“Nice meeting you,” they said automatically. They looked a little shell-shocked, and it was certainly understandable. They’d recently become motherless, and now they were being separated from their father and abruptly torn from the only home they’d ever known.
Sal spoke softly, “Boys, I know this is a rough for you. I love you more than you know, but I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe. It’s just for a little while, then in August you’ll be off to Harvard and on your own. Walter used to be my bodyguard; he saved my life a couple of times. If not for him, I would have never met your mother. You can always trust him. Same goes for Tom, Laura and Dotty. They’re the only people you should trust. Understand?”
The boys responded in unison, “Yes sir.”
Sal took off the tubes, dropped the bottle, and wrapped his long arms around both of his boys. He held them close for a good minute, then kissed each of them on the forehead. “Boys, you don’t never need to worry about money, I arranged for you to be taken care of. You’re in good hands. Remember your old man will always love you.”
The driver came and helped Quiet Sal back into the limo, then retrieved the oxygen bottle. When they drove away was when I figured it out. Quiet Sal wasn’t saying goodbye to his sons for now, he was saying goodbye for the last time, like he knew he wasn’t coming back.
Six days later, we got the text that Quiet Sal had passed. For everyone’s safety, Sal had arranged to be cremated; there had been no funeral service.
Mostly to distract the boys, that night we all had a big family dinner at Walter’s place. Connie was there as well Dotty and their kids of course, as well as Laura and our three youngest. Connie had spent very little time so far with Laura, but she and Dotty were thick as thieves. Dotty had taken her shopping and bought her some summer dresses, and had gotten her hair done. With her new clothes and her hair done up, she almost looked like Dotty’s taller twin.
This did not go unnoticed by Del Bartolo. He sat beside her, fawning over her in a way that reminded me of how James was when he first met Melissa. James had fought hard to win Melissa’s approval but in this case, Connie appeared to surrender to Del’s charms almost immediately. Despite a 9-year age difference, there was no mistaking the sparks flying between the two.
While I was glad to see my young sister-in-law finally start to lighten up, I realized that if things happened between her and Del it might really mess up the plans to get him into Harvard. I mean, If I’d met Laura before getting my degree in architecture, who knows where I’d be? Then a little voice in my head whispered, ‘Yeah, but you’d be with Laura, so would it really matter?‘ THAT was logic that I couldn’t argue with. Damn it!
Meanwhile, Pearl was being very attentive to David; I was proud of her for being sympathetic and kind, like her mother. In retrospect, it was my dad-blindness seeing her as my sweet little girl, instead of the woman she’d grown into.
++++++++++
June – Luther, Oklahoma: Run For Cover
Except when he was with his Dotty or his children, Walter was always stone faced. I guess 30 years of being a bodyguard had groomed him for stoicism, so other people couldn’t read him. No matter what the situation, he looked like he’d fit right in on Mount Rushmore. Even when facing down the gang of meth-heads, he’d remained unemotional until he lost it and almost killed Dotty’s ex, Sonny. Not today, though.
The foundation had been laid on the new unit next to his farmhouse; we were going over the blueprints when a large 1974 Cadillac Fleetwood 75 – the biggest regular production car ever built at 21 feet long, in case you’re interested – rolled slowly up his driveway. Upon seeing the car, for the first time ever I saw concern on his face.
Without looking at me, he growled, “Tom, get your ass inside. That’s Eddie Giancarlo, and he’s here for me. You don’t want no fuckin’ part of this.”
I snapped back, “Fat chance, Walter. We faced down Sonny Harmon together, no way I’m leaving you now.”
Pulling the Raging Bull.454 out of his shoulder holster, Walter gave an exasperated sigh. “We been partners for a while, Tom, and I gotta say there are still some days when you really piss me off.”
“Sorry, buddy. Somebody has to take care of you,” I quipped. Given Walter was heavily armed and outweighed me by at least 70 pounds or so, my statement was laughable in retrospect — hilarious, in fact. But this looked serious; Walter wasn’t laughing, so I was sticking by him come hell or high water.
The man got out of the big Cadillac and walked up to Walter, holding his hands high in the air. In his black suit and Ray-Ban sunglasses, he was dressed like a funeral director on vacation. He stood as tall as Walter, but his body was rail-thin. Seeing his dark slicked-back hair had silver streaks running through it, I realized he was not a young man.
His voice was a deep baritone. “I’m not here on business Walter. I’m unarmed.” Walter nodded, and eased the big hand gun back in the shoulder holster.
Walter nodded, “You look good for an old fart, Eddie.”
The thin man nodded back, and replied, “And you look pretty good for a retired fat fuck. That wife of yours must take good care of you.”
“Yeah, that she does. She’s the best, like your Rosie was. My condolences, she was always a sweet woman.”
Eddie nodded, and looked at the ground. “Thanks. Fuckin’ cancer, man, there was nothing the doctors could do.”
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Walter asked him, “So what brings you here, Eddie? Mr. Bartolo retired me, I ain’t running with your crew no more.”
Eddie grimaced, like the bearer of bad news that he was. “I come to warn you that Sal Junior’s got a hard-on for you after you scared off his dipshit flunky Jerry Mindo. Also, somebody spilled the beans to Junior about his twin half-brothers. He wants them dead, and you along with ’em.”
His face still expressionless, Walter asked, “Does he know where I am?”
Eddie nodded, “Yeah, after you was in the news for taking out that meth-head, he got a general idea. Now that he knows you got the boys, he’ll be sending people for you.”
Walter shrugged, as if Eddie just told him water was wet. “I figured as much, but if that’s the case, Eddie, I gotta ask, why ain’t I dead already? You’re the best there is. Didn’t Sal Jr. send you?”
Eddie spit on the ground in disgust. “Fuck Junior, he’s a moron, treating me like I’m a useless old relic. He keeps me around, but treats me like a fucking errand boy. Sends me to get his laundry and do his cash pickups like some punk-ass bitch, just to humiliate me. Anyway, even if he did send me, I don’t know if I could do it.”
Eddie shook his head regretfully. “Them two boys is good boys, Walter, and Quiet Sal was always good to me. No way I’d harm a hair on their heads. As for you, I ain’t forgotten you saved my life. Me coming today to warn you, I’ve returned the favor. Now we can call it even.”
Walter extended his hand, and the tall man shook it. “Just so you know, Walter, since Junior took over, he’s done a real good job of pissing off some friends of ours in Chicago. Things get bad, you could always ask them for help.”