by S. W. Frank
The man laughed and Nico decided it was time to stop fucking around and went to sit. “I’m here to pay his debt –in full. I’m not interested in anything else.”
Chip nodded. “Money is a great communicator. He owes me one hundred and fifty grand.”
Nico took note. Sergio had a problem with telling the truth. He exaggerated figures. “Once you’re paid, you don’t harm Sergio or his family. If Sergio’s dumb enough to get mixed-up with you again, have fun with him –but his kin, they’re hands off, got that!”
“Hypotheticals aren’t payment. Bitches like Sergio have to have a major incentive to deliver. I get paid, the bitch can walk out of here, I don’t get my money, I’m shooting you both.” Chip snarled.
Nico wasn’t intimidated by the threat. Chip talked that way because he didn’t know who the fuck he was actually dealing with. If he did he’d shut the hell up. To face Nico Serano outside the family was often reserved for the dying. His appearance changed so often, no one but close family actually knew what he looked like. This is how he got things done quietly, nobody likes an over-exposed celebrity; just ask the kids, they’ll tell you.
Nico held up a car key. “There’s a silver rental parked on the north side of the street. Send someone for the duffle bag in the trunk. There’s an extra fifty for your troubles inside.”
Sergio breathed a little too loudly after Nico’s statement. Yep, losing fifty grand must be hard on an amateur con-man. No wonder the kid was in the hole with Chip.
Chip smiled. “I like you.” He gestured to the tough-guy near the door. “Go get my money Tony. I think I have a new friend!”
“Now we’re friends?”
“Anybody who can throw in a sweetener like he owns the sugar mill is somebody I call friend.”
Tony went to snatch the key form Nico’s hand, and met resistance. He gave it a tug and Nico’s fingers failed to budge. Slowly, Nico relaxed his fingers and released the remote key when he was good and ready. Nico answered Chip after dismissing Tony. “My best friend was my bother and he’s passed away. I’m not shopping for replacements.”
Dance music drifted in the office when Tony exited to collect his employer’s money. When the door shut, the sound was of men breathing. It took six minutes tops for Tony to return with the bag. He sat it on Chip’s desk and the contents were browsed.
“You know Mohawk, its good closing a deal with a business-man. We’re solid. Have a drink or a drink of the female kind on the house.”
Nico stood, he wasn’t interested in a drink or anything else Chip had to offer. He declined, “Thanks for the offer but I don’t drink.” Nico snatched the key from Tony with ease and grinned, “That’s how it’s done.”
He would love to break the man’s neck and put that key right in Chip’s jugular, but he wasn’t putting his neck out for Sergio, he wasn’t worth it. Besides, he didn’t want to delay making it home to his woman or his boys.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The sun did come and with it the realization another of their family faced peril of a different kind. Selange’s hand gripped her husband’s fingers tightly as they hurried from the elevator in search of Giuseppe.
Alfonzo had been a pillar during the flight when Selange broke-down in tears. She cried her despair into his shirt, repeating how she was supposed to be at Shanda’s side when she had her child. They had made a girl pact one day as they sat on a bench outside Selange’s building. The friends vowed they would always have each other’s back. She sobbed and he held his woman, saddened their honeymoon ended this way, heart-broken in fact.
“Where is Shanda Johnson?” Selange exclaimed loudly when they reached the hospital staff gathered behind a familiar counter holding charts and clad in scrubs and white jackets.
“¿Quién?” A nurse asked from her seat behind the booth.
Suddenly, Giuseppe appeared. He looked like hell. “You have made it!”
They sauntered to him and Selange gripped his arms. Her eyes were pleading for news before she could ask, “Please tell me she’s alright Geo.”
Giuseppe’s hard exterior crumbled. He could only hug his sister-in-law because his soul finally broke. He needed the comforting arms of a mother and Selange was the closest to it. His tears were rivers pouring on her head. Once it began it would not stop.
“Giuseppe, what has the doctor said?”
He clutched Selange tighter for maternal warmth. “She is not doing well.”
“What happened, what do you mean, how’s the baby?” Selange’s questions kept coming.
Giuseppe could not give voice to his fears. He wanted Shanda well. The emergency situation is one in which he lacked control. An order, money, weapons, none of these things could fix it. Like the storm, he was being humbled and dropped to his knees before a power greater than any he’d known. The child he doubted lie in an incubator, resting like an angel, waiting for its mother and there was a possibility Shanda might not go home. Guilt seized his chest. Perhaps, he’d been selfish. His desire to experience heaven had caused this. Maybe, he was too rough. This was the punishment for his arrogance and he wept at what he’d done. He had a baby boy.
He wanted to shout to his father, to Carlo, “Papa I have a son!”
Alfonzo’s mouth tightened. Giuseppe apparently was too distraught to speak coherently, so he got his feet moving to learn exactly what the hell was going on. He leaned over the counter to speak with the nurse. In Spanish he requested information on the patient and when she asked his relationship to Shanda, he answered truthfully, “Su familia!”
****
Selange sat in the chair beside Shanda’s bed. She slept. The IV tubing and monitors were familiar. She’d come to places like this as a visitor and a patient on many occasions. The baby was beautiful as gorgeous as her friend. Whatever anger Selange harbored dissolved the moment she learned of Shanda’s condition. Thank goodness Giuseppe found her when he did or things could have been far worse.
The stubborn, wise-cracks from Shanda were sorely missed. Selange took Shanda’s hand and lovingly squeezed, wanting desperately to pass on strength. Shanda always wanted a child and a guy who would fight to protect them and boy did she get her wish.
“Sela’ when did you get here?”
Selange stood at the sound of her pet name. “A few hours ago. How are you?”
“I feel shitty.”
Selange smirked and caressed her friend’s forehead. “I love the hair.”
“Me too.” Shanda grinned. “I figured I could rock anything.”
“Yes, you can girl.”
Shanda looked around the room, searching for the baby, “Where’s my son?”
“The nursery. He’s fine.”
“I hope he develops some color because he’s too white.”
Selange chuckled, only Shanda would make such a statement. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“What, seriously, you saw the boy, he looks like Casper, am I lying?”
“He is pale, but most babies are.”
“No your children were red. I wanted to give them spears and put them on horseback and tell them to go hunt like their ancestors the Indians once did. Mine, I’ll have to use him for a light bulb at night.”
They laughed. If humor was any indication of good health, then Shanda was going to be alright. When t
he chuckles died, Shanda asked her friend if she received her letter and Selange responded, “What letter?”
“I wrote to you. I wanted to explain why I took off the way I did.”
Selange shook her head. “It doesn’t matter Shanda. I forgive you.” Selange’s eyes began to burn. She was just happy to have her friend alive and well. “Let’s not talk about it.”
Shanda slid up a bit in the bed. She felt weak and slumped down again. Where had her energy gone, she wondered. She had to tell Selange before anything happened. She had to warn her it’s what she should’ve done earlier. This was a second chance. “Selange the feds were following me…they wanted me to wear a wire to your house…I had to leave…I couldn’t stay.”
Selange sobered. “Sha’ what are you talking about, why would the feds come to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your father…your father had something to do with it, didn’t he?”
“He came to my apartment with the agents. I think he knew of their investigation and figured I’d help nail Alfonzo for some dumb reason. I don’t think he thought he’d lose me, but he did.”
“Bastard!”
Shanda squeezed with everything she had, “Selange…let me handle my father…please, don’t have him killed.”
“Shanda he’s crossing the boundaries…he…”
“He’ll have to accept his grandchild’s father is in the mafia, its punishment, believe me. I know when he finds out, it’ll kill him.”
Selange’s face contorted from anger to empathy. It’s ironic, what Mister Johnson despised, its blood and semen mingled with everything he loved to produce a child. She didn’t have to lift a finger in retaliation, fate’s hand already intervened and she called it karma!
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“This is the last time I’m sticking my nose out for you Sergio. We part ways here.” Nico said to the man as they shared a meal at a diner in Astoria on the Queens side of the Triborough Bridge. It was renamed the R.F.K Bridge years ago, but many locals still used its former name. Old habits definitely are hard to break and Sergio obviously had too many for Nico to reshape.
“I fucked up Uncle Nico. I’ve been doing it my whole life but I’m trying to change, if my family just gives me a chance to prove it and stop beating me down.”
Nico chewed on his breakfast sausage. He wasn’t buying it. The youth lied about the amount of money he owed Chip, failed to mention it was mafia connected and those lies could have gotten them killed. Anyway, why should he believe anything he said now?
He was cutting the strings, Giuseppe was right. Sergio was too much trouble and he didn’t want to babysit a grown-ass man who didn’t have an ounce of honor or loyalty to anything except money. “This sister of yours, she’s a cop?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s her name?”
“Why?”
“Just making small-talk, why you have something to hide?”
Sergio sipped his coffee. Free breakfast was always the best. “No, her name’s Tonya, but my mom and I call her Peaches.” He frowned, “My mom said she was the sweetest out of her kids and I was the rotten one.”
“It’s what you tell yourself that affirms who you are. If you believe you’re shit, then shit you’ll be. What about her father, did he stick around?”
“Nobody sticks around long where I’m from if they have any sense.”
Nico stabbed another piece of the sausage and plunked it in his mouth. His jaw moved as he chewed and he eyed Sergio with a bored expression. The pity party con intended to sway him, wasn’t working. “Man up!”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take off the panties and put on some motherfucking pants!”
“Fuck you!”
“That’s what I’m talking about. You say shit like that and then you get your face busted in. Look in the mirror. How many times does it have to happen before you learn?”
Sergio’s anger was actually frustration. His Uncle Nico would never understand what it’s like growing up without a father or being poor. He had money and a close-knit family, Sergio didn’t. What he learned about being a man, he learned from the streets. It would have helped if his father had taken his mom out of the hell-hole, maybe his life would be different.
Sergio put down his fork and sulked.
Nico dug into the home fries unaffected by the silent tantrum, he had two boys at home. This Sergio jack-ass almost started a war and didn’t even know it. Nico forked the eggs, they were a bit soggy, he liked the way Ari cooked them, but he ate them because he was hungry and finished the flapjacks in a few short bites.
Sergio watched Nico eat, amazed at how cold-hearted he seemed. “Doesn’t it bother you about how your brother treated my mom?”
“Nope.”
“Is that how you mafia guys treat women?”
“Nope.”
“Nope…nope…nope…is that all you can say?”
Nico wiped his mouth and pushed aside his plate to give Sergio his undivided attention. The young man needed a reality check. “I’m not your father and I can’t talk for him. But what I will say Sergio is you can live in the past and keep playing the same old record or update to satellite radio and get with the times. Either you accept you had it rough as a kid and move on to become the man you want to be or stay a kid!” Nico rose, dug in his pocket and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the table. He eyeballed Sergio, “Where does Tonya live?”
“Why?”
“I want to drive by and make sure Chip kept his word.”
“I’ll show you. I need a ride to Brooklyn.”
Nico shrugged and headed for the door. Sergio slipped the bill in his pocket and followed. Outside the restaurant Nico halted. “You failed the test. Go back inside and pay the tab or I break your legs, capisce?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Giuseppe stuck his hand in the incubator smiling at the little baby. “He’s got a big head, eh fratellino?”
Alfonzo nodded, “He takes after his father.”
“I did have a very large head my mother said. She said labor was very hard.”
“I bet,” Alfonzo quipped; glad Giuseppe had begun to return to normal.
“You failed to warn me about childbirth. I am traumatized fratellino.”
“Warn you about what?”
Giuseppe cocked an eyebrow in his brother’s direction, “The baby pushes out of the mother’s micio like an alien spawn. It is frightening.”
Alfonzo chuckled. “Let me guess, your ass fainted?”
“I may have tired from not eating and napped.”
“Bull-shit!”
Giuseppe pushed Alfonzo’s shoulder but his brother didn’t budge. “Do not repeat this to anyone.”
“Don’t worry; you’re not the first man to topple over when he sees that pussy stretch wide. Kind of makes you wonder whether that big dick of yours is really big enough, huh?”
“True.”
“Read more books. It explains the entire reproductive process. I don’t have time to school you, but don’t worry lover boy, the size of your weapon is adequate.”
“Adequate…I am more than adequate.”
They were joking when they heard a tap on the nursery window. It was Selange. She gestured for Alfonzo. He stepped into the corridor. “Everything okay…what happened?”
Giuseppe joined them in the hall.
The minute Selange said, “Shanda’s parents are here and her father wants to arrange transport to have Shanda flown to New York with the baby for medical care.”
“What?” Giuseppe bellowed and took off.
Alfonzo shook his head and then followed his brother to
mediate if he had to because holy hell was certain to break loose if he didn’t.
****
Shanda’s parents were in the patient’s room with the doctor who filled them in on Shanda’s condition. They were shocked to learn she gave birth because they didn’t know she was pregnant. The emergency crisis was related to complications after childbirth. The doctor explained there are several possible reasons for severe bleeding during and after the third stage of labor: uterine atony, failure of the uterus to contract properly after delivery, trauma related to cervical, vaginal, or perineal lacerations, retained or adherent placental tissue, clotting disorders, and inverted or ruptured uterus. In Shanda’s situation, uterine atony was the cause. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson listened. They were numb.
The doctor assured Shanda’s parents she received the best treatment and the hemorrhaging had stopped. They were monitoring her for any signs of anemia. Overall, Shanda had survived and her condition steadily improved. They were about to ask about the premature delivery of their grandchild and his condition when Giuseppe entered.
Mister Johnson recognized the man immediately and pointed. “What the hell is he doing in here?”
The doctor held up his hand. “Please, please this is a hospital.”
“Dad,” Shanda said in a weak voice, “he has a right to be here.”
“The hell he does. You’re my daughter and this thug and his friends are screwing with your head!”
Giuseppe stood chest to chest with Mr. Johnson and was half a foot taller. “You are her father and yet you stand here tossing insults around to make her upset?”
Alfonzo appeared and Mister Johnson scowled, “You’re responsible for this. You’re the reason she’s in here. What the hell have you done to my daughter?”
Alfonzo put up his hands in mock surrender, “Me, I haven’t done shit to your daughter.”
The doctor slipped out of the room. This was a family matter that he wanted no part of. He had the nurse put security on alert to call the police if the group disturbed the floor. When she looked at him with frightened eyes and told him who the men were he changed his mind about the police. He did not want trouble later at his home.