Before Him Comes Me (30 page)

Read Before Him Comes Me Online

Authors: Alexandria Sure

BOOK: Before Him Comes Me
11.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Bonus
chapter from britt gaines

Contrive

copyright 2015

britt gaines

 

an excerpt chapter one

 

 

-Ding- Ding-…… Ding-Ding-

 

“Good afternoon ladies and
gentlemen.  If I can please have your attention, it is currently 1:15pm pacific
standard time. We will be taking off in a few minutes. The seat belt light has
been turned on and travel time to New York is 5 hours and 43 minutes.  It will
put us there roughly at 9:30pm. The weather is perfect so it should be smooth
sailing. Relax and enjoy your flight”

 

The captain’s words echoed
through my ears like a smoke alarm warning and reaffirming that I am on a
plane. I am a flier. I love to fly. I fly fucking everywhere with my job. I am
not a white knuckler. I don’t need to be sedated.  The seatbelt light pulses
that bright red glow mocking me, telling me what to do.  I have already
completed that assigned task. I did it the moment I sat down.  If not I might
have bolted from the plane.  I still can't believe I am going back to New York.
WHAT THE HELL!  I mean I can I have a great job, and an awesome apartment
awaiting me there. When I left over five years ago I said I would never step
foot back in that city. I would never walk those streets again.  The memories
some happy, and some painful formed in the concrete felt just as permanent in
my heart never freeing me from their grip.

 

I recline my first class
seat and smooth my hands down my black and silver DKNY velour track pants, I
zip up the jacket. Planes are always cold to me.  I grab the tall glass of the
mimosa, smelling the champagne. I take a healthy sip, ok more like a gulp. 
Yeah it’s early but I need this liquid courage to settle my nerves.  How
quickly my life has changed. I was a carefree successful business woman rocking
my career in graphic design, working for one of the most prestigious internet
companies in the world.  Living my life, and enjoying my life. Shopping and
feeding my addiction to designer labels with shoes being my current high. I
lost my mother to cancer and accepted a job in New York, packed up my life and
once again running from a place that holds sad memories.  Without my mother,
California was not my home anymore.  How did I not see the cancer progressing?
We knew it had come back. All the doctor’s visits were positive.  I was with
her almost every day but she hid it well.  My work at times was all consuming I
can see how I didn’t notice looking back now. I shake my head trying not to
feel the guilt of being un-aware of what was happening to her,  she didn’t look
sick not even the day she passed she still held that fire in her, still the
controlling woman she always had been. Then she dropped the bomb and the
carnage immense.  I am still reeling from the shrapnel she left embedded in my
heart.  Will I recover from this? I sure hope so, but without her I don’t know
how it will be possible. Even in death she continued to control my future.  I
sit back in my chair closing my eyes memories flooding my brain. I tilt the
glass to my lips saying a prayer to the gods of alcohol that this drink will
take the edge off, and as I drain the glass I realize I will need more than
this one. I have a 5 hour plane ride to lick my wounds that are now
hemorrhaging, and no amount of sutures will stop the bleeding.

 3 weeks ago……………………………

 

I flicked my phone watching
as it spins like a top on the deep dark walnut desk. It could be used as a
conference room table. It has to be at least four feet long and four feet wide with
a high gloss finish it is making the phone spin really fast. It is a simple distraction,
which is something I haven’t had in a few days. Well except for the occasional
emails from my new employer.  He is making sure I am still accepting his offer
and re-confirming my “orientation interview” in two weeks.  We have “confirmed”
twice already all the other emails have little to do with the job. They are
friendly and dare I say it we are becoming friends? Yes I can think that
because I feel like that is what we are doing. He seems to be a fun easy going
man, and he is gorgeous.  How do I know he is gorgeous? I looked him up on the
internet. He is the definition of the hot Italian guy my mother would have
loved.

 

To: Franky Jones

From: Frank Ryan

Subject: confirming

 

Franky,

 

Good morning, I was
reviewing your resume again.  I am very impressed with all of your
accomplishments.  Your professors at NYU sang your praises graduated number 2
in your class, and you had some pieces shown at the MOMA.  Then what you have
done at Google, Rick was not pleased to be losing you. My question is why did
you step away from the art to do computer programming?  I am glad you want to
revisit and use your education in the arts. 

I just wanted to touch
base with you to make sure we are still on Thursday the 28
th
at 4pm?,for
your orientation, sign all the necessary paperwork, and give you a tour of the
office.

 

Frank Ryan

CEO Maestro LLC

 

To: Frank Ryan

Fr: Franky Jones

Subject: why?

 

Good Morning to you
Frank. Thank you for the compliments. Yes I had some pieces shown years ago, it
was nerve racking to say the least, but a great moment in my life and I sold
them all.  To answer your question, I was interested in the process of how web
content is created, how art and other graphics are transformed using 0’s and
1’s.  It is a timely procedure but fascinating.

I am happy to being
going back to what I love which is art. It might be a different medium but
using that creative muscle again is exciting. 

 

Franky Jones

 

 

 

To: Franky Jones

From: Frank Ryan

Subject: moving

 

I would love to chat
with you about the more once you get here.  The programming aspect, I have a
team in place but they need some guidance and I think you could help them.

I know you said your
move was all set, but if you need any help let me know. Please.

 

Frank Ryan

CEO Maestro LLC

 

 

From: Franky Jones

To: Frank Ryan

Subject: thank you

 

My move is all set I
have my cousin Jenny coming in from Brooklyn to help me.  Thank you though.

Also I want to thank
you for this amazing opportunity.  I can't wait to get started and yes the 28
th
at 4pm works for me if you need to change it I am flexible.

 

Franky Jones

 

 

To: Franky Jones

From: Frank Ryan

Subject: you’re welcome

 

I am glad you’re
excited so am I.  Hopefully I will talk to you before then. I would love to put
a voice to the person. Have a nice day. I was also wondering if you would like
a tour guide. I can show you all the wonderful things that are New York, and can
our parents be anymore Italian. You are Francesca and I am Francesco? What is
it with them and names? I am sure you aren’t just Francesca Jones you probably
have three middle names? Right?

 

Frank Ryan

CEO Maestro LLC

 

To: Frank Ryan

From: Franky Jones

Subject: you’re funny….lol

 

Yes I feel the same way
about our names and it is comical. And yes I have two middle names Olivia Maria.
Shocker right, aren’t all Italian women named Maria?  You would give me a tour
of New York? It has been awhile since I have been in the city.  Take me to the
top of the Empire State building, then buy me a hot dog from the street vendor,
and buy me an (I heart) NY t-shirt?

A phone call would be
nice to put a voice to Frank Ryan.

 

Franky Jones

 

To: Franky Jones

From: Frank Ryan

Subject: I am so glad I
could make you laugh

 

I will do all of that
and more. Really nice to know I can put a smile on your face, you have no idea.
Have a nice day Franky and talk to you soon.

 

Frank Ryan

CEO Maestro LLC

 

 

I can't help the smile I
feel on my face. I could like that Frank Ryan.

 

The stewardess taps me on
my shoulder bringing me from my daydream “can I get you another drink?” I spy
the tray full of mimosas refraining myself from asking for two more.  I smile
up at her “Thank you” I take the offered glass. Her blue eyes sparkle and she
smiles “you have great style, I love the track suit. Its designer isn’t?” I
return her smile “it is DKNY” she nods “I love the black, the silver piping
along the legs is pretty, and the shoes are perfect” she chuckles I look down
at my silver converse all-stars or “chucks” and giggle. “Yeah I like to mix it
up” she smiles back “like I said I like your style.  Have a nice flight if you
need anything my name is Sharon” I smile up at her “thank you Sharon, probably
need another one of these soon’ she smiles and walks away.  I look down at the
glass in my hand seeing the definite line from where the orange juice and vodka
meet.  I glance at the ring on my middle finger.  My mother’s fire opal ring,
it used to be a bracelet but she turned it into a ring. The way the colors mix
in together as if flames of a fire. The pinks melting with the reds, white
encompasses the perimeter, specks of green scatter through the middle.  Guess
that’s why it’s called a fire opal. My mind wanders to all of things that were
hers, which are now mine. That trip to the lawyer’s office sent me for a
loop…….

 

I glance down at my phone
wondering where this guy is he is already 20 minutes late and I am starting to
get irritated. Just then he walks through the door an older man with salt and
pepper hair. Very Italian the strong roman nose prominent on his face. He
smiles exposing white slightly crooked teeth.  I stand to greet him but he says
“please Ms. Jones stay mi scusi (sorry) I apologize for being late”. He mumbles
a few curses in Italian.  I reposition myself in the well-worn brown leather
chair. It’s one of those high back chairs the kind you would see in the office
of an English professor’s office. It’s supple and strong. I sit up straighter
as he rounds the desk slowly sitting in a matching chair with a file in his
hands. He sets it down flexing his fingers over the top in a pulsating motion.
His expression is unreadable. I start to feel nervous and give my phone one
more spin catching it quickly. For when I look at him, really look at him he
looks so sad.  I think my mother and he were close. My heart constricts a
little for the both of us.  Exhaling audibly through his nose “I know you have
already dealt with your mother’s estate, she came to me about a few other
things, more personal matters. These are some documents your mother wanted you
to read after her passing.  She had reservations about sharing this with you
for fear, the shear fact of how you would react. Her main concern was to have
me help you understand.  She did all of this for your benefit, for your future.
She did everything out of love for you first and foremost.  I would like you to
know I advised her to tell you about your father sooner. I personally think it
was the easy way out, she wasn’t a coward but how she handled this was weak in
my mind.” My eyes flick to the file, what could possibly be in there? A sense
of dread washes over me.  It’s cold and stifling.  I feel like running. 
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, and then exhale slowly easing the anxiety. “Excuse
me I don’t understand? I am alone in this world. I have a great job. I make
money hand over fist” My voice rises as the pain churns “my future is secure
Mr. Abbatangelo! So I don’t know why I am here? I don’t know what else you have
to tell me?” He takes a breath then slides the file to me. I flip it open and
see my birth certificate. I pick it up and read. Mother: Dominica Maria Caprapini
Father: Francesco Alberto Caprapini. I look up from the paper my eyes filling
with tears. I have never seen my father’s name. I never heard his name come
from my mother’s lips, until that fateful moment. All she ever told me was that
he died. Which now I know is not true.  He is alive and well living in New York.
He knew about me but never came for me.  I don’t know why but I plan on finding
out once I am settled. Those were the last words out of her mouth. He was alive
and I should look him up.  I wanted to be mad at her for lying to me all these
years. I didn’t want the anger there in her room when she was taking her final
breath. I can remember the feel of her hand clinging to mine, the deep look of
sadness in her eyes. The guilt of her secret and the impact it would have on
me. I could see the fear of leaving. She wasn’t afraid of death. She was afraid
of not being there for me anymore. I swallowed hard and tried to push that
memory down with the rest. Fuck! Why did she have to die! Why didn’t she tell
me she was sicker than she really was so we could have spent more time
together! I would have taken a leave from my job to spend it with her to make more
memories. She always had to be in control. Always!  I fan my hands in front of
my face to stop the tears from falling.  I am not breaking down. I notice Mr.
Abbatangelo gets up from his desk, he places a plain cardboard box in front of
me.  I place the birth certificate back in the file and glance at the top of
the box, a small white label with my mother’s handwriting “Francesca.” He sits
back down in his chair.  Leaning on the desk with his elbows, his hands laced
together.  The look of sadness still in his eyes, he breathes “She wanted you
to have this box. She said it will answer any questions that you have about
your father. It ate at her for years, not telling you about him. She hoped this
would help bring you peace. You should go through this before you search him
out.” I push the box aside. I am stunned right now staring at the box.
Wondering what it holds? “Ok thank you” is all I say he nods. His eyes trained
on me, but still unreadable. I push the box aside and turn my attention back to
the file.  I flip the birth certificate over. Picking up another piece of
paper, it is a bank statement. With my name on it, my birth name. Not the name
I grew up with but for me I am Franky Jones.  I will always be Franky Jones. Not
this Caprapini person.  I read the statement it shows a balance of $250
thousand dollars. I shake my head wondering where this money came from, and the
anger bubbles. We lived so modestly as I was growing up, and she had this
money. I don’t understand that. I pick up the final piece of paper.  A deed to
an apartment at 15 Central Park West. I mumble “what the fuck?” I glance up at
him “sorry” he smiles the first real smile this morning “its fine I understand”
I look back at the deed, a three bedroom apartment, one bathroom on the 47
th
floor with a balcony. I shake my head this is surreal.  Central Park West is
the best fucking neighborhood in New York and I live there.  I look up at Mr.
Abbatangelo and say “what….it’s like she knew and prepared for this” I rest my
head in my hands rubbing my temples roughly.  I glance back up at him “she knew
didn’t she?” He nods I can see the pain in his eyes.  I suspect he was more
than just a lawyer to her he was a friend.  He sighed “yes she knew about 6
months ago that it was back and terminal. She only disclosed it to you a few
weeks ago. But that was her wish I am sorry. She had all of this set up for you,
the money, and the apartment.  They were all things your father provided for
her. He had always hoped you two would come back. Now that she is gone it’s all
yours” I take a deep breath wishing I had a shot of tequila right now  I need
to numb myself.  I guess everything happens for a reason. Now I know it wasn’t
quickly, she knew all along. I close my eyes I can still hear her say “take it
baby girl, have a good life. Please follow this. It is your dream what you went
to school for, what you worked so hard for and now as creative director, you
will be in charge and running things. This is your time baby girl” She was in
control, even in death, making this transition easy on me. Always looking out. 
But how is it going to be easy without her? I try to hold back the tears. I
look up and say “is there anything else?” he doesn’t say a word but shakes his
head and finally he says “no that is all” I take a deep breath and stand up  smoothing
down my slacks to wipe away the sweat from my hands and tucking in my blouse.  I
can see my heart pounding through the silk. I will myself to not breakdown now.
I slip my phone in my purse and pull it up onto my shoulder. I grab the box and
tuck it under my arm.  I stick my hand out “thank you very much for your help and
I am sure you did more than this. I appreciate it beyond measure. Please send
me the bill” as I look into his eyes he smiles.  I tilt my head “she took care
of that already didn’t she?” he nods with a small smile.  My breath catches in
the throat as a frightening thought creeps into my head “did she arrange for this
job to as well?” he looked at me puzzled “job?” I shake my head “never mind.  Thank
you again for your help, with everything” he sighs “it was a pleasure your
mother was a feisty woman and very determined to make it right. She was an
amazing soul I will dearly miss her” I see his eyes well up. Yeah they were
more than friends. I give into the warm smile that curves at my lips. My mother
was truly amazing.  She was my whole world. I know I get her stubbornness.
That’s why we butted heads so many times.  I nod “yeah she was always determined
or controlling is more like it” and then he chuckles “yes that would be your
mother, if there is anything else you need please do not hesitate to give me a
call” I smile “thank you again”

Other books

Like None Other by Caroline Linden
Monkeys Wearing Pants by Jon Waldrep
My Husband's Wife by Amanda Prowse
Rough in the Saddle by Jenika Snow
La calle de los sueños by Luca Di Fulvio
Eros by Helen Harper
No Time to Cry by Lurlene McDaniel
The Watercress Girls by Sheila Newberry