by Tiana Laveen
Giovanni: Cool. See u in a bit.
He put his phone away and leaned forward. Placing his hands on Nonna’s, he squeezed her fingers ever so gently. The jewels all along her digits felt smooth, some spiky and hard against his palms.
“Giovanni.” Her tone sounded serious. “Is this what you like? Is this what you’re into?”
“Is what, what I like?”
“The colored girls…”
He looked at her for a long while, mulling over his answer.
“Nonna, I just like women. Your grandson is crazy about chicks! I love variety, so I’m cool with tasting the rainbow.” She smiled at his words. “I’m a lady’s man. I appreciate the female form. If she’s my type, then I like ’er.”
He threw up his hands. “I have a type, yeah, but color doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’ve dated plenty of White chicks. I’ve dated a couple of Indian girls, and one Asian broad. I’ve had at least seven or eight Hispanic women. I’ve had my share of Black girls, too. It doesn’t matter to me.” He shrugged. “It never has and never will.”
“If you are a lady’s man, and I know that you are,” she said with a smirk, “give me an idea of what makes this one so special?”
“She makes me laugh. She’s quick witted and smart, goes toe to toe. She takes chances. She doesn’t give up on life, even when it’s got her down. She makes me feel good.”
His flesh heated as he wondered if Nonna got the double meaning of those words.
“I don’t have to explain myself to her or make excuses for who I am. There’s no recital required. She just wants me for me…the good and the bad.”
They looked at each other and smiled.
“She accepts you for who you are… and likes you just as well. That’s nice.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, she likes me just as well… ya know,” He gathered his thoughts, then continued, “I don’t have to show off in front of her. I went in like that, when she and I were first dating because I thought that’s what was expected, and well, it had worked for me in the past. But she didn’t like it. She just wanted me to be myself. At first I resisted, but then it was such a huge weight off my shoulders. Tryna be perfect, approved of and liked but acting like you couldn’t care less is so tiring. I hate that.”
His heart ached with these confessions. A realization dawned on him right then and there, one he’d never before taken the time out to examine.
“There’s no middle ground with me. I’m either believing I can do anything I set my mind to or I feel lower than low, insecure. The insecure part I never let anyone see. I can’t.”
“Your confidence is your machismo. You always come across like you know what you’re doing. It’s encouraging and inspiring for some. Sometimes playing pretend is not so bad, sweetheart.” The old woman gave him an affectionate smile.
“It’s hard bein’ me sometimes though, Nonna.” He blinked away tears. “I’ve got some pain. I used to stay up all hours of the night, killin’ myself so I could be better than the next guy. I would roll stuff around in my brain for hours, days, sometimes weeks! The same ol’ thing, over and over, worried about if so and so was okay with me, if I went too far… but then, I couldn’t stop myself anyway. The real me would always shine and blurt out how I truly felt eventually. The lies would catch up with me. I needed to pretend, but hated to have to dress up and be in the play… I resented having to perform, and I resented having to be myself. Crazy, huh? I am constantly fighting in my own head, Nonna. That’s no way to live, but I have to do it. I have to figure all these things out in my own way. It’s like having an evil twin, and a good twin, too. I feel like two different people half the time. It helps me see many angles of a problem. In business it comes in handy but with broads? Jesus! It’s a nightmare.”
“Giovanni, the only man you should be competing against is yourself.” Her smile was sad now as she reached over and caressed the side of his face.
“You’re right.”
“I know my grandson very well. Since you were a little boy, you were a showoff and that will never change.” He laughed at her words. “But you were also very kind… wanting to make me and your mother smile. You used to get the step stool, such a small boy, and shove it up to the kitchen sink. You’d stand there and try to wash the dishes for me. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you tried. I would offer to read you stories, but you’d say, ‘Nonna, I’ll read the story to you!’ You did want to be liked, appreciated. Who doesn’t?”
She shrugged.
“Giovanni, you must accept every part of yourself. The good and the bad, the angel and the demon, the bad twin and the good twin, before you expect anyone else too.”
He briefly closed his eyes, the truth of her words hitting too close to home. He squirmed in his own skin, fight or flight warring within him. These truths were too strong, too uncomfortable.
“And let me tell you something, your ability to land on your feet is telling. You are never stuck. You’re versatile, willing to adapt to any situation. That makes you strong, Giovanni. Not just because of those big muscles, but in your mind and heart, too.”
“‘I needed to hear that… You know what, Nonna? I think you’ll like my girlfriend if you just get to know her. Nessa lets me be goofy, but she also lets me be serious. I feel like… I feel like I’m on stage all the time, Nonna. Sometimes I can come across as confident and not giving a crap, but I care a whole lot, Nonna. I cared about what people thought of me back in the day, too, and that made it all the harder when I realized that I couldn’t fit in anybody’s box. I felt like I was so much smarter than many of the guys around me. I know that sounds bad, real bad I suppose, but it’s true. I felt dumbed down just by bein’ ’round ’em, hearing their nonsense. I had to ask myself…” He threw up his hands. “Gio, who in tha hell are you showin’ off for? These idiots?” He laughed dismally.
“And what about love?” Nonna’s blue eyes twinkled.
“Love had escaped me.”
“Maybe you escaped love…”
He swallowed and dropped his head.
“Yeah… maybe you’re right.” A few moments of quiet passed. In that time he felt the deep pain that he’d buried so far within himself, it would take a bulldozer to uncover it all. Secrets… lies… Giovanni realized that his mission had always been to protect his image, to never be seen as anything less than great. Maybe being truly great was being honest with himself, facing his frailties and embracing them. Once and for all…
“Let me tell you a story about your family. My husband, your grandfather who was from Sicily, and who passed away before you came into the world, had an uncle. His name was Beppe. Beppe came here before we did. He moved to Queens. Beppe was an intelligent man. From the photographs I saw, he was good looking, too.” Nonna smiled. “But, he got involved in some things that, well, he shouldn’t have. He was single and after a while, he got some money. A lot of money.”
“How’d he get the money?”
“You know how.”
“Nonna, no way!” He popped about in the seat, and the little dangly crystals played an airy tune. “Dad said none of our family was in the mob, that it was just silly wishful thinking on my part!” He cackled, sure Nonna was pulling his leg, but the old woman’s face didn’t budge. “You’re serious?!” he said, stunned. The old woman nodded. “Wow! So Uncle Beppe was mafia… all right!” He clapped his hands and hummed the theme to the Sopranos in his head.
“Yes. Well, with him being good looking, having a nice car, things like that, it caught the eye of many women… but Beppe Mancuso didn’t want those women. He had a weakness. Black ladies.”
“Oh, this is getting’ good.” Gio crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying the tale.
“As you already mentioned, that was not something that we, er, partook in… at least not in public.” She shrugged. “Beppe did not try to hide what he was doing. He practically dared someone to say a word to him about it. He was left alone until he met a girl and wanted more fr
om her than just a little, well, shall I say midnight companionship. He wanted to parade her around town, be together, spend time in the open with her. They could not get married—it was illegal, Giovanni—but he wanted to live like they were so.”
“Well? What happened?”
“He did.” Nonna slid off her bed, trying to get to her feet. Giovanni stood and carefully took her arm as she wobbled about, trying to catch her balance.
“So… that’s it?”
“Is there more that needs to be said?” She smiled. “If you were listening, Giovanni, then I think I’ve said more than enough. Keep your mitts off your cousins, show me this girl of yours, and let’s rejoin the party. I’m starving.”
He looked at the woman before him—the old lady who had changed his diapers, kept him close in her bed while he napped, bathed him and his brother, and took them to the park.
She hasn’t answered even one of my questions, then she tells me a story with no fucking ending! Nonna is getting senile…
…And then it clicked.
Nonna wasn’t losing her mind at all. She was telling him exactly what he’d told her… that he’d have to live his life how he saw fit. He gasped as he thought about the secrets she’d woven in between the lines of that story of his great uncle. The advice she was giving to him hit him like a ton of bricks.
This was living. Death was denying the truth, denying love…
Today was Nonna’s birthday. They were all gathered in her honor, to celebrate life, the queen, the matriarch of the family. This was a celebration of the existence of a phenomenal woman who’d fallen in love with a man who had nothing—his grandfather who he’d never met. They came from immigrants, a long line of people looking for a better opportunity. His ancestors were hard workers, passionate, loud, loving and optimistic. At that moment, he realized another strange truth.
He and Nonna were more alike than he’d ever realized. He’d never heard her call anyone a nigger, a moolie, an eggplant, a spook, nothing. In fact, Nonna seemed more than anything interested in spending time with her family, sporting her jewels, and watching old black and white movies with all of her favorite movie stars that had passed on. She had been on him a while back about settling down and giving her great grandchildren, as well as his mother—because to Nonna, nothing mattered more in the world than family and love. They were synonymous, depending and contingent upon one another.
Looping his arm tighter around hers, he escorted her out of her bedroom and down the steps. The crowd jumped about upon her second arrival, kissing and hugging her. Backing away from the crowd, he found his baby, Vanessa, and held her in his arms so tight. She smelled like food, and her smile brightened his cloudy day. Ma came and pulled them apart, took him in her arms, and gave him a hearty hug.
“You’ve got a real nice girl here, figlio mio,” she whispered in his ear. “Make sure you do her right…”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Making Deals and Taxi Wheels
Vanessa crossed her legs, still reeling and feeling silly from their time at the Museum of Sex an hour previously. She’d been underwhelmed but enjoyed the boob bounce house. Now, they sat at their table at the Armani Restaurant in Brooklyn, about to enjoy dinner.
“You still didn’t tell me about how your meeting with Sephora and Pepper Incorporated went.” Giovanni playfully tossed a straw wrapper at her.
“Both went well.” She retrieved the little piece of balled up paper and tossed it back at him. He ducked just in time. “Pepper’s panel was helpful, but they agreed with you. They thought the packaging was pretty nice. If I sent the manufacturing overseas it would save me about thirty-five percent though, so I’ll need to think about that going forward. Sephora liked the peppermint scented balm and the matching flavored lipstick in particular. I did mention that the men’s lip product line was coming, too.”
The man sucked on the straw in his drink.
“Yeah? What’d they say about that.”
She hated this part. She knew the bastard would gloat…
“They said that was a fantastic idea.”
“I friggin’ told ya!” He tossed his arms up in a smug gesture, as if he were the greatest of all time. “I want a cut of this since it was my idea.” He was laughing, but for all she knew he may have been serious. “Now, the lipstick they liked, are you talking about the one with the red and white stripes?”
Gio peered out the window, checking out the scenery.
“Yeah. My boss put in a good word for me, too.”
“Good. Just keep doing like I told you, aiight? Picture your end goal, see it in your mind. Never lose track of that.” She nodded in agreement.
“So.” She flipped through her menu. “How’s the food here? I’ve never been here before. It’s pretty at least.” She looked about the place at the modern, sleek design of the Italian restaurant.
“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “I’m a bit biased. Nobody can cook better than my Nonna, but this place will do in a pinch. Jesus, I’m glad we used Groupon for the Museum of Sex! How fuckin’ lame was that?”
“I know, right?” She chuckled. “It was just a bunch of old pictures of naked women. I had been there a long time ago and it was cool… or maybe it was just because back then we had less access to online porn and I was easier to please.”
“Could be.” He shrugged. “Well, your curiosity is now taken care of. You’ve been badgering me to go.”
“I have not been badgering your ass. I asked you one time!” She held up her finger and grinned. “You’re always exaggerating, acting like the whole world wants to ride the Gio train!”
“They do! Hop abooooard! Choo! Choo! Everyone wants uh piece of this action!” He gesticulated like a train conductor. “Hold up, babe… somebody’s calling me.” He grabbed his cellphone. “Hey, Fergie.”
Fergie? The singer, Fergie? She kept a firm grip on her menu but dipped her ears in his conversation like a warm spoon diving deep in a bowl of chocolate ice-cream.
“Nah, your timing is fine. Just sat down to have an early dinner with my girlfriend. We haven’t ordered yet. What can I do for you? … Yeah… When?… Booked. I can do next week on Thursday. I’ll text you the time… Oh, really?” He grinned real hard, showing all of his teeth. “Did she?! Yeah, that’s nice. The last slice is yours, right?”
He cackled, really showing out. Vanessa laughed lightly and shook her head at the man.
“Yeah! Ab-noxious! A six pack of fuckery!” Now the man’s face had turned all red as the vein on the side of his neck jetted out as if it had a mind of its own. “What a piece of work! Tell him fries don’t go with that shake and tuh give you twenty!” His laughter rang through the space.
This man is ridiculous…
“Oh! Before ya go, since I’m sitting here thinking about it actually, I wanted to know if you could do me a little favor? Okay, cool… how many people are scheduled to be in the audience for The Four: Battle of Stardom? Okay, that sounds good. Look, my girlfriend was in talks with some big wigs over at Sephora for her cosmetics line… Yeah, yeah, she’s got some good stuff. So, what I wanted to do was ya tell me how many people are in your audience, and those little gift bags you all give out, like maybe we can stuff a gloss in there with one of her business cards. Would that be all right?…
“Oh, you don’t do gift bags there… that’s just like for awards ceremonies and stuff? Okay… yeah, yeah… Oh yeah! That’ll be fine. Awesome!… Uh huh… dope! I sure appreciate that, Fergie… Yeah, she can send some for your event. That would be even better. She’s a professional makeup artist, been doing this for over eight years and she’s amazing!”
Her cheeks warmed at his kind words about her. He was talking about her like he spoke of himself… with greatness.
“She took the courses and everything, you know, to find out about skin care and the science behind it all. She’s got a cosmetology license, too but really wanted to go a different direction… more behind the scenes. She’s got something special. Sh
e did, uh, hell, what’s that lady’s name?” He snapped his fingers.
“Thandie Newton!” she mouthed.
“Yeah, she did Thandie Newton’s makeup a couple of times, and some Love and Hip-Hop people, and those big-headed, little-bodied, alien lookin’ Olsen twins… stuff like that…”
Why is he talking shit about people to this woman? Gio, you are a mess…
“Oh, you know what? This is silly. She’s right here and can speak for herself. Let me just give ’er the phone.”
Vanessa’s mouth dropped in shock as he reached out to give her his cellphone. She’d been enjoying the banter, getting excited about the discussion until he turned the tables and put the spotlight on her with no warning whatsoever. Kind of the same way he’d slipped his dick in her ass the other night and tried to pretend it was an accident…
After mouthing a few choice words to the man, she snatched the phone from his grasp and put on the most professional, pleasant voice she could muster.
“Uh, hi, Fergie. My name is Vanessa King. I’m Giovanni’s girlfriend. Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me about my makeup line, ‘Nile Cosmetics’…”
…One month later
“Yes! I’m the lightweight champion of the world!” she cried, loud enough to wake the dead.
She soon felt the warm cocoon of his big hand covering her mouth as they stood outside of the 124 Old Rabbit Club on Macdougal Street. Brandishing a beautiful smile, he kissed her cheek. Her head buzzed. She felt airy and happy, giggling and silly all over.
“Shhh! Let me get your drunk ass home, Vanessa. Jesus Christ!” He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her down the sidewalk. “I had no idea you were such a lightweight.”
He pulled out his phone to call an Uber. They’d been bar crawling and she’d pretended she had experience in such things—he’d challenged her, after all. But, he soon found out the truth. After three beers or glasses of wine, she was usually silly as hell, tipsy like the leaning tower of Pisa.