Love is Just a Moment (8 page)

“Alright,” Sal shrugged, “you want a drink? Sit down.”

He beckoned to the bargirl down below who always had one eye on the balcony in case they called for her and she hurried up the steps, lest she invite the wrathful words and temper that would follow if she served them even a second too slow.

“How’s that little gal you been running with?” Sal asked, cockeyed, considering Lou.

Lou blinked and swallowed, clearly surprised that Sal knew so much about what he was up to, let alone actually even cared. “Lisa?” he said, “good. She’s good.”

“Yeah? She go up to that CCU right? You work up there too, is that correct?”

“Uh, yeah Sal, just two nights a week. Gives me something to do… of course I’d much rather work for you.”

Sal ignored the comment. “What’s your girl study up there again?”

“Business and commerce mostly,” Lou answered, “stuff like that.”

Sal exchanged glances with Eyeball and Ferret and the three of them sniggered. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, she goes up there with my sister.”

Sal leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Sister?” he said, “Hell, I forgot you had a sister. She must be… how old now?”

“Nineteen,” Lou replied, “Sandy’s nineteen. It’s hard to believe. She grew up so fast.”

“Yes, she did,” Sal smiled. “Sandy Guilianno, nineteen. Imagine that…” he looked to Romeo suddenly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Romeo, whose jaw had all of a sudden seemed to tighten to a tense, taut rigidity, shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, “it’s my ulcer.”

“Ulcer,” Sal said, “well what the hell you drinking scotch for?”

Romeo shrugged and then tipped up his glass, drained it and then placed it back on the table, his big dark eyes never leaving Sal’s face, almost as if the little prick was daring him to bust his balls a little harder. Sal decided to let it pass.

“Well,” he said, looking back to Lou, “all this is very interesting to me, because we’ve been thinking about going back to college ourselves, haven’t we boys? Maybe enlisting to teach a class or two—the school of hard knocks, maybe. What do you think, you fellas come to that class if we run it?”

Romeo shrugged, Lou nodded. “Sure.”

“That’s good,” Sal said, “that’s very good. You might just find yourselves a whole hell of a lot richer—if you play your cards right.”

“You know how to play cards boss,” Eyeball said, “that’s for sure.”

“Fuggedabout it!” Sal grinned and then turned to Romeo and Lou, “my luck’s been up all week. A sign from God maybe, I don’t know.”

Romeo and Lou exchanged glances and suddenly Sal decided he’d had enough of them. “Ok,” he said, “get out of here, we’ll be in touch. And tell that hussy at the bar to send Candy up here. I want to talk to her, ok?”

“Candy?” Lou said, “you got it.”

“Good boy,” Sal nodded and the two young men left the table.

“Arrogant little prick,” Sal muttered as he watched them leave, “Lou Guilianno, acting like a big somebody—if only that deadbeat father of his could see him now.”

“New shuffle’s up boss,” Eyeball said, directing Sal’s attention to the deck, “fresh cards on the table.”

“Damn right,” Sal said and reached down to see what the Lord had deemed fit to deal to him this time.

I was still seriously P.O.’d about how the so-called “date” had ended, even though it was now two full days later and despite the fact that it was exactly what I’d been expecting from those guys in the first place. So why then had it felt like I should have gotten something more, if not from Lou then from his new friend—this “Romeo” guy?

I didn’t know, I couldn’t put it into words even to explain it to myself, and that particular fact was only making me even more irritable and frustrated. Why couldn’t I just drop it? So what if the guy was a bull-headed, insensitive jerk? That just went with the territory on the Orange Grove. (And yeah, ok, so Romeo himself was from New York, but he was clearly from the
New York
version of the Orange Grove, whatever name that went by, so the rule still applied.)

But still I couldn’t put it out of my thoughts. Yes, I
had
been planning to leave early myself but at least I would have made my exit in a somewhat polite manner. If I’d been given a chance to, that is. Instead, moments after whipping out his phone, Romeo had looked up sharply at Lou who was canoodling with my smitten-kitten BFF and said, simply: “Yo. We got to go.”

Lou had glanced up, eyes glazed from love hormones and said: “what?”

“We’ve got to roll. Right now.”

They looked at each other for a second and Lisa stared from face to face between them, wide-eyed and dazed. I felt my lips curl into a thin smile of distaste and shook my head slightly. Nice, guys, real nice…

“What is it baby?” Lisa had asked, smiling hopefully at her new beau like she’d forgotten to bring her self-respect as an independent woman out with her that day.

Romeo stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry babe, it’s important,” Lou muttered, kissing Lisa’s cheek and rising too.

“But isn’t this important Louis?” Lisa had asked.

“Obviously not,” I muttered and Lou shot me a dirty look.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said and then the two jerks sauntered out, going straight back into tough guy-swagger mode. I watched Romeo’s muscular back through his leather jacket as he left. The jerk didn’t even look at me, let alone say goodbye.

So now, two days later I was still thinking it over when I came back into Gino’s—this time to work an evening shift and help him out with the dinner rush. I was surprised to find the shutters were down, even though it was five pm and the café was supposed to have been open all day. Gino must have gone out to get something I reasoned, neglecting in my preoccupation to wonder what might have been so important that he couldn’t wait until
I’d arrived in for my shift first. In a moment I would find out exactly what that was and then I’d forget all about Romeo Mancini, at least for the moment anyway…

“Gino, you in?” I called as I swung my book-bag up onto the counter. No answer.

“That’s weird,” I muttered, noticing that the linen till-cover was still draped over the old-fashioned cash register on the counter. In fact the whole place looked as though it hadn’t been opened at all that day.

“Gino?” I called again, stepping past the counter and out to the back hallway.

When I saw him my blood ran cold.

“Oh gosh, Gino!” I cried out, rushing forward to the unmoving lump of a man who was curled up and twisted at the bottom of the staircase. I fell to my knees beside him and placed my hands, softly but firmly on his shoulders. There was blood, not a lot, but enough to stimulate the first waves of an overwhelming panic that was about to wash over me. “Gino are you alright! What happened to you?”

No answer.

“Gino!”

This time there was a groan, faint and groggy, but alive at least. My shoulders collapsed in relief.

“Carmie, is that you?” he murmured.

“No, Gino it’s me Sandy. Hold on, I’m going to call an ambulance to come get you...”

I rushed out to the office and picked up the phone but the line was dead. In a flurry I ran into the café to use the customer pay phone but then I realized I had no change in my pocket and the key to the cash register would be firmly wedged in Gino’s inside pocket. I didn’t want to risk moving him to try to get it.

“Ok, think Sandy, think…”

Free texts. I had a bundle of free texts on my phone to use up this month, which had been tiding me over in lieu of call credit for the last couple of days since I was trying to save cash wherever I could. Cursing my own frugality, I whipped out my phone and began frantically tapping.

“
Gino Accident at Café Can’t call ambulance HELP!!!
”

I hit send to both Lisa and Lou, and then rushed back to Gino. I dropped to the ground beside him and placed my hand tentatively on his shoulder.

“Gino, what happened?” I asked.

“Sandra… I don’know, I must have fallen, I think…” Before I could stop him, he tried to get up, crying out in absolute agony as his abdomen moved but his twisted legs stayed exactly fixed in their sickeningly-warped position. They were broken, both of them, and badly by the looks of it.

“Don’t!” I cried, “Stay still, I’ll get help...”

That second, as if to prove my point, my cell phone started to ring.

“Hold on,” I promised and then stood up to answer my phone. “Hello?” I choked down the line.

“Hello, Sandy?”

I blinked. For a moment I didn’t know who it was and then the fog cleared. It was Romeo, Lou’s new friend. “Romeo?” I said, “Where’s Lou?” I didn’t even have to time to wonder why it was him calling instead of my brother.

“He’s not here,” Romeo answered, “with Lisa I think. Are you ok?”

“No!” I shouted, unstoppable tears beginning to spill down my cheeks, “Gino’s had an accident and I can’t call an ambulance! Please help me!”

“Ok,” Romeo said, “hold tight. I’ll call the paramedics and then I’ll come over myself and pick you up. You’re at the Café, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“Cool, that’s not too far from the hospital—they’ll be there within minutes. So will I. Everything’s going to be ok Sandy. See you soon.”

“Ok,” I said, my voice choked and sniffling, “thanks.”

The line went dead and I went back to sit by Gino’s side until whoever arrived first, the ambulance or Romeo Mancini.

It went like this: the paramedics arrived in as fast and efficiently as a well-trained army, two tall, muscular men, striding into the café in their gleaming uniforms.

“Where is he?” the first one demanded.

“Out here,” I called from the hallway door.

They burst into movement again, striding past me.

“Any idea what it was? Does he have heart problems, poor health?”

“No,” I spluttered, “I think he fell down the stairs.”

“Ok, good,” the paramedic nodded and then they were beside him. “Sir, can you hear me?”

Gino murmured his affirmation and then they checked him over. One of them stood up and turned back to me. “Looks like he’s got a couple of breaks. They’re bad, but he’s going to be alright.”

“Ok,” I nodded, feeling more helpless than I had in years.

“We’re going to take him to the hospital. Can you follow behind us?”

At that moment Romeo appeared in the door, strong, cold and calm. “Yeah,” he said, “we’ll be right behind you.”

The paramedics loaded Gino up on a stretcher and he couldn’t speak when I squeezed his hand as they carried him past us, because of the ventilator mask covering his mouth. Romeo placed his hand on my shoulder.

“He’s going to be ok,” he said. “Come on, my car’s outside. We’ll be there practically before they will.”

I turned to face him. “Thank you,” I said, really meaning it. His face was expressionless when he nodded slightly in return.

Romeo’s car was double-parked outside (an excusable transgression in this situation, although something told me he probably flaunted the basic rules of the road everywhere he went and, indeed, he didn’t even put on his seatbelt when we jumped in the car to follow the ambulance—a fact which only dawned on me later). The car was a sleek, silver Lexus and exceptionally clean and spotless on the inside. I would have been impressed if I hadn’t been so shaken up. He squeezed my arm softly as I settled down into the luxurious leather passenger seat beside him, a comforting gesture that was at odds with the still-stony, almost frozen, expression on his face. He turned the ignition and pulled out into the street without even waiting to see if anyone else was coming behind us. From there to the hospital he stayed close behind the ambulance, bobbing in and around the traffic as it did, and looking at him, I had to wonder if he’d had a lot of experience chasing ambulances in moments of disaster and tragedy.

At the hospital, they wouldn’t let us in to see Gino (even though Romeo lied and said I was family—and ok, it was an
almost
truth, Gino kind of was family) until after the doctors and nurses had operated and we sat down to wait on the uncomfortable seats outside the room, two refuges stranded in a world of uneasy yet vibrant activity.

Romeo went to get us some coffees from the machine at the end of the corridor and I sat and waited for him, stuck to my chair like I was tied down by an impossible weight, completely lost and helpless in the bustling and unfamiliar hospital hallway. Doctors and nurses rushed past me from either side, talking as fast as they walked and disappearing almost as soon as they appeared. I felt dizzy, faint, and was almost certain I was about to have a full blown panic attack when Romeo returned to my side and softly touched my arm.

“Hey,” he said. He was holding a cardboard tray with two Styrofoam cups in his other hand, effortlessly balancing the uneven weight of the thing in his casual thumb and finger grip.

“Hi,” I said, looking up at him. I wanted to say more, like how grateful I was that he’d been there for us in our hour of need, but I was too shocked and exhausted from the experience to even know where to begin.