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Authors: Suzanne Corso

Brooklyn Story (25 page)

BOOK: Brooklyn Story
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“Ya take a rest and I'll make ya the best damned refried rigatonis youse ever ate. Mom's recipe,” Tony said. I flinched at the mention of his mother as he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

My mind drifted while Tony cooked. So I was no longer a virgin, I thought. It had to happen sooner or later, and why not with a guy who put me on a pedestal? I felt like I had finally matured and that made me think about growing up with my mom and grandmother. Would they know? I asked myself. I decided I'd have to get home after they went to sleep so they wouldn't see me walking funny.

My vagina was just so sore. Could he have been gentler? I wondered. I'd check with Janice, but I didn't remember her complaining about when she had been deflowered. Maybe I'm different that way, too, I said to myself, and I got up to dress. I rummaged around for my panties, put on my skirt, and had to tie my blouse because some buttons were missing. I'll be sewing these back on, I said to myself. No way Grandma is going to see this blouse, I vowed.

Tony turned toward me when I joined him in the kitchen. “You'll always be my little virgin,” he said, and then returned his attention to the stove. He looked so funny, shirtless and cooking, dressed only in a towel. I laughed to myself as Tony went on. “If anybody so much as thinks about ya wrong, I swear he'll pay.” There was nothing funny about that, I
thought. “Hope ya like rigatonis,” Tony said over his shoulder. “It's my favorite pasta.”

I sighed and went into the living room to wait. Angel hair was my favorite, oh well. I wondered how long I would really be his “little virgin” now.

On New Year's Eve, I checked myself in my bedroom mirror. I could have worn something that Tony had bought for me, but instead I straightened the skirt of the dress that Grandma had altered for me just for the occasion. We might not have had enough money to buy something off the rack, but Grandma was a whiz with the sewing machine and she had transformed my old, dowdy black sheath into an elegant little party dress with a fitted bodice. After I put on the pearl earrings and necklace that Grandma lent to me and the diamond and platinum bracelets Tony had given me, I felt that I looked sensational. I went to greet him when I heard his booming voice shortly after nine o'clock.

Tony was finishing a round of polite kisses and hugs as I entered the living room. He commented on how lovely my mother looked, gave chocolates to Grandma and a bottle of champagne to Mom as she stood stiffly, and then flattered the hell out of me. I couldn't have been more proud to be his girlfriend. I grabbed my coat and Tony escorted me out of the apartment with his arm affixed to my waist.

I was buoyant as he made a big show of treating me like a lady when he opened the car door for me, once again knowing that we were being watched from the window that overlooked
the street. But by the time we got to the corner, he was trying to get his hands under my dress. I shoved him away. “Stop it, Tone,” I said. “You only think about one thing.”

“Ya just look so damned hot, Sam, I can hardly control myself.” His advances, though crude, nonetheless flattered me and his rugged looks made me melt.

“You don't look so bad yourself,” I said. His white shirt was unbuttoned nearly to the waist and he was wearing an extra gold necklace over the others that were usually wrapped around his neck. “Looks like you got a new chain.”

Tony laughed. “Dem Coppos are still payin' off their debt,” he said. He reached under my dress again, but I shoved his hand away once more.

“I told ya to cut it out. I gotta stay neat and make a good impression on your mom,” I said. I looked at my wrist where Tony's Christmas present sparkled as we passed each street-light. “I still don't think I should be wearing this. You told me yourself it made your mom jealous.”

“Ya jus' keep it on. I need ta show it off. What the hell did I get it for?” Tony grunted. “Besides, my mom loves you.”

“I'm not that naive, Tony,” I said. “I could tell how she felt.”

“Well, she better get useta ya,” he said, “'cause I wan' ya wid me. She has ta like ya.” Tony squeezed the steering wheel. “I'll make her.”

I lowered my eyes. “I don't think it works that way, Tone.”

“It works like I say it will. Just hold that wrist out when ya meet people—like this.” Tony thrust his wrist close to my eyes and laughed.

I shoved it away as I chuckled. “I don't want to blind anybody,” I said. “Especially your mother.”

“My mom is a good ol' girl. Ya just need to learn how ta manage her,” Tony said as he pulled up to his house. “C'mon. Watch what I do.”

The party was in full swing in the living room when Tony
and I arrived, and he made a big show of hugging his mother. Unfortunately, I had been right about the bracelet. After a fast greeting, Pamela glared at the diamond heart that glinted on my wrist. She said nothing more and walked away.

I did my best to avoid the hostess of the party, the mother of my steady boyfriend who was as jealous as if she were his girlfriend herself. It was very uncomfortable to be around that woman, but I convinced myself I had to adjust.

Katrina pouted when she saw me, said a fast hello, and then walked away just as her mother had done. I saw her sneak a beer and head for the rear hall but I didn't bother telling anyone. If the alcohol would change her nasty expression and her negative attitude, I was all for it, but I doubted that the drink would make a bit of difference.

I sipped from a champagne flute and Tony introduced me to his aunt Tessie and Uncle Nicky, Philip Kroon's brother, and I met close family friends such as Gilda and Mikey Coravano. Tony told me to mingle while he made a phone call.

The only person I didn't approach was a beautiful young woman with long legs and blond hair who never got up from the stuffed leather armchair in the center of the room, as if she were holding court. Her looks were striking and I watched as people came and went, bringing her food and drink. She just looked so damned self-assured, as if she couldn't care less who else was there as long as they hovered over her.

“Didya meet everybody?” Tony asked me when he came back.

“I think so,” I said. I cast a glance in the blond woman's direction. “Mostly.”

“Good,” Tony said. “You're makin' a big splash, Sam. They all love ya, I just know it. Make sure they see the bracelet. Ya know, flash it around.”

“Sure, Tony, whatever you say.” Tony took my empty flute. “Let me freshen up your glass,” he said, and headed for the bar. He stopped on the way to kiss the blond woman on her cheek.
She looked up at him with heavy eyelids and smiled, and her hand lingered on his arm when he walked away. Who the hell was she? I wondered.

I scanned the room but Janice and Richie hadn't arrived yet. Vin and Richie worked the stereo equipment and Frankie Valli sang out,

No woman's worth crawling on the earth
Just walk like a man, my son

Someone tapped my arm and grabbed my elbow. I turned and saw Pamela Kroon next to me. “Hi, S-a-a-am,” she said. A few drinks must have improved her friendliness, I thought.

“Great party, Pamela,” I said. “It's nice to be here.”

Pamela took a healthy sip from her glass. “Where elsh wouldya be? After all, we're almost related.” She looked down at my empty hands. “Go get s-shumethin' ta drink,” she said.

“Tony's getting me one,” I answered.

“Isn't my Tony s-sumthin'?” she gushed.

I looked around for him but he was still out of the room. “He's the best,” I said. My eyes rested again on the seated blond.

“She's s-sum beauty, huh?” Pamela asked.

“Yes, she is. Who is she?” I asked, but regretted showing interest in her.

“Oh, no one,” Pamela said with a glint in her eye. “Jus' an ol' frien' a Tony's.” She scooted away as Tony returned with a Long Island iced tea for me. I thought I shouldn't mix drinks but I didn't say anything.

“Ya know sumthin', Sam?” Tony asked. “You're so beautiful, ya make me want to throw ya down right here and have my way with ya.”

“Not with all these people here!” I giggled.

“Yeah, they might get in the way,” he cracked, his face flushed.

“I'm thinking they might not like it,” I said. “Your mother sure wouldn't.”

“And I'm thinkin' I don't give a fuck,” Tony said. He pulled me close and gulped his highball. “I gotta go talk ta Vin. Mingle some more, okay? Everybody here loves ya,” Tony said once more, and then slipped away. I knew that wasn't true no matter how many times he said it, and wished he would just stay with me. I wandered over to Aunt Tessie, who had an inviting manner.

“Hello, Samantha,” Tessie called out with a warm smile as I approached. “What a beautiful dress!”

“It was specially designed,” I said.

“I can tell,” Tessie said.

“You look real nice, too,” I said.

Tessie chuckled. “This old thing? I wear it every year.” She leaned in close to me. “I really come for the food,” Tessie whispered. “Have you tried the crab balls? They're ta die for.”

“Everything's great,” I said, and my eyes returned to the blond on display in the center of the room. She flipped her luxurious hair back from her face.

“That's Rochelle,” Aunt Tessie said. “Damned pity, isn't it?”

“What?” I asked. I couldn't imagine why that girl should be pitied.

“You didn't hear about the car accident? She's so young. What a shame. She was something before it happened. But you could hardly blame Tony for not wanting to be with her anymore. He's so strong and virile. He needs someone who can keep up with him, the little egotistical bastard that he is.” Tessie winked. “You should know, right?” I was shocked. Did all their family members speak about one another in that manner? I wondered. I smiled but was confused about Rochelle. She used to be Tony's girlfriend? Why hadn't he mentioned that? And why would she be there, anyway? “Nice of the family to still include her, after what he did to her, don't you think?” Tessie asked.

I was shocked by her response but wouldn't dare pry further. It was obvious this girl being here was Tony's penance. “After all, this was the only way she would stop the nasty lawsuit and drag them all through the mud,” Tessie laughed. I didn't even want to know; besides, I had a different opinion about that, but nodded anyway. I watched Rochelle smile at Vin, who handed her a plate of hors d'oeuvres that he had brought to her. When she shifted her position to take the food, I saw the ends of heavy metal braces on her legs that had been hidden under her long plaid skirt. She was what young, callous locals called a gimp. My annoyance and simmering anger about Tony's beautiful former girlfriend being there were replaced by the pity that Aunt Tessie had mentioned.

Tony came out of the kitchen and joined Vin at Rochelle's side and tousled her hair. They bantered with her for a couple of minutes and then Tony walked over to me. “Lookit,” he said, “Vin and me are goin' outside for a few minutes.”

I nodded in Rochelle's direction. “Why didn't you tell me about her?”

“'Cause she's no one.”

Pity for her couldn't subdue a pang of jealousy. “It doesn't look that way to me,” I said.

“Fuhgeddaboud Rochelle. She's got nothin' to do with you.”

I screwed my eyes and my lips tightened. “That's not how I feel,” I said.

Tony twisted my arm with his massive hand and pulled me close to him. Everyone in the room looked at us. “I tol' ya never to air our stuff in public,” he grunted. “When I tell you to forget sumthin', I expect ya ta fuhgedit.” His voice rose. “Now get outta my face!” he said, and slapped me with the back of his hand. My jaw dropped and I gasped for air. I thought my teeth had come out of my mouth. All around me felt surreal.
Pamela couldn't hold back a grin. It seemed as though she had been counting the moments and knew it was bound to happen. Tony nodded at Vin and they stopped at the bar to grab beers before going out the back door.

I ran to the bathroom.

I glared with disbelief at my red cheek in the mirror and then heard a knock at the door. “Samantha, please let me in, honey.” I recognized Aunt Tessie's voice. I opened the door and saw her standing there, shaking her head. She came into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. “Let me see,” she said as she turned my chin toward her. “It ain't so bad, is it,” she said.

“How could he do this to me?” I sobbed. “That son of a bitch!”

“Better not let him hear ya say that,” Tessie warned. She sat on the closed toilet seat.

I stood over the sink, looking at my face. “Are you saying he had the right to do that to me?”

“Of course not, Sam. No one has the right to hit anybody, but that doesn't mean he won't. There are ways to make sure these things don't happen. Like never start stuff in front of anyone.”

BOOK: Brooklyn Story
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