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Authors: Robin H Soprano

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Antonio’s van is equipped for his wheelchair and all the gears are up by the steering wheel so he can maneuver the van all with his hands. I learned to drive it a while back just in case he needs to get somewhere but doesn’t feel up to driving.

We arrive at the nursing home first and parade Toby up and down the halls, saying hello to some of the staff. We pop into a few rooms so the patients can pet Toby or toss a ball to play fetch.

Some of the residents even have treats for him and Toby also knows where they hide the human treats, too. On more then one occasion Toby has found cookies, candies, even a cigarette or two.

About two hours later, we go across town and into the City of Jacksonville to the children’s hospital.

“This is the best,” I say to Antonio as we come through the automatic doors into the lobby area. “I love watching these kids light up when Toby comes in.”

“Yes it is, Gracie, yes it is. You go on ahead, I’m gonna go get-a-some balloons in the gift shop. I meet-a-you upstairs.”

When Toby and I get up to the fifth and begin our walk down the hall to the game room, the doctors and nurses call out to us.

“Where you guys been?”

“We thought maybe you weren’t coming today…”

I laugh and wave as Toby leads the way, trotting down the hall like he owns the place. When we get to the game room, an older doctor on the floor is watching the excitement. “I don’t know who is more excited, the kids or Toby. It’s a nice thing you do here for them, Mrs. Boumont,” he says.

Again I cringe at being referred to as Mrs. Boumont. “Gracie, please call me Gracie,” I insist.

“Hi, kids! How is everyone today?” I ask in the cheeriest voice I have.

“Fine,” they answer collectively.

I look around and many are not fine. They’ve got scars and shunts. Some have no hair or run about in special wheelchairs. But they always have big smiles. Some visits, they tell me what procedure they just had done and how brave they were. Some days I have to try really hard not to cry.

“CIAO BAMBINO’S!” Antonio calls in his big Santa Clause booming voice.

“How’s-a-everyone today?” The kids all go running to him as if he really is Santa! They share their same stories with Antonio as he hands out the balloons. He talks to some of the kids that, like Antonio, are in wheelchairs, too. I notice a tear or two in his eyes as well.

For a couple of hours we talk, color, play games and do tricks with Toby. But they tire easily and we can’t outstay our welcome. We wish the kids healthy blessings and say our good-bye’s.

 

*       *       *

 

“I’ll drop-a-you at your front door so you and Toby don’t get wet,” Antonio says. “The weather is getting nasty.”

“Really, it’s not so bad. A little wind and rain, that’s all. Thanks Tony, for coming with us and driving. The kids love you!”

“Oh I love-a-to go, it makes me feel good.”

He pulls in my driveway. “Okay caro right to-a-your front door.”

I get out of the van and Toby jumps out behind me and heads to the door. I’m still saying good bye and thank you to Antonio when I hear Toby growl.

“What’s the matter, Toby?” I ask, walking to see what’s wrong. My stomach drops to my feet and my heart begins to thump. I turn back to Antonio and yell, “Someone’s broken in!”

“Get back in the van, Gracie. Don’t go in-a-the house! Come back. Come sit in the van.”

I scramble back into the van. Toby is still standing near the door, stiff as a board with his hackles and ears up on full alert. Antonio is already talking on his cell phone.

“The police are on their way. Stay here, Gracie, don’t move. Capisce?”

“Y-y-yeaa…” I stutter. Antonio reaches in front of me to get to the glove compartment and takes out a gun. I can feel the color drain out of my face.

“You have a gun in here?” I squeal.

“I always carry a gun, Gracie. You stay put!”

              He wheels himself out of the driver’s seat and to the side door that slides open. The van has a chair lift that lowers him down and out the door. With just a push of a button, he comes around my side.

“You might want to call Salvatore, give him a heads up.”

He’s so calm I swallow to get my panic under control. I nod rapidly several times. I find Sal’s contact on my cell.

“Hello, Princess—

“Sal! I think someone has broken into my house and your dad has gone in there. He’s got Toby and a gun!”

“Where are you?” he yelled.

“I’m outside in the van. My front door was busted in..hello?..hello? Sal?” “Shit, the call dropped!”

But it didn’t. I look up and there is Sal running toward me.

“Gracie, are you okay?” he says on an exhale breath.

“Yes. But Tony’s in there with a
gun
and my
dog
!”

Sal opens the door and reaches a hand to touch my face. “Breathe, Gracie. Pop’s a good shot and chances are no one is in there. Did you call the police?”

“Yes, your father did.”

“Stay put!” he commands. “I’m going in.” Sal turns to go in my house and reaches around to the small of his back and pulls out a gun of his own.

“You, too?” I yell at him.

He turns and puts a finger to his lips to hush me. I snap my lips shut and clench my hands together in my lap. Oh god.. “be careful” I mouth to him. I close my eyes, I can hear my heart beat in my ears. I remember to breathe and turn to look at the house.

Finally two police cars and four officers arrive and I let out a long sigh. . A cop approaches me while I sit in the van with the door open.

“Hello, Mrs. Boumont?”              I grind my teeth at the sound of my name. “ Gracie. Please, just call me Gracie.”

“Okay, Gracie. I’m Officer Dan. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I came home to find my doorknob busted and the door open. Antonio Petroni and his son Sal are in there. They’re armed - tell the others not to shoot them!”

The officer smiles. “We know Antonio. It’s fine. Has anyone come out?”

“No. I’m worried.” I give my head a shake to stop the ringing that’s started in my head.

“Have you heard gun shots?”

“N-n-no.”

“Well, that’s a good sign then,” he said. “Whoever it was that broke in is probably gone. But it’s a big house, so let us check it all out for you, It’s gonna be fine. Just stay right here and be calm.”

I nod and thank him. The other policemen all file into my house. Officer Dan follows behind them while conversing with someone on his walkie talkie.

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, Sal and that same officer come out to get me. Sal reaches for my hand.

“Come on, it’s clear. Come inside. We have to show you something.” Sal puts his arm around my waist and guides me into the house.

At first glance everything seems normal and untouched. “Gracie,” Sal says calmly, “go into the study.”

Like a robot I do as instructed. I enter the study where a small cabinet that housed a safe is tuned over and smashed. The safe was broken into and is empty.

Do you know what was in here?” Sal asks.

“I didn’t have anything in it. Richard told me he didn’t either. I think that’s been empty since my father-in-law passed away. I was told he used it for important documents and some of my mother-in-law’s jewelry. So as far as I know, it’s been empty for a few years.”

Officer Dan looked at me. “Where is the stuff now?” he asks. “Who has it?”

“Richard does, I guess.” I look at the floor. “We’re in the process of divorce. “He uses safety deposit boxes because of something just like this happening.”

The officer writes his notes and then looks at me again. I don’t see any judgements and somehow that makes this a little easier.

“Okay, ma’am we will call Mr. Boumont and ask him some questions.”

Antonio’s voice booms from the hallway. “Some-a-one knew where the safe was! They went right to it, nothing else just—a-that! It’s someone who knows-a-this house!

I look up at Sal who is nodding in agreement. Officer Dan gets a strange look on his face. “One more question ma’am, and we have to ask, do you know of anyone who would want to harm you or has anyone threatened you at all lately?”

“No not at all.” I answer.

“How’s the divorce going? Friendly or ugly?” he asks quietly.

I shrug and feel Sal move a step closer to me. “Is there such a thing as a friendly divorce? Richard and I are working things out through the lawyers. He isn’t to happy right now..”

He looks at me a long moment, then he closes his notebook. “Okay, we’re going to check for finger prints and see if we can find some answers for you. Since nothing’s out of order in here, if you’ll contain your movements to the kitchen, that would be best. We’re going to have a crew working this.”

Sal took my hand. “Come on, come with me.” He sits me down on a barstool by the counter and hands me a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

I open the bottle, take a long sip and stare into space.

“Gracie, look at me.” I only move my eyes in his direction. The rest of me is somehow suspended, disconnected.

“You okay?” he continues. “Talk to me, you look a little pale.”

“I’m.... I’m..okay.... but I totally feel violated.”

He touches my arm with his fingertips. I look at him. “I want to know something,” he says, “why was your alarm not set?”

“Not set?” I say like a parrot. Then it dawns on me and I sit straighter. “You’re right, Sal, it wasn’t going off! I always set it.
Always!

Oh my god, Antonio’s right!
Whoever broke in knew more than just where the safe was. Just then, Antonio joins us in the kitchen with the same thought.

“Gracie, the alarm was set? Yes?”

“Yes Tony,” I say, looking at him and two of the officers. “I always set the alarm.”

Antonio and Sal glance at each other in that silent communication they seem to have, then Antonio follows the other two officers out of the room.

“You sure you’re okay now?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I assure him. Can’t have him thinking I’m always going to be a basket case, can I? “I’m glad you and Antonio are here with me, though.”

Sal takes my hands and kisses them. “Listen, I’m going to stay here with you tonight so you’re not alone.”

“Oh?” I say, a little surprised. Umm, you don’t have to…” 

“Gracie, I am staying here with you or you are going to stay with us over at Pop’s. Either way you are not staying alone. I agree this is an inside job and we don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with. You are not alone anymore. You have me.”

He comes over to me around the counter, wedges himself between my knees and gently takes my face in his hands so we are eye to eye..  “Princess, you are not alone. Not anymore. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you, do you understand me?” I nod. “Good,” he says with a smug smile on his lips. “Now which is it, here or over there?”

“Here I guess.”

“Okay then.” He coaxed up my chin and brushed his lips with mine.

“Hey, Casanova, Antonio cut in abruptly, you gonna stay with her tonight?” Sal slowly broke our kiss, never moving his smoldering eyes from mine he smiled.

“Yeah pop I’ll be right here.”

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 9

 

 

The police are winding things up and I’m in the sitting room, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea. Sal and Antonio are in the kitchen with Officer Dan, so I watch as the weather changes from a dreary drizzle to a dark, nasty thunderstorm. Since I’m still feeling slightly out-of-body, I’m glad to let my two protectors handle things. I’m jarred out my daze by a voice I never thought I’d have to hear in this house again.

             

“Where is everyone? Hello?”

“I’m in here,” I call from the couch.

Richard enters the room, dripping wet, giving me a crazed look.

“What?” I ask, uncurling from my comfortable spot and plunking down my tea cup on the table.

“A
towel
would be nice, Grace.”

“Really, Richard? You know where they are - help yourself.”

He stalks off mumbling under his breath and on cue, there’s Sal watching Richard go off in a huff.

“Did he just ask you for a towel?”

“Yep,” I snap.

“He didn’t ask what happened or how you are? Just a towel?”

“Yep,” I reply again. So frustrated, I’m not all that sure I’m capable of much more in terms of answers, but I’d better get myself together.

Drying himself off and looking all kinds of annoyed, Richard re-enters the room.

“Well, what happened Grace?” he barks.

I take a deep breath.
Here we go
… I give him the short version.

“I came home the doorknob was broken and the door was ajar, whoever it was went right to the study, no where else. They busted the cabinet that holds the safe.”

“Was the alarm set, Grace? I know how scatterbrained you can be – you used to always forget.” I sigh. But, something’s shifted in me. His comment doesn’t bait me. “Yes Richard, the alarm was set. Someone knew the damn code.”

“Did you give it to someone? One of your leech friends, maybe?” he snarls.

Okay, I’m done being pushed around by this dick. “What? Richard have you lost your mind? Why would I give any of my friends the alarm code?”

“Who knows what you do Grace or why? You trust everyone. Do the police have anything yet?”

“I don’t know. They are just getting finished.”

“Do you know anything at all, Grace?”

His sarcasm is obnoxious and I don’t want to talk to him any more. I really want him out of the house. I look at him and then glance at Sal who’s standing there with fists clenched. I don’t need another scene, though, either. My anxiety issues are already on overload.

“Well?” Richard asks me again as if I’m two years old.

Sal takes a step towards Richard. “She’s told you what she knows.  The police are looking forward to questioning you. It’s good you stopped by, though I wonder why you did. Oh, and Gracie is fine by the way. She was a little terrified but we calmed her down. Thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t ask,
Romeo
, I can see she is fine.”

Richard turns and stalks off to go talk with the police. As he’s walking away I flip him my middle finger. Sal blinks his big brown eyes in disbelief and then bursts into laughter.

”Do you believe him?” I say, shaking my head.
What did I ever see in him?

Sal gets his laughter under control to answer me. “No,” he says, “but I know his type though. Controlling, everyone is wrong except him, his way or no way–how am I doing?”

I confirm his assessment with a grin.  We don’t have much quiet time, though.

“Grace,” Richard yells from the foyer.

I look at Sal. “I truly hate when he calls my name. It literally makes my skin crawl.”

Sal reaches out a hand to help me off the couch. “Let’s go see what his problem is. I just hope I don’t have to hit him.”

Putting my arm around Sal, I smile. “Get in line,” I joke.

Richard and Officer Dan are in the foyer. “We didn’t get any prints from the safe itself, or, curiously, the doorjamb or the desk. I suspect they used gloves and it looks like someone wiped down the area, too. No prints at all – not even yours,” he says to me. “Are your fingerprints on file?” he asks, almost as an afterthought.

“Sure. I had to be fingerprinted before I could take Toby to the children’s hospital.”

Richard is tapping on the alarm panel.

“The code last used was mine? How the hell did someone get
my
code?”

Officer Dan watched as Richard hit more buttons on the keypad. “Good question, I’d say. Mr. Boumont, did you give your code to anyone who would want to get in here and steal anything? Where were you at today?”

Richard looks over at Officer Dan and if looks could kill, the cop would have dropped right there. “Are you seriously thinking I would have something to with this?” The tone of his voice dripping in attitude

Officer Dan shook his head. “My job is to gather information, sir. I’m not accusing you of anything. But maybe accidentally you did–you could have given your code to—”

Richard’s rage is visible and I step just behind Sal. My breathing is an indication that I’m not as calm and collected as I thought I was.

“I DON’T ACCIDENTALLY DO ANYTHING! Unlike Grace, I watch every word and move I make. I have been telling her for years that when you have this kind of status you must take extra precautions. She never understood that.”

Richard’s words, as always, were starting to slowly unravel me. I forced a breath and cleared my throat. Sal bends his head a little to look in my face. “Gracie, you alright?”

“No, I’m not…” The room is beginning to move around me. Never a good sign.

“Richard,” Sal snaps, “why don’t you just back off now? Gracie is upset and you’re making it worse. I think everyone needs to go. Now. You all have what you need.”

Richard puts his hands on his hips. “Leave? You all seem to forget this is my house and I am allowing Grace to stay here until the divorce is final.”

“How generous of you,” Sal shoots back sarcastically.

“Yes, it
is
generous,” Richard snips at Sal. “The least she can do is be more careful. “You’ll see, you just wait, she’ll wear you down too.” Richard glanced in my direction.

“She never cared about anything I did for her, did you Grace? I move her to a beach with a big house and she complained about
all
of it. Did you tell him that Grace?”

I can feel hot tears burning in my eyes and a lump choking my throat.

“I said that’s enough for today!” Sal yells, putting his six feet-two inch frame in front of Richard’s slighter five feet seven inches.

“Did you ever ask her if that’s what she wanted or if she was happy?! You come in here like a bull practically accusing Gracie for getting robbed! You don’t even show the courtesy of asking how she is, or if she was hurt, or..”

Antonio yells something in Italian, cutting Sal off mid sentence; Sal backs off, but just a little. Officer Dan steps in between the two men.

“You should leave Mr. Boumont, before a simple break-in turns into domestic violence. If Mrs. Boumont has the court’s permission to be in the house during divorce procedures, then it really doesn’t matter if you own it. Her rights come first. She is very upset, and I think we did all we can do today. I have enough info to work with, thank you, Mrs. Boumont. We will do all we can. We’ll be in touch. I’m sure with Antonio and Sal near, you will be safe and secure. Try to relax.”

I thank him – and all of them – for their help and ask them to call me as soon as they have any new information.

Richard takes out a business card and hands it to Officer Dan. “You’d be better to call me,” he says with a sneer.

The officer takes the card and cocks an eyebrow at Richard. “Oh don’t worry, Mr. Boumont, you can count on it.”

After the police escorted Richard to his car, the three of us returned to the parlor.

Sal looks over at his father and speaks again in fluent Italian. Antonio answers him. Back and forth they go, their voices getting louder and hotter by the moment.

“ENOUGH!” I scream. “Stop! I don’t understand what you’re saying and you’re arguing. I have had enough!”

Antonio’s expression is part surprise, part shame. He nods that lovely silver head that I love. “Caro, we see things different. My son is ready to go on a mission half cocked over this–I tell him to just wait. The police are-a-my friends. I want to see what they come up with then we can go from-a-there.”

Sal takes my hands in his, “Gracie, I know people. I want to make some calls, phone in a few favors. I can probably get answers a little faster then the cops.”

I look over at Antonio. “Is that such a bad thing, Tony?”

“Look you two, let’s not step on-a-toes in the county. Some-a-times some of the cops are on-a-the take but Danny is clean, he’s a good cop, I knew his father. He and I agree this was not a random burglary like what I encountered years ago, let him poke around, when he finds some-a-thing, then, only then we call in the favors. Please, Gracie, Salvatore, trust me. I know what-a-to do.”

I look back at Sal, his face twisted in a smirk, his chocolate velvet eyes piercing mine, hands on his hips, looking like a little boy who just got punked. He’s adorable.

I cock an eyebrow at him. “I say we give the old guy a shot, what could it hurt?”

Sal drops his hands and laughs, shaking his head. “Okay fine, but as soon as we know something, it’s my turn.”

 

*       *      *

 

The thunderstorm raged the rest of the afternoon. Sal returned before dark, shower-fresh and wearing a tee shirt, sweats and slippers. He had some 2x4’s under one arm, a bag of nails and a hammer. In the other hand, a small box that said,
PHOTOS
in black marker. He drops the supplies on the floor in the foyer.

“Wanna help? Come hold the front door steady for me so I can nail these boards to it and keep it secure. The locksmith will be here in the morning.”

“Thanks. It’s been open so long today, I forgot about it not locking,” I say. “Thought I’d make some homemade chicken soup for dinner, are you hungry?

“Sure, that sounds great. I’ll help you.”

Once the door is good and secure, Sal and I venture to the kitchen. I hand him a bottle of wine and the corkscrew, then I take out onions, celery, and carrots from the fridge.

Sal pours us each some wine, we clink our glasses and take a sip. With wine still on his lips, he leans in and kisses me, slow and long. I taste the wine, feel the heat, feel my own heat building deep inside.

I feel his hands in my hair, then he moves them down my back…he presses me into him. His kiss got deeper.  This breathlessness is to die for and I feel as though I’m melting from the inside out. Sal’s Kisses always feel like his life depended on it.  I squeeze my fingers in his hard muscled arms and surrender to it. It terrifies me and yet it feels right.

When he lets me go, we stand there in each other’s arms, foreheads together and out of breath.

“Gracie.” His whisper is thick. I put my hands on his chest and back away, just a little.

I clear my throat.
Whew!
“What do you say we start that soup?”

His crooked smile touches my heart. “Give me a knife,” he says. “I’ll chop.”

“You like to cook?” I ask.

“Yeah, I know my way around a kitchen.”

“I can see that,” I say, “and other things as well.” He flashed me a big smile then shook his head.

“So tell me Sal, what else were you and your father fighting about earlier? I may not have understood all the words but anyone could tell there was more going on than you guys are sharing with me.”

“I figured you might have caught that,” he said, as he put some olive oil in a pre-heated pot with chopped garlic and tossed in the rest of the ingredients.

“Pop wanted me to back off Richard. He was afraid I was going to hit him and make things worse.” He put the knife and cutting board in the sink.

“I go to counseling to work on controlling my anger. I know I haven’t told you everything, yet.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay, here goes. I’ve seen a lot of crap. The military programs you like a machine; to fight, to kill. Quantico programs you in other countless ways. For lack of a better term, now that I’m out, I’m being deprogrammed. And, I’m making progress. But, when I see how Richard treats you, or when I think anything is going to harm you, I tend to loose it a little.”

He turns back to the pot and stirs at the mixture. I bring over the boxes of broth and some chopped chicken and dump it in. He continues to stir for a few minutes, then lowers the heat and puts the lid on.

I take out a loaf of Italian bread and began slicing it. Sal comes up behind me, puts his hands at my waist and turns me around.

BOOK: A Soul Mate's Promise
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