Romeo of the Streets (6 page)

The next morning I was there at the hospital bright and early to see Gino wake up and, just like Romeo had said, I was well-rested and thinking clearly enough to face the uncomfortable conversation that awaited me once the initial pleasantries were out of the way. (I had to hand it to Mancini, if I
had
stayed there all night like I’d wanted to I would have been a zombie by now, while Gino slept like a bonny Italian babe all through the night. I guess Lou’s new friend must have had a lot of experience hanging around hospitals at a time when all decent folk should be in bed and, truthfully, I couldn’t figure out why that alarming fact seemed almost attractive to me now, rather than repellant.)

“Ok Miss Guilianno, you can see him now,” the nurse said and opened the door to Gino’s room to allow me to enter.

“Thank you,” I smiled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyelids from behind my glasses as I stood up. “How is he?”

“See for yourself,” she smiled and I stepped tentatively into the room.

The room was lit by three big windows, through which the bright early-morning sun shone in a way that caused the clinically-white walls and floor to almost sparkle in reflection. Gino was in the second bed from the far wall, sitting up with a tray placed over him with his breakfast on it. In his gown he looked impossibly frail, but his face when he turned to greet me, thankfully, was as lively and animated as it ever was.

“Sandra, my girl!” he said, “my savior, no?”

Don’t get me wrong, I was delighted to see him smiling, but considering the gravity of the situation I couldn’t help but feel a little surprised at his good cheer. Sometimes it seemed like all the men in my life lived their own ones almost entirely free from responsibility, while I, with each new mistake they made, took on more and more every day.

“Well,” I smiled, “Romeo was the savior. I just found you. He was the one who saved us.”

“Romeo, eh?” Gino nodded, a crafty twinkle entering his eye, “Lou’s friend? The tough guy? Well I’ll have to thank him, but maybe you can do it for me—you’ll be seeing him first, no?”

“I don’t know Gino,” I said, trying to brush him off, “he’s
Lou’s
friend.” I knew exactly what the old coot was getting at and I wasn’t having any of it. It was bad enough not knowing how I felt inside myself, without other people pushing him on me on the outside too.

“Eh,” Gino shrugged, “you young ones act like you’ll have forever to make up your mind about these things. You never realize what you stand to miss by waiting too long. Trust me Sandra, I know…”

I stared at him closely, a mixture of love and frustration welling up in my chest. “Oh yeah? Is that what happened with the insurance then? You meant to get it organized but you just
waited
too long?”

Gino peered back at me, his rheumy old eyes watery with sadness. “No,” he said, “no, that was just plain old stupidity. You think I would have learned by now, eh?”

Neither of us said anything. I reached up to the bed and took his frail wrist in my hand.

“You know,” he said, “it used to be you no need insurance. Not where we’re from Sandra—the
neighborhood
would look out for you.”

Instinctively, my hand went limp and his wrist dropped softly back into his lap. Did he mean what I thought he meant by “neighborhood”? What would he say if he found out about Lou’s offer? What would he think if he knew that Lou himself was now fixing to get sucked into that “neighborhood”—the one that chewed up headstrong young men like him and spat them out again like they were nothing but fresh meat from the slaughterhouse? How very neighborly that was.

“Now though,” Gino shrugged, “now they don’t care no more about the little guy. Now, we’re on our own.”

“No,” I said, “we’re not on our own Gino. We have each other.”

Ok, even to me the words sounded a little empty in light of the overwhelming financial difficulties that now faced us, so I didn’t take it too harshly when Gino barely even pretended to be cheered by the statement at all.

“You are sweet to say Sandra,” he said, “such a special girl. This Romeo, eh? I only hope that he lives up to his name for you…”

Despite myself, I smiled. I was suddenly reminded of that old Johnny Cash song, “
A Boy Named Sue
”, about the cowboy who becomes the toughest son of a bitch in the west all because his daddy gave him a girl’s name knowing that he’d have to fight all the other cowboys who made fun of him for it growing up. I couldn’t help but wonder if Romeo’s early days had had a similar trajectory because of
his
romanticized name and I found myself laughing at the thought of it. I guess they call that irony.

“He’s Louie’s friend,” Gino said, “and yet you smile just when I say his name, eh?” The old man grinned at me, that crafty glint back in his eye.

“Come on Gino,” I said, “this is serious. What are we going to do?”

“We, Sandra?” Gino asked, “Me, you mean. You’ve done enough.”

I sighed. “Please Gino, quit fooling around. Whatever about the fact that you’re practically a father to me, I’m just as dependent on the café for my livelihood as you are…”

Gino frowned, emitting a slow, sad sigh from his wrinkled lips, and my heart sank in my chest. So it was true then, he
was
considering selling the café, the establishment that he had inherited from his father and his father’s father, the one that had been a landmark of the Orange Grove for nearly a hundred years before us.

“Haven’t you got any money put aside for emergencies?” I asked him.

All he did was shake his head and he looked so desperately sad in that moment that I almost told him about Lou’s offer right there and then—I almost had to literally bite my tongue to remind myself of how stupid that would be. Gino, while fatherly, had now clearly proven himself once and for all to be totally irresponsible, and he would probably say yes in an instant to my brother’s dangerous offer. And what then? I wasn’t even sure that Lou actually
could
pay for it—without hitting up some Mafia loanshark or something—and then we’d all be totally screwed.

As if somehow reading all this on my face, Gino nodded slightly and then reached out and took my hand in both of his. “Whatever happens,” he said, “it will be ok. We will be ok.”

I smiled back at him, only with my mouth, and nodded. If only I could believe that Gino, I thought, if only I could believe that.

I had class that day and though I happily would have missed out to be with Gino, he insisted that I get my butt back to CCU and hit the books. Now of all times my studies would be important, he said, and I would have agreed if part of me didn’t have this sinking feeling deep inside that maybe my studies actually
weren’t
that important at all anymore—not now that they might be jeopardized entirely anyway.

Nonetheless, I did as he asked, promising to call back that evening, and took a bus up town to the CCU campus. As I sat leaning against the window, scanning over my economics book, my phone buzzed with a text from Lisa.

“
MEETING LOU-BEAR FOR LUNCH AT 2.30
” it read, “
COME JOIN US PLZ! XXX P.S. ROMEO MIGHT BE THERE ;)
”

I stared at the phone. I could think of better ways to spend my lunch than watching my best friend and my brother make loved-up fools of themselves in front of the whole cafeteria—and why dear Lisa, for that matter, would I care if his hoodlum friend was also there to see the sickening display as well? I was about to click the phone closed again and get back to my books when it dawned on me that, regardless of whether I should or not, I
did
care. In fact the thought of seeing Romeo that day brought a warm flush to my cheeks and filled my belly with butterflies. That was why whatever I did, I had to stay as far away as possible from their company that day.

So anyway, at 14.35 that afternoon I walked into the crowded and noisy campus cafeteria and looked around me. When I spotted them I almost turned and walked right back out again—but just then Lisa looked up and her face broke into a smile. What the hell was I doing there, I wondered?

“Hey!” she waved, “I knew you’d make it. See Lou, I told you.”

My brother shrugged as I walked towards the two of them, all the while wondering where Romeo was and trying to hide my abject disappointment that he was nowhere to be seen.

“Well one out of two ain’t bad,” Lisa said, “maybe you should tell that friend of yours to get his act together.”

“Oh come on baby,” Lou protested, “she’s my sister, for Christ’ sake. I don’t want to set her up with
anybody
.” He looked up to me as I joined them at the table and smiled. “Hey sis, sorry to disappoint you, but Romeo ain’t here.”

“Shut up donkey-breath,” I frowned, pulling a face, and then sat down across from them.

“You know Valentine’s Day’s coming up, right Sandy?” Lisa said, letting the question hang in the air for a moment.

“Yeah,” I replied, “so what?”

Lisa and Lou exchanged a glance, obviously getting the message, and then Lou changed the subject.

“So you decide to let us help you with Gino yet?” he asked, innocently popping a breadstick into his mouth.

“Jesus, Lou, I’ve only just sat down and you’re onto this already? Do you want me to just leave again? I already told you no.” To be honest, I almost would have preferred to stay on the subject of romance—and that was something I
really
didn’t want to talk about right then, at least not with those guys.

Lou shrugged, “well hell, it ain’t like it’s your decision now that Gino’s woken up anyway, is it?”

So he knew that Gino was awake, did that mean he’d been talking to him today too? Oh crap, I thought, don’t tell me he’s said something to him… With a sickening feeling I realized why Gino had looked at me so funnily that morning—Lou had probably already made the offer…

“Lou went back to the hospital after he dropped you off last night,” Lisa said, “he stayed there all night in case anything happened. He went home again and got some sleep after Gino woke up at 5.30 this morning.”

“Yeah,” Lou said, “but first we talked some stuff over.”

I felt the color drain from my face. I was overwhelmed, both with gratitude for Lou for going back to the hospital to watch over Gino, and with horror to think that between them, the two most important men in my life may have just signed a contract in their own blood with the devil himself.

My voice was small when I spoke and I got straight to the point. “What did he say?”

Lou smiled. “What did he say? He told me to ask you, Sandy.”

I blinked slowly. “He what?”

“He said the café was as much yours as it is his now. He has nobody to pass it on to after he’s gone, you know that. If you ask me he’ll probably leave it to you in his will, if he still has it by then that is. So here’s the deal, either he has to sell it on to pay his hospital bill and then, I don’t know, waste away in his apartment for the last few years of his life or something while you go find a job somewhere else, or—and believe me when I say this Sandy, I can make this happen without any trouble at all now—you let me and Romeo cover the bills, a loan that Gino will pay back, and you keep the café open part-time until he’s ready to go back to work.”

Lou and Lisa stared at me, their eyes wide as they waited for my answer. I kept my arms folded tightly across my chest. “A loan?” I asked.

“That’s right, a loan,” Lou nodded.

“And what if he can’t pay you back? What are you going to do, break his arms to go with his legs? And what kind of interest are you putting on it by the way, fifty percent, one hundred?
Two hundred
?”

Lou shook his shaved head vehemently. “Jesus Sandy,” he grunted, “Gino’s
family
, cut me some slack here. There is no vig—no interest. He pays us back when he can, sets up something with his bank account maybe, and if he misses a payment, no biggie, he can just get us back the next month after that…”

I thought about the alternative, about Gino giving up the café that his own grandfather had founded decades ago. It was all he had left in the world, besides me and Lou that was. And ok, there was no way I would let him waste away in his apartment, I’d visit him every day of course, but how could I face him knowing that at the end of the day it was my decision that had cost him his livelihood?

I bit my lip, eyes downturned to my lap as I thought it over. “It sounds like you’re making me an offer I can’t refuse here,” I said.

“No,” Lou said, “you can do whatever you want. That’s what Gino said, right? Just think very carefully about what effect you’ll be having before you do.”

“Tell her about the other thing,” Lisa said, nudging Lou in the ribs.

“Oh boy,” I said, “there’s more? What now?”

“Ok,” Lou said, leaning forward, his expression serious again, “so whatever happens, the café’s going to have to stay closed for a little while right? That means you’re going to be hard up for cash on top of everything else…”

“I’m not taking your money Lou,” I said, “whatever about Gino,
I’m
not taking your money.”

Lou smiled. “Yeah, no shit,” he said, “damn Sandy, you’re the most stubborn person I know—if you weren’t such a straight-edge I’d be glad to have you at my back out there.”

“Get to the point Lou.”

Lisa sat forward and blurted: “Let me move in with you. If you want me to that is...”

I stared at her for a moment. “But I thought you were going to move in with Lou, Lisa?”

“We can wait,” Lou said, “let Lisa move into your spare room, just for a month or two to take care of the rent.”

“I’m not a charity case guys,” I said, “and besides that room belongs to Rebecca.”

Rebecca was my roommate—away for three months on exchange in Italy. She’d said it was ok if I gave the room up while she was gone but I’d opted to leave it empty, since up until now I’d been able to afford it and I enjoyed the extra space. But now… Well they were right. Without my paycheck from the café, I would be behind on rent in no time.

“Hey Sandra,” Lisa said gruffly, her face contorting in a mock hard-ass sneer, “this time,
it’s
me
who’s
making you an offer you can’t refuse.”