Boystown Season Three

by Jake Biondi

  Eventually, the door to the room opened and two nuns -- one young and one old -- entered the room, the younger one carefully guiding the elderly one. Marco stood from his seat and approached the women. Both he and the younger nun helped the older woman onto a nearby sofa.

  “Grazie,” the younger nun said. Once the elder nun was seated comfortably, the younger one nodded in Marco’s direction and quietly left the room.

  The older nun turned to Marco and, with a sparkle in her eyes, reached out and put her hand on Marco’s cheek. “Marco,” she said with a wide smile that wrinkled her face. “It’s good to see you.”

  Marco sat down next to the woman on the couch. “Aunt Connie, it’s good to see you, too.”

  “My eyes are so bad and it’s been so long, I can barely tell it’s you.”

  “It’s me,” Marco said. “Marco.”

  “I never could tell Gino or you apart, even when I was younger.” Concetta paused a moment and took a labored breath. “Last time I saw you both, you were young children.”

  “It’s been a long time.”

  “I was so surprised when they came to get me. I don’t often have visitors, from America or anywhere. How’s your father?”

  “He’s good. He sends his love, of course. And Gino, too.”

  “Ah, Gino,” Concetta said quietly. “You were both such good boys. How your mother loved you both.”

  “Actually, Aunt Connie,” Marco said, “I am here because of mother. I need to ask you some questions about her.”

  “What questions?”

  “About the time she spent here with you. All those months.”

  Concetta paused before responding. “Very sad times those were. Cancer is a terrible thing.”

  “I know,” Marco said. “But you offered her great comfort.”

  “We were sisters. I did what I could.”

  “Aunt Connie, I’m sure she told you about her affair. She trusted you with the most delicate information.”

  Concetta nodded. “We trusted each other. Very much.”

  “So when she was here did she tell you anything about the affair?”

  “It was something she greatly regretted. We prayed together many times in this very room. She wanted forgiveness from your father and from our Heavenly Father as well.”

  “Father forgave her,” Marco explained. “And he’s not a forgiving man. But he loved her very, very much.”

  “And she loved him, too, Marco,” she said. “I’m sure he knew that.”

  “Was there…was there any possibility that she may have been pregnant during her time here with you?”

  Concetta’s eyes grew large behind her thick glasses. “Pregnant? Your mother was here in Rome for special cancer treatments. There was no pregnancy.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Marco,” Concetta said, putting her frail hand on top of Marco’s, “my sight and my hearing may be all but gone, but my memory is not. The only pregnancy I know of is when she delivered you and Gino. That’s all.” Concetta paused. “I’m getting tired.”

  “Of course,” Marco said. “We can get you back to your room.”

  “How long are you here in Rome?”

  “I came to see you,” Marco said. “But I’ll check in at our Rome office while I’m here. Then I’m heading back home.”

  “It’s good to see you,” she replied. “If you have time, come back and eat with me. I want to know how the rest of the family is doing.”

  Marco smiled. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave for California. Come on, I’ll help you back to your room.”

  Marco carefully helped Concetta from her chair and aided her as they slowly made their way out of the room.

  While it was quite warm in Rome, the temperature in Chicago was dropping as winter engulfed the city once again. Despite the cold outside, the inside of Rebound was hot and lively, packed with mostly men dancing, socializing, and partying. The male strippers dancing on blocks throughout the club entertained the patrons as did the bartenders who were rushing around trying to keep up with the crowd’s drink orders.

  Already a bit tipsy, Jesse, Cole, and David were at the main bar ordering shots from their bartender. As he placed four shots on the counter, David handed him some money. The bartender put the money to the side momentarily and picked up one of the four shots. Jesse, Cole, and David each picked up a shot as well.

  “To us,” David said and the four men touched their glasses together before chugging their shots. Then they put their empty glasses on the bar and the bartender took them away.

  “This was a great idea,” Jesse said to David. “We all needed a carefree night out.”

  “Damn right,” Cole said.

  “I thought it would be fun,” David said, picking up his martini.

  As they continued to drink and chat, one of the strippers dancing on the bar made his way over to them. He was the red-haired boy who had broken into Emmett’s restaurant and had propositioned Michael on the street. Once in front of the guys, he began dancing, occasionally thrusting his crotch toward their faces.

  “I think he likes you,” David said to Cole, laughing.

  “Right,” Cole said. “Just what I need in my life now.” Cole pulled out his cell phone.

  “Oh, no,” David said. “Drunk texting.”

  Jesse added, “Cole, don’t.” But Cole sent a text to Derek anyway.

  “He hasn’t replied in two weeks,” Jesse said. “What makes you think he’s going to reply tonight?”

  “You just said it yourself,” Cole replied. “We’re drunk so I’m not thinking at all.”

  The stripper knelt down on the bar. “Hey, boys.”

  “Hey,” David said, smiling back at the boy.

  “Having fun tonight?”

  “We are,” David replied. Jesse put a dollar into David’s hand and David worked it into the stripper’s underwear. “There you go.”

  “Thanks,” the stripper said, turning his face toward Cole. “You look familiar.”

  “I do?” Cole asked.

  “That’s funny,” Jesse said. “Most people usually recognize him from the back.”

  “Are you all single?” the red head asked.

  “We are tonight,” Jesse replied.

  “You’re all hot,” the stripper added

  Cole laughed. “Thanks. That deserves a tip.” Cole put a few bucks into the stripper’s underwear as he put his arms over Cole’s shoulders.

  The stripper smiled. “Thanks, baby. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Cole.”

  “I’m Jensen,” the stripper said.

  “And this is David and Jesse,” Cole continued.

  “Nice to meet all of you boys.”

  David put his arm around Cole’s shoulders, displacing Jensen’s arms. “Same.”

  “Well, I’ll check back with you boys in a bit. Have fun.” Jensen walked back to the other end of the bar and continued to flirt with other patrons.

  “What a piece of work,” Jesse said. “Too funny.”

  “He’s just trying to make a living,” David said, his arm still wrapped around Cole.

  “I guess,” Jesse said as he noticed Logan across the room at the other end of the bar. “Logan.”

  “What?” Cole asked.

  “Logan. He’s over there sitting alone at the end of the bar. He looks pretty hammered.”

  “Ugh,” David said.

  “Maybe I should check on him?” Jesse leaned over the counter and asked the bartender to come over. “How long has Logan been there?”

  The bartender looked down the bar toward Logan. “He’s not in my service area. But he’s been here a while. Looks sort of out of it to me.”

  “Me, too,” Jesse said. “I’m going to check on him.” Jesse walked away in Logan’s direction.

  “You two doing okay?” the bartender asked Cole and David.

  “Let’s have another round,” David said.

  “Sounds good,” he replied, turning ar
ound to grab a vodka bottle.

  “You okay?” David asked Cole.

  “I’m great,” Cole said, holding up his drink and chugging it.

  “Good,” David said, smiling. Then he leaned in and kissed Cole. Cole pulled away momentarily. Then he stepped closer to David and kissed him back. The kiss grew in intensity and they wrapped their arms around each other.

  When the long kiss was over, David put his forehead against Cole’s. “I told you I’m not giving up on us.”

  “I’m not sure I want you to,” Cole said, leaning forward and kissing David again.

  While David and Cole kissed, Jesse approached Logan, who was sitting on a stool at the bar and was clearly intoxicated.

  “Hey, handsome,” Jesse said, putting his hand on Logan’s back. “You okay?

  Logan turned his head toward Jesse and squinted his drunk eyes to see who was touching him. “I’m fine,” Logan said, slurring his words.

  “Maybe I should help you get home?”

  “You? Help me?” Logan sat up more erectly. “I’m fine.”

  “Naw,” Jesse said. “You’ve been over-served.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jesse waved at the bartender. “What does he owe you?”

  “He’s all set,” the bartender replied. “Just get him home safely.”

  “Thanks,” Jesse said. “I will.” Jesse wrapped his arm around Logan to help him up from the bar stool. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Logan reluctantly and unsteadily began to stand up. Jesse held him tightly and started walking him toward the door.

  Upon arriving at Logan’s home, Jesse carefully helped him into the bedroom. Sitting him on the edge of the bed, Jesse pulled Logan’s shirt off of him and then removed his shoes. As Jesse helped Logan onto his side and pulled the bed covers up over him, Logan mumbled a bit, shifted his position in the bed, and fell asleep.

  Jesse took a few steps back and leaned against the wall opposite the bed. Watching Logan sleep, Jesse reflected back on New Year’s Eve and all that had happened since. His eyes flooded with tears as he watched Logan’s chest rise and fall beneath the sheets.

  “I love you, Logan,” Jesse whispered softly. “And I’m going to make things right again for us. Please just give me the chance.”

  Jesse eventually turned off the light and left Logan’s bedroom as Keith rushed into his. His conversation with Rachel roaring through his mind, Keith tore open his wardrobe and reached deep inside. His fingers grasped a large box and pulled it out into the room.

  Turning around and placing the box on his bed, Keith recalled Rachel’s words: “Let me refresh your memory. The accident. All those years ago. The one you never did time for.” He lifted the lid from the box and carefully removed the note that she had pressed into his hand at the New Year’s Eve party: “I know what you did all those years ago.”

  Then Keith took newspaper clippings from the box and placed them all over the bed. When finished, he scanned the articles’ headlines. “Hit and run victim D. O. A.” “Hit and run driver still at large.” “Beloved father killed in hit and run.” “P. D. mourns loss of one of their own.”

  At the same time in Rome, Concetta slowly opened the wardrobe in her bedroom. Her frail hand inserted a key into the keyhole of one of the drawers inside the wardrobe. Unlocking the drawer, Concetta pulled it open and gazed inside at its contents.

  She moved some items to one side to uncover a leather-bound diary. Struggling to wrap her arthritic hands around it, Concetta eventually lifted the book from the drawer and carried it over to her rocking chair. She sat down, holding the diary in her lap. Running her fingers over the brass lock on the diary, she looked up at the crucifix on the wall of her room.

  “Maybe it’s time,” Concetta quietly said to herself, her eyes focused on the wall. “Maybe it’s time to reveal the truth.” She looked down at the book in her lap and then back at the cross on the wall. All secrets have an expiration date.

  Episode #25

  Chicago snowstorms bring out the best and worst in people. An early February snowstorm replaced the unusual January thaw, putting Chicago back into winter’s tight grip. Chicagoans were used to these kinds of changes in the weather and tried to go about their business un-phased by the quickly-accumulating snow. But this storm showed no signs of letting up, perhaps heading for the record books.

  Some neighbors helped to shovel each other’s driveways or dig out each other’s cars from beneath the heavy snow. Others were more territorial, “reserving” their shoveled street parking spaces with folding chairs and other items. Some checked in on neighbors and friends who needed a helping hand while others “bunkered down” in their homes tending to themselves and waiting for the storm to pass.

  As the snow and wind fell outside of their new restaurant location, Max Taylor and Emmett Mancini were reviewing plans and renovations with Ben Donovan. Standing over the blueprints that were draped over a table, the men were discussing several of the proposed renovations. Ben snapped photos of all the plans with his cell phone.

  “They did a great job with the booths,” Max said. “I just think the light fixtures need to be centered over the tables.”

  “I agree,” Emmett added. “They seem a bit chaotic. If we’re going for a classic Golden Age of Hollywood look, the lines need to be cleaner.”

  “I’ll talk to the electrician in the morning,” Ben said.

  “The city inspector is supposed to come by Friday,” Emmett said. “It would be nice to have the electric work done by then.”

  “And I’m supposed to meet with Logan,” Max said. “He wants to talk about doing a charity event here.”

  “Are we going to be ready for that?” Ben asked. “When is he thinking?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Max replied. “If it’s soon, I was thinking we could hire a caterer to use our kitchen here. It might be a nice way to ‘preview’ our space and cause some neighborhood buzz.”

  “Well, let’s see what he has in mind and then we can decide what we can pull together, if anything,” Emmett said.

  “Can we take a look at the club lighting again?” Ben asked. “The more the electrician can work on at once, the better.”

  “Sure,” Max said. The three men walked over to the large plastic tarp that divided the restaurant area from the club area. Max pulled the tarp back, allowing the other two to pass under it. Then he followed them into the club space.

  As the three men disappeared behind the tarp, Jensen Stone, the red-headed stripper from Rebound, quietly emerged from the kitchen area. He walked over to the table where the men were previously situated and found Emmett’s keys resting on the table. He grabbed them, shoved them into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, and then headed out of the restaurant through the alley exit.

  Max, Ben, and Emmett eventually returned to the restaurant space and once again hovered over the renovation drawings on the table. Max pointed to one part of the drawing.

  “See? This is what I was talking about,” he explained. “I think the stage needs to come out further in this direction. It’ll improve the interaction between patrons and performers.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Ben said. “We can make that happen. Better to get your ideas out now while they are less costly to implement. Once things are built, changing them will blow your budget.”

  Emmett began patting down his pockets and then lifting the corners of the plans. “Have either of you seen my keys?”

  “Your keys?”

  “I thought I left them here on the table.”

  “Are you sure you had them with you at all?” Max asked.

  “Duh,” Emmett replied. “Remember who unlocked the place when we all got here?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Max said. “Well, don’t stress out. They have to be around here somewhere.” Just then, Max’s phone began to vibrate deep within his pocket. He pulled it out to see who was calling and said to Ben, “Hey, it’s your wife.”

  Ben looked up from
the drawings. “Oh?”

  “You want to take it?” Max asked, holding his phone out to Ben.

  “Sure,” Ben replied, taking the phone and slowly walking away from the other two. “Hey, baby. It’s me.”

  “Ben?” Jacqueline asked.

  “That’s right,” her husband replied. “Max just handed the call to me. Disappointed?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacqueline said. “I just need to tell Max something.”

  “What, exactly?” Ben asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Max and Emmett were otherwise occupied.

  “It’s none of your business,” she replied.

  “Everything you do is my business, baby,” Ben said. “I’m your husband.” There was a moment of silence and then Ben continued, “Just don’t do anything stupid. Remember what we talked about.”

  “You don’t need to worry about my memory,” Jacqueline said before quickly ending the call. Ben returned to the others and handed Max his phone.

  “Everything okay?” Max asked.

  “Perfect,” Ben said with a smile. “Maybe we should wrap up for now. It’s getting pretty ugly outside.”

  “Agreed,” Max said. “Why don’t you go on? We’ll close up here.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said, pulling on his heavy overcoat. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

  “Thanks,” Emmett said, still looking around the area for his keys.

  Max escorted Ben out of the front door and then locked it behind him. “It’s pretty bad out there.”

  “Luckily, we just have to walk upstairs to get home,” Emmett said. “Pretty nice, don’t you think?”

  Max smiled. “A home that I share with you is better than ‘pretty nice.’ It’s perfect.” Max kissed Emmett and then noticed his keys lying on the floor near the entrance to the kitchen area. “Hey, look.” Max walked over and picked the keys up off the floor.