home after the pizza but back to the Osprey for more drinks. A friend of Richie’s was talking to me. She kept bumping into me, laughing at everything I said. She was very tan, with black curly hair and a white tank top. She thought tubing sounded fun and asked if she could come out on the boat with us. I felt kind of detached from the whole thing, not happy or sad. I didn’t feel anything. At one point I went outside—I was talking to a guy who worked as a schoolteacher during the year and a cop during the summer. It sounded great to me, part-time cop, part-time teacher. I must have been slurring, because he told me I might have had too much to drink and maybe I should go home. That was the last thing I remembered.
For the first time in my life I woke up and had no idea where I was. I had my shorts on but no shirt or shoes, and I was lying straight across a double bed. The house didn’t look familiar, and no one was home. A note on the bed next to me said, “We went down to the beach, meet us there.”
That wouldn’t work, since I had no idea who wrote the note. I felt a moment of panic. I tried to remember how I got there, but nothing came to me. The house was hot and quiet. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I smelled of sweat and booze. I saw my wallet and a pack of cigarettes on the dresser. My shirt and shoes were on the floor, and the alarm clock on the dresser said it was 11:14. I got dressed and went outside and walked to the corner. I found myself on Pine Avenue, about three blocks from where I was staying.
I walked back to Mike’s house which was empty and messy. I packed up my gear, retrieving my shield and ID from under the drawer. I found a Coke in the fridge and some ham and cheese. I ate the sandwich at the table, hoping it would settle my stomach. There was a bottle of Advil on the counter, and I took two, downing them with the rest of my soda. I was having a hard time functioning, and I hoped nobody would come in so I didn’t have to talk. I began to panic, and I gave in to the urge to run—I threw my bag in the truck and drove too fast toward the parkway, my heart pounding in sync with my head. I just had to get home.
It was so hot and muggy that the sweat was dripping down my face and back even with the air conditioner on high. I had at least an hour’s drive, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Different thoughts ran through my head. I wondered fleetingly what Joe Fiore would think of me if he knew I had blacked out. Depression settled in over me like a cloud. I had gotten deeper into something that was getting more and more difficult to climb out of.
How did I get to this? When did everything get so bad? I thought about how unhappy I was about everything and I didn’t know how to change it. I felt so lonely.
My house was empty when I got home. Dishes were in the sink and the deck still showed signs of the barbecue. I cleaned out the sink and turned on the dishwasher and went up to take a shower. I felt somewhat better just being home. The shower woke me up a little, and I went back downstairs to clean up. Sal’s picnic table was still there. I folded up the chairs and hosed down the deck. I scrubbed the grill with a wire brush and pu
t all the beer bottles out in the recycle pail. I tried to watch TV but couldn’t concentrate on anything, so I puttered around the quiet house, looking for something to catch my interest.
By 9:00 that night I was back up at Dave’s Tavern, drinking beer and playing darts. The bar was empty except for a few neighborhood diehards like myself. Dave was trying to talk me into coming to the Sunday night turtle races, so I told him I would be there. At 1:00 I called it a night and walked home alone. Neither Vinny nor Denise were home, and I woke up at 8:00 the next morning to an empty house.
The Sunday Staten Island Advance was on my front steps, and I thought about looking through the classified section for an apartment but quickly dismissed the idea. I wasn’t ready to deal with moving yet.
Since it was a holiday weekend, the neighborhood was quiet. The weather was still hot and humid, but we were supposed to get rain by Monday and a break in the humidity. I couldn’t think of a thing to do around the house. I did my laundry the day before when I woke up, and the house was still neat from when I’d cleaned up.
I drove up to Montey’s for peppers, eggs, and potatoes again. I told Montey about my house being sold, and he wanted to know if I’d be staying in the neighborhood. He looked sad about it. We’ve known each other a long time. My first job had been as a stock boy in his deli when I was fourteen. I’d worked there for two years. I loved my neighborhood, but without my house I didn’t know if I would stay there. I mentally dismissed most of the neighborhoods on the Island—the north shore was too commercial, and the west shore was the dump. That left me the east and south shores, because I wouldn’t go inland where there was no water. I needed to be near the water. I’d be lost without it.
I spent the rest of the afternoon on a lounge chair on the deck. I slept shirtless in the sun until a tanker blared its horn and woke me with a start. I jumped up, heart pounding, drenched with sweat. A second later I heard voices coming from the kitchen and went inside.