Here and Gone

by Kelly Wood

  “You would have said ‘no,’ silly.” Passion was cocking her head again. I wanted to strangle her. Of course I would’ve said ‘no’ to this madness. These people are crazy.

  My mom shook a rolling pin at my face. “Don’t go thinking we are all crazy. You’re just as bad. It’s a long line of crazy you come from. Just give in.” Now that her speech was over, she went back to rolling out more dough for cookies. I thought she was making sugar cookies this time. I snatched a piece of the dough and popped it in my mouth. Yep, sugar cookies.

  I gave up. I slouched in my seat and started to pick at a cookie still warm from the oven. In all of the racket, I didn’t notice Gray’s entrance until he was practically on top of me.

  “It’s all set,” he said as he leaned down to kiss my cheek. Dread welled in my body. Every cell inside of me told me to run for the hills. Whatever Gray had ‘all set’ was not going to involve me if I could help it.

  Passion clapped her hands and jumped up and down a few times before turning her full force on me.

  “Stay where you are!” She pushed down on my shoulders anticipating my need for escape, as she ran past me. A moment later the loud music was abruptly cut off. The silence was deafening. I could hear Passion herding everyone out and letting them know the party was over. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. I had never been one for loud music. It hurt my ears, but apparently not Grams’s. She came around the corner with her own yard of margarita. A hot pink boa was around her neck. She used her hand as a fan to cool the sweat on her face. Knowing her, she had been in the center of the dance party.

  “Whew, what a good time. Dancing keeps you young.”

  “And thin!” Passion said, giving Grams a bump with her hip.

  “I thought it was whiskey,” I said. At least, that’s what Grams repeatedly told us throughout the years.

  “Whiskey goes with dancing... and bacon.” Grams stood next to my mom, picking at the freshly baked cookies.

  “Of course, my bad.” I injected a pound of sarcasm into the comment, but I didn’t think she caught it. Passion swatted at the back of my head before speaking.

  “Ladies, we have a lot to do. First thing on the agenda is dresses. We each need something new and beautiful for tonight. Second, hair and make-up. I called in a favor from the salon downstairs. The manager is sending two stylists to open for us only today! Here’s the game plan. We all go down to the mezzanine and shop. After you have found an outfit, you’ll get a quick shower before heading down for hair and make-up.” Passion clapped her hands in excitement. She grabbed my hand, trying to lead me away. I jerked free.

  “Wait. Why am I doing all this?” I asked.

  “For your wedding!” Passion looked exasperated as she answered me. I looked to Gray for help. He leaned against the door jamb.

  “You said we’d be married as soon as your family was able to get here... They’re here.” Gray raised his shoulders into a shrug.

  I looked around the room, taking in all of them one at a time. These were my people. It was the one concession to us getting married that I asked for. Truth be told, I found myself warming to the idea. It would all happen so quickly, I wouldn’t have any time to get nervous. And, I wouldn’t have to actually plan anything since Passion seemed to have everything under control. Of course, I’d probably be married by Elvis, and surrounded by showgirls, but who cared? It was the marriage that mattered, not the wedding. I nodded my assent. Passion pulled me off the stool, only pausing long enough for Gray to kiss me quickly.

  “I’ll catch up. I just need to get this last batch baked!” my mom yelled.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Passion snuck us into the theater through a secret entrance to show us the stage she’d be dancing on. Mom, Grams and I gave her a standing ovation while she twirled and leaped just for us. It was a fun sneak peek before the shopping got under way. I spent way too much money on three different dresses and two pairs of shoes. It was unanimous that I would get married in a soft ivory, knee-length dress. It was sleeveless with a lace overlay. I loved it. Classic. Simple. Not too fancy. It was actually the first dress we came across.

  Grams got a fire-engine red silk that would look great on someone half her age. She somehow managed to pull it off. Mom chose a simple gray sheath and Passion bought a two-piece ensemble that used almost as much material as my favorite bathing suit. Mom and I tried to steer her in another direction, but she listened to Grams. I guessed I should just be happy that Grams didn’t want to dress as Passion’s twin.

  Passion lightly tapped the back door to the salon. Passion had led us down an employees-only hallway to the salon since the front was still blocked for opening tomorrow. I took in my surroundings. The walls were an institutional gray. Very drab and a stark contrast to the public areas. A maze of hallways broke off in every direction. I looked for signs pointing to different areas, but there weren’t any. I stuck close to Passion so I wouldn’t get lost.

  Passion sensed my hesitation and assured me that Tabitha was the best. I had no choice but to trust her since we were either going to the back entrance or to the lab of a mad scientist.

  A tall woman with a smart, black bob opened the door for us. Her hair matched her ensemble, all black. Her ivory skin glowed against the suit and her hair color. The bob was cut in such a severe line I feared it would cut her neck when she turned her head. Passion introduced her as Tabitha as they led the way to the chairs. Tabitha had me seated and a cape thrown over me quickly. She unraveled my braid, running her fingers through my locks. I closed my eyes and purred in satisfaction.

  “Darling, you have beautiful hair!”

  “Thank you.”

  “How much time do we have?” Tabitha asked. I locked eyes with Passion in the mirror prompting her to answer since I lost all control over my day.

  “What were you thinking, Tabby?” Passion asked.

  “Well, the ends need cleaning up a little. But, I was thinking some caramel highlights and a few long layers.”

  “I love it. Do it,” Passion said. I raised my hand to protest. Tabitha and Passion both look startled that I wanted a vote.

  “Wait. I’m not opposed... but... I don’t have time for upkeep. When the highlights grow out...” I let the sentence drop, hoping my point would come across.

  “No worries. I’ll do what’s called a shadow root. The highlights will start a few inches down and be very fine. More of a natural, sun-kissed look than a processed one.” I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about, but I agreed. I’d never been one to get too fussy about hair. It grew back, after all. The most effort I’d put in over the last few years was a regular cut and sometimes a quick henna coloring to brighten it up while Gray and I traveled.

  “Let me go mix up some color and we’ll get started.” Tabitha patted my shoulder and briskly walked away.

  “What are you getting done?” I asked Passion.

  “Oh, not a thing. I do my own hair and makeup.” Passion twirled in the stylist chair next to me.

  “Why can’t I do my own?” I asked.

  “Because you are supposed to look beautiful on your wedding day.” Passion laid her head back and continued to twirl the chair around. Stylist chairs never lost their fun even after you’d grown. “You’d braid yours or just curl it. You need to be pampered today.”

  Mom and Grams were shown to the front of the shop to choose nail colors with the other stylist. Mom’s voice traveled when she told Grams to put back the “hussy red.” Tabitha returned with a handful of foil pieces and a bowl of goo with a brush sticking out. Her return spared me from the urge to separate Mom and Grams.

  Tabitha worked quickly. I glanced over to the nail station. The other stylist was working on her hands while Grams soaked her feet. I let myself relax since they were both stationary. Tabitha kept up a stream of chatter to Passion and me, but I tuned it out and enjoyed the moment. I was getting married! Eek!

  “Would you mind moving over here?” Tabitha touched my should
er to get my attention. I moved to the seat Passion vacated so Mom could take my place. I picked up a magazine to rifle through while I waited. A glance in the mirror showed dozens upon dozens of foil squares sticking out of my head.

  “What about you? What are you thinking? Up? Down?” Tabitha ran her fingers through my mom’s hair. She massaged her scalp with her long artificial nails. I grew green with envy.

  “Simple. I’m a simple gal.” My mom folded her hands in her lap, having given all the direction she intended. Tabitha once again looked to Passion.

  “Flat iron. Sleek down her bob, like yours, then spray the heck out it,” Passion said.

  I laughed. Passion knew Mom well. Anything fussy would just get brushed out when we got back upstairs. Grams’s laughter bubbled out from the front. I looked over to see the other stylist scrubbing Grams’s feet with a pumice stone. Irritation flashed across her face at Grams’s ticklishness, but she masked it quickly. I grinned. I also laughed uncontrollably during pedicures.

  I eased a finger between the foils to scratch my scalp. The chemicals were creating a small burning feeling, but I ignored it. Beauty is pain. I tuned back into the conversation. Passion was regaling Tabitha with our adventures this morning in the gym.

  “And that’s another reason why to stay out of the gym,” Tabitha said, waving a comb in her hand to emphasize the words. She went back to combing mom’s hair with one hand while using the flat iron on it with the other.

  “Not everyone comes by their slim body as naturally as you,” Passion replied. I crossed my eyes at my mom who was mocking Passion’s comment by mimicking a beauty queen. Mom pretended to flip her hair over her shoulder. Mom stifled a laugh.

  “First the jumper, then the rat, now the pool. What’s next? This place is cursed.”

  “What rat?” I asked. The conversation finally got interesting. Tabitha stopped ironing my mom’s hair straight to give me her full attention.

  “A guest called down to the front desk yesterday saying he found a rat in his room. He trapped it under one of his wife’s purses. From what I heard, she was not happy with the rat or her husband.” All of us chuckled. Tabitha picked up the dance again between the comb and her flat iron as she finished her story. “Mike, over in maintenance, told Bob in security that he thinks it was left in the room on purpose. Because, I guess, it’s not common to only have one rat. He thinks it was a plant. And then Shirley, you know the one, in housekeeping? Threw a fit and refused to go in any more rooms until they were checked. Anyway, poor Marsha. She’s our marketing and PR lady. She’s been running around like crazy trying to keep this out of the news.”

  Passion locked eyes with me and winked. In that instant, I realized why she had requested Tabitha. Underneath all her sheen and primness lurked the heart of a true gossip. The longer she talked, the more her voice slipped into its natural country dialect. I’d bet money she was once the prettiest girl in the trailer park. She made her escape and worked hard to exude anything other than the country bumpkin she was.

  “So, they didn’t find any more rats?” I asked.

  “No, but what’s gonna happen next?” Tabitha asked.

  “Who do you think is behind it? A disgruntled employee?” I asked.

  Tabitha and Passion looked at me aghast. “Absolutely not. Everyone wants to work for Frank. He’s generous and kind. No way it’s an employee.” Tabitha turned her attention to Passion, cutting off my questions. “Hey, did you hear about...”

  I tuned back out. I set my magazine on my lap and used both my hands to mash down the foils on my head. I hoped it didn’t ruin any of the work, but the slight itching was turning to a full-on burning sensation. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feelings.

  I glanced back at Grams to see how she was faring. Her legs were covered in a green, gritty goo. The stylist massaged Grams’s calves with practiced motions. Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned back to the mirror, trying to use it to see behind me. It took a minute for eyes to adjust and refocus. The movement wasn’t behind me, it was on me. I watched in horror as wisps of smoke snaked up from the foils on my head. They curled and danced like the smoke on a recently blown-out match.

  “Um, Tabitha? I don’t think this is normal.” I pointed to my head. Her face mirrored mine with a look of horror. The trashy girl in her came out completely as a slew of curse words flew from her mouth.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Franky August 1988

  “Where’s my ungrateful son this time?” Antonio Bianchi asked Franky.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Bull. You two have always been attached at the hip.”

  Franky didn’t know where Guy was this time, but he’d hedge a guess it was with Gracie. That’s who he’s attached to these days, Franky thought. Franky didn’t say anything to Antonio, though. No point. The old man knew exactly where he was. He may have sounded mean and gruff about it, but underneath he was happy. If the relationship worked out, then it would only strengthen the bond between the two families. Although, Antonio was upset that Guy no longer seemed to take an interest in the business.

  Franky tightened his hands on the steering wheel. It was a distraction to keep his hands from wrapping around his best friend’s neck. Guy hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing he could’ve helped anyway. He was just born with good looks, money, and family power. It wasn’t Guy’s fault Franky’s perfect woman had fallen for him. Franky could’ve handled that. He could’ve put up with Gracie following Guy around like a lost puppy dog for a few months. Eventually, she would’ve given up and moved on like the other girls in Guy’s life. Franky could’ve swept in then to hold her while she cried. He could’ve picked up right where he left off on the make-Gracie-fall-in-love-with-Franky-and-marry-him plan. But, no. No, his best friend had to go and fall for her, too!

  Traitor!

  Franky couldn’t even be upset with Guy. Guy didn’t steal his girl. Guy didn’t even know Franky knew Gracie existed. Guy stealing Gracie from him would’ve almost been easier. Almost. At least Franky could’ve punched him for it.

  Franky was spending twenty-four/seven with Antonio. The war was in full swing. The battle lines had been drawn. Costa and Bianchi versus Milano. The first few days had been a bloodbath. Street crews went at each other night and day, trying to make a name for themselves. Milano’s crews fought hard, at first. But, after a few days, they could see the writing on the walls. Made men and street crew members alike tried to jump ship and come on board with either Costa or Bianchi. Both families gave the traitors a place, a job, a home. Temporarily. Everyone involved knew the outcome. You couldn’t turn on one family and expect a long life in another. Once the war ended between the three families and Milano was dead, there would be a bloodbath of another kind as the traitors were wiped out.

  “Where we goin’, Boss?” Franky asked. Antonio should’ve been locked away in his hotel until this was over. He should’ve had guards with him nonstop, but Antonio was stubborn. He wasn’t letting anyone lock him away while the battles raged. Since the ambush, Franky had taken to carrying three pieces on him. One gun at the small of his back, one in an ankle holster and one in a shoulder holster. He had also started carrying a knife attached to his arm. With one solid flick of the wrist, the knife would descend into Franky’s hand. Franky had to wear long-sleeved shirts through the heat, but the extra protection was worth it.

  “Costa’s.”

  “His house?”

  “Yes. Nuttin’ to hide now.” True, Franky thought. Milano already knew they were gunning for him. Two of the four of Milano’s inner circle were dead. It was just a matter of time now.

  Franky turned into the country club neighborhood. The large houses were set back from the streets with wide lawns separating them. Franky turned into Costa’s driveway and pulled the car around the back. Yes, Milano may have known Costa and Bianchi were working together, but that was no reason to broadcast it by parking in front of the house.

>   Costa was alone, not even a bodyguard around, standing on the back patio. Franky thought he was being stupid and cocky. In this business, it was always a good idea to make sure someone was watching your back. A few someones would be good now.

  The three men made their way to Costa’s study. They stood eyeing one another. Franky didn’t know the purpose of the meeting. Antonio liked to play his cards close to his chest, so he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.

  “Drinks, gentleman?” Both Antonio and Franky declined. Franky would’ve loved whiskey but needed to keep his wits about him in the viper’s den. Costa poured one for himself before officially starting the meeting.

  “Milano’s team has dwindled down to one,” Costa said.

  “One? Other than him?” At Costa’s nod, Antonio continued. “It’s close, then.”

  “Yes. We need to draw our boundaries now. I do not want a feud between us when Milano is gone.” Costa chose a chair in a small seating area. The power move would’ve been to address Antonio across his expansive desk. Choosing the sitting area showed they were friends, not adversaries. Smart, thought Franky. The move caused Antonio to lower his guard a notch but not Franky.

  “And this is your show of trust? Being outnumbered by me and Franky?”

  Costa looked at ease, even outnumbered as Antonio had pointed out.

  “This is a new time, Antonio. I think you can see that as well as I. Milano can’t. It’s time to put away the old days.”

  “Worked for me so far.” Antonio sat in the chair next to Costa, but there was nothing relaxed about his stance. He leaned forward on the seat ready to pounce. Costa leaned back in his chair. Antonio could strike before Costa even had a chance to react. That was the impression, anyway. Franky thought different. Costa wasn’t a fool. He had to have a way to defend himself. Franky started scanning the area for any weapons. With Milano’s family crippled, Costa could wipe Antonio out now and be the only one left standing. But, it wouldn’t be the best move. It would leave him open to the New York families to invade the territory.