Skin Games (19 page)

“I know.  Thanks.”

She parked the car, and we walked to the door.  I found my keys and we walked inside.  Without turning on a light, I walked straight up to my room.  I didn’t look behind me, but I heard her following.  I got to my room and exhaustion took over.  I plunged down on my bed.

Nicole reached down and took off my sneakers.  Then she undid my belt and slid down my pants.

“I can stay,” she said.

The offer was a good one.  I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to taste her and enjoy her, relieve the stress that built up from the never-ending day.  But instead, I barely managed to say, “Thanks anyway,” before I passed out.

My phone rang several times, but I ignored it.  I was just too exhausted.  My body refused to move.  But when I heard it ringing for the fourth or fifth time in an hour span, I came to my senses.  It could have been news about my mother.

I jumped out of bed and grabbed the phone from my night table.

“Hello.”

“Shamrock.  What’s up?”  It was Vinny Macho.

“Not too much.”

“I’ve been calling you all morning, man.”

“Sorry.  I had a long night.”

“I heard, Shamrock.  I’m really sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thanks.”  Then I thought for a moment and asked, “You heard about my mother?”

“Yeah.  Yeah.  That’s why I need to talk with you.  I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

He wasn’t asking.

“Okay.”

I jumped in the shower; then I got dressed.  My toast was popping out of the toaster, and my coffee was just starting to brew when my doorbell rang.  With a butter knife, I slid some jelly across the toast.  The bell rang repeatedly, so I stuffed the toast in my mouth while I walked to the door.

“Hey, Shamrock,” Vinny said as I opened the door.  Scrubby Mike stood behind him.

I walked back to the kitchen, and he followed me as far as the living room.  Scrubby stood in the doorway, not walking inside the house or closing the front door.

“Come on, kid.  We need to go.”

“What’s the rush?  I’m eating my breakfast.  I just got up.”

“Take it to go.  Come on.”

Again, he wasn’t asking.  Vinny was usually pretty laid back, at least towards me.  But when he said something, he expected to be obeyed.

I grabbed a mug and poured my coffee; then I walked to the coat closet and grabbed my leather jacket.

A bright white Camaro was double-parked and running in front of my house.  Orange racing stripes zigzagged down the side of the two-door vehicle, and white smoke ran in a steady stream from two exhaust pipes that ran along each side of the car.

“Get in the back, Scrubby,” Vinny said.

“Aw, fuck, man,” Scrubby said.

“Just do it.”

Vinny walked around and got in.  Scrubby opened the heavy passenger door, pushed back the beige leather front seat and slid into the back.

“I hate it back here.”

“Just shut up.”

I got in the passenger seat and closed the door.  Vinny gassed the pedal and the car roared.  He put it in gear and the car bucked; then the wheels let out a chirp as we took off.

I didn’t ask where we were going.  Loud dance music blasted from bouncing oval speakers that were mounted on the doors, making conversation impossible anyway.  We drove up to Tremont, and when Vinny turned left, heading east, I figured out our destination.

The Camaro stopped in front of the Cucina.  The engine cut off, the music quieted, and for a moment all was silent, other than a ringing in my ears.

Scrubby leaned forward in the seat, pushing it into my back.  Then he said, “Let’s go.”

Vinny opened his door, stepped out and lit a cigarette while I unlocked the door and tried to squeeze around the folded seat.

“Come on, man.  Let me out.”

I wanted to tell Scrubby to fuck off, but instead, I pushed the seat towards him and quickly slid my body out of the car.  As soon as I let off the seat, he thrust it forward and it banged into the dashboard.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Vinny said.  “Can’t you get out of a car?”

“It’s fuckin’ tight back there, Vinny,” Scrubby Mike said while lighting up a smoke of his own.

Vinny grunted and turned towards the door.  Scrubby eyeballed me as he sucked on his Marlboro Light.  I followed Vinny.  Vinny flicked his butt and walked inside the restaurant.

Vinny stepped up to the bar and ordered a Seven and Seven.  Scrubby followed and ordered a beer. 

Coming in from the back staircase, I saw Gucci Mike.  He walked up to me and said, “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” I said and started to walk towards the steps.

Scrubby turned to follow, but Gucci Mike said gruffly, “Wait here.”

Scrubby threw up his arms and said, “Why?”

“Mario wants to speak to him.”

“Okay.”  Scrubby sounded like a kid who’d been picked last on the playground.

We walked towards the back of the restaurant, and I was surprised to see Nicole, sitting by herself in a corner booth, reading a magazine while eating a slice of pizza.  It was barely noon.  She didn’t look up from her magazine as Gucci Mike and I walked past.

The stairway down to the private dining area was dark, and once downstairs, it didn’t get any brighter.  The hallway opened into the dining room, and there was the room’s familiar dimness; just the light of Mario’s fake candlestick at the edge of his corner booth.

His back to the room, I could see Mario’s shoulder and the side of his head.  His fat ass didn’t quite fit on the bench, and you could see the overflow of blubber sticking out.  Gucci Mike led the way and stopped in front of the table.  I slowly walked up, turned towards Don Mario and waited.

Mario took a gulp of red wine, then pushed the plate in front of him towards the center of the table.

“The calamari’s cold,” he said.

“You want I get you some fresh?” Gucci Mike asked.

“Nah.  Just leave us.”

“Okay.”

Gucci Mike picked up the plate and walked out of the room.  I stood, waiting.

Mario turned his neck slightly towards me but didn’t actually look at me as he said, “Sit down.”  He gestured to the seat across from him.

I sat down.

Finally, Mario looked at me.  His hands were clasped together on the table in front of him, and he stood still.  It was like he had x-ray vision; I felt his eyes burning a hole right through me to see into my soul.

I tried not to stare back, but I didn’t want to look away either.  Instead, I focused on his neck.  It was safer than staring him in the eye.

Mario poured a glass of wine and pushed it towards me.

“Thank you, but I don’t drink.”

He snickered.  “That’s right.  I forgot.”  He slid the glass back towards himself and poured the contents of the glass into his own wine glass.  “You know, Shamrock, some people consider it an insult to turn down a drink.”

“No offense intended, sir.”

He nodded.  “I know.  That’s why I’m not insulted.”

“Good, sir.  I assure you none is intended.”

“I’m very sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“She okay?”

“I’m not sure, sir.  I’m going to check on her as soon as we finish here.”

“Good.  That’s good.  A good man always looks after his mother.  That’s important.”

“Yes, sir.”

“My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“Yes, sir.  I like her, too.”

“You like my daughter?”

“Yes, sir.  Very much, sir.”

“Very much?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much?”

“Very much.  That is, I think the world of her.  She is very special, your daughter.  But of course, you know that already.”

“Yes.  I do know that already.  But do you?”

“Sir?”

“Do you know how special Nicole is?”

“I believe I do.  Yes.”

“Nicole is accustomed to a certain lifestyle.”

“Yes.  Of course she is.”

“I can’t have my daughter off with some peasant.  Understand?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Nicole needs to be well taken care of.  She needs the finest life has to offer.  Can you provide those things for her?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Mario paused, then took another slug of wine.  “You’ll do your best.”

“Yes, sir.”

He breathed heavily.  “I believe you.  That’s why I’ve decided to give you some more work.  If you are going to provide for my daughter, you are going to have to earn more.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir.  Whatever it takes.  I welcome the opportunity.”

“Good.  And about your mother.  I’m going to have Vinny give you some money for her care.”

“Sir.  That isn’t necessary.  I can take care of her.”

“No.  I insist.”

“I can’t take charity, and I don’t want to owe shit to Vinny.”

“I understand.  It won’t be charity.  And it won’t be a loan.  No juice.  Just an advance on the money you are going to earn.  And believe me, you will earn the money.  Okay?”

This time, I paused, and for the first time looked Don Mario directly in the eyes.  He stared back.  Was it the glare of a lion, about to spring on a hapless gazelle?  Or did he see Nicole as the gazelle, and me the lion, and himself as merely the protecting father?

I didn’t say a word, but I nodded in agreement.

“Great.  Then it’s settled.”  He leaned his head back and emptied the glass of wine.

“Daddy?”  The voice was coming from the hallway.  She called again, “Daddy?  Are you in there?”  It was higher in pitch than usual.  She emerged from the entranceway and walked up to us.  Her speech was practically baby talk as she asked, “What are you two up to in here?”

Don Mario turned to his daughter and said, “Me and Sean are just getting to know one another.  Isn’t that right, Sean?”

“You bet.”  Now it was Nicole who I couldn’t quite look in the eye.

She seemed to sense this as she spoke with a hint of tenseness, but her voice still had a kidlike tone.  “Is he being nice to you?”

I looked towards Mario, then at Nicole and smiled.  “Of course.”  I stood up from the table and said, “I better get going.”

“Of course,” Mario said.  “You’d better go check on your mother.”

“Oh, Sean.  Let me drive you.”

“Sure.”

“Daddy, I’m going to take Sean to the hospital.”

“Okay.”  As we started walking away, he added, “Sean.  Don’t forget to check in with Vinny on your way out.”

“Okay.”

Nicole looked at me, but I looked straight ahead, pretending not to notice her interest.  We walked up the steps, and as we passed the bar, I nodded to Vinny.  Vinny put down his drink and started walking towards me.

“Go start the car,” I said to Nicole.  “I’ll be right out.”

“What’s going on?”

“Please.  Just go start the car.”

“Fine.”  The cutesy voice was gone, and a cranky princess took its place, but she did as I asked.

Vinny offered his hand to shake it, and when I did, I felt a wad of bills in his hand.

“That’s for your mother.  It should cover a week or two at that hospital.”  As I pocketed the money Vinny continued, “And this is for you.”  He handed me a slip of paper and a car key.  “I need you to repo a car for me.”

“Okay.  Where?”

“It’s local.  All the details are written on the paper.  Call me at the shop later if you have any questions.  Otherwise, I’ll expect you at the shop, tonight, with the car.”

“Okay.  I’ll take care of it.”

“I know you will, kid.  I know you will.”  As I started walking towards the door, Vinny said, “Tell your mother I said hello, and I hope she feels better.”

I didn’t turn back to him as I replied, “Yeah,” without much emotion.

The black Mercedes sedan was waiting, its engine revving, its right side wheels up on the sidewalk.  Nicole sat inside, tapping forcefully on the steering wheel.

I stepped inside and sunk into the plush cushion.  She gunned the engine, and we banged down and off the curb even before I was able to pull the door closed.

A game of chicken ensued.  She drove intently, pretending not to be upset while I looked ahead pretending not to notice.

Finally, the princess in her took over.  She couldn’t take being ignored.  “Is everything okay, Sean?”

“I don’t know yet.  I’ll find out when we get to the hospital.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Everything is fine.”

“What went on at the Cucina?”

“Since when do you eat lunch at the Cucina?”

“I wanted a slice.”

“The pizza there sucks.  Everyone knows that.”

She exhaled dramatically and asked, “What did my father say to you?”

“Nothing important.”

“I doubt that.”

“I asked you not to speak with him.  I told you I could handle things.”

“Sean.”  She was whining and for the first time, I found her irritating.  “I can’t just stand silent and let him harass you.  You can get hurt.  And now you have your mother to deal with...”  Her voice trailed off.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.  I’m sorry.  I know you have enough on your mind with your mother.  I’m just trying to help.”

“I know.  It’s okay.”

Without taking her hands from the wheel, she leaned over and quickly kissed my cheek, and I smiled and forgot what was annoying me about her.  She dropped back into her seat and winked at me.  Our first lover’s quarrel was quickly in the history books.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and she stopped the car.

“You can let me out here,” I said.

“I want to come in with you.”

I got out and started walking towards the entrance.  She followed.

We walked in the main entrance to Jacobi Hospital and up to a large desk with a security guard behind it.

Nicole quickly scooted in front of me and said, “We are here to see Tina O’Donnell.”

He put down the Styrofoam cup of coffee he’d been drinking and looked at a clipboard.

“Room 537.  Down that hall, to the right, second bank of elevators to the fifth floor.”

“Great.  Thank you.”

He took out a book of guest passes and handed us two.  “Keep those on at all times, please.”

“Of course.”

We peeled the stickers from their labels and put them on our shirts, then followed his directions to the elevators.  When the elevator opened to the fifth floor, I felt an instant sense of dread.  This floor was for the sick patients.  I could just tell.  It smelled of pine.  People stood in the hallway, looking somber and speaking quietly.  There were three nurses standing at the nursing station with weighted expressions on their faces.  It was just another day for them, but that day could be the last day for some of the patients on this ward.  I think it weighed heavily on them.  Or maybe it was my imagination, and they didn’t give a shit either way.