Odd Jobs (34 page)

Businesses throughout the area are looking for product to no avail. Kosher delis in Brooklyn are looking for pastrami, hot dogs and tongue, department stores in Ohio are depleted of cowboy boot inventory and dairy cases wait for Moon Beam Cheeses from Industrial Road. Phones are ringing unanswered, TV crews are sending coverage and politicians are saying they will intervene in this mysterious labor crisis. I ask Sev how long we have until Balducci knows he and I are involved.

“He knows by now. He probably cut someone’s fingers off by now to find out. But make no mistake; he knows by now.”

The thought of some innocent guy getting his fingers cut off because of our plan bothers me and makes me feel a little queasy. I keep reminding myself that this has to be done. I rationalize to myself that whoever got his fingers cut off may have gotten something else cut off eventually if we didn’t fight back now.

My cell phone rings and the caller ID
reads Balducci. Jimmy. I show the phone to Sev and he doesn’t react. By the fourth ring he says, “Might as well answer it.”

“Hello,” I say. I hold the phone up in the air so Sev can hear as well.

Balducci screams, “You little prick! Are you going to play fucking games with me? With me! You going to fuck with Jimmy Balducci, you little shit? I saved your ass when Zog was suffocating you. I looked after you all those years at Remington Academy. I made my home open to you. My home! C’mon, say it to me. Let me hear it with my own ears that you are doing this to me, you fuckin’ Judas.”

Sev wants me to hang up. He looks at me and makes a slashing motion across his throat. I shrug my shoulders, but Sev frantically slashes his throat with his finger. So while Balducci continues to spew venom, I snap my cell phone closed. While I have waited so long to put this in motion, hearing Balducci go at me like that rattles me. There is a knot tightening in my stomach. There’s no backing down now.

CHAPTER 26

Still shaking from Balducci’s rants, I get hold of Carey and tell him to drop everything and grab Loot and Rocky, then get my mother and take everyone someplace safe. I couldn’t get hold of Rocky at first but she finally texted me that she was leaving. That was a relief.

I need to get this party moving. “Sev, we’re four days deep into this job action. Let’s bring in Petro now.”

Sev is quietly eating his afternoon pancakes at our H.Q., the Astoria Diner. “Kids today, always in such a hurry.”

This guy is eating pancakes and I can hardly breathe. The knot in my stomach has grown to a full-blown roadblock. “Why wait when it’s working so well?”

“Kevin, you’re too fuckin’ jumpy. We have a siege going here. Things look good now, but this is where variables start to rear their ugly faces.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, keep some cards up your sleeve. If we’re doing this right, Balducci is going to panic. He will unload everything he has. And I want to know what he has before I deploy my resources. Right now, the ball is in his court. Let’s see the variables.”

“Sev, this is killing me sitting here.”

“So get the fuck out. Your jumpy ass isn’t doing anyone here any good.”

“Thanks a lot,” I mutter.

“I’m not saying anything to insult you. I’m pointing something out. You ain’t being productive here. Go out for a while.”

“Go where?”

“I don’t give a shit, but we got at least two more days of this labor action and I’m worried you’re going to boil over. I don’t want you to influence me to do something too soon, so go take a nature hike and come back tomorrow.”

My cell phone starts vibrating and while I’m relieved the caller ID doesn’t say Balducci, nothing could have prepared me for what it does read: C.W. I’m getting a call from C.W. Wellington. Holy shit! I was so wrapped up in my crap today, this could have been the first day I didn’t think of her, but here she is, calling me.

I flip open the cell phone and as naturally as possible under the circumstances I say, “Hello.”

The unmistakable and incredibly well-bred voice says, “Hello, stranger.”

I feign confusion and answer, “Who’s this?” Like I would ever not recognize that voice.

“It’s someone who is intimately connected to a washing machine in Nevis.”

I take a deep breath and try to maintain my composure. “It’s been a long time, C.W.”

“Too long, Kevin. I miss you. Sorry for calling you out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking about you more and more lately.”

I glance at Sev and he gives me a concerned look. I cover the phone and explain that I’m talking to an old girlfriend. He rolls his eyes and sticks a massive forkful of maple-drenched pancakes into his mouth. I stop covering the mouthpiece and say, “So, er, how are you?” Can you believe how fuckin’ smooth I am?

C.W. answers, “Things have been going well, but I was hoping we could speak soon. Are you ever in New York?”

“I’m here now,” I answer.

“Don’t you have finals?”

“Yeah, but I needed to come home for awhile,” I answer,

“Oh, me too. I can’t study at school, there are so many distractions. I’m locking myself up at home.” After a brief, awkward pause, C.W. continues. “Let’s take a break together. Could you meet me at Piping Rock?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

“Oh Kevin, it’s 80 degrees and sunny. Let’s have a Southside on the beach and catch up for a little while. Please? What harm would it do?”

I’m thinking to myself, what harm? Does she have any idea how much her shit hurts? Maybe I can meet her for a few drinks, “Let me check on something.” I cover up the phone and look at Sev who is 90 percent done vacuuming the pancakes into his mouth. “Do you think that I can...?”

“Kevin,” Sev interrupts, “get the fuck out of here. Go chase a little tail for a while. It’ll be good for you and I guarantee it will be good for me.”

I tell C.W. that I’ll meet her at the beach in an hour. The beach at Piping Rock Country Club. Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m meeting C.W. there again.

“Good. See you then, Kevin.”

I close the phone and give Sev one last chance to keep me here. He laughs and says, “Get the fuck out.” Then he adds, “I’m going to ask Curtis to have a guy or two trail you, so don’t get freaked out. You never know where Balducci’s guys might be.”

The beach at Piping Rock is rough with broken shells. The tide is rolling back, and a breeze coming off Long Island Sound cools the temperature to near perfect. I spot C.W. from 50 feet away. The warm weather has given her the opportunity to wear what I’m sure is a spanking-new sundress. I swear someone made that dress specifically with her in mind. It’s so her. It’s dark purple, not loud but tight and as sexy as hell. Shit, and those legs! Christ, her legs are so long and lean. The dress stops well above her knees, and I can’t believe that’s an accident.

I
lock into her green eyes. The 50 feet become 20 feet and then she’s here. Shit, she’s gotten better looking. I was hoping she got tagged with the freshman 15 but that’s not the case. She’s stunning. The breeze is whipping her hair around, and it looks as if it’s moving with a purpose of its own. “Hello, stranger.”

“I’m so happy you’re here, Kevin.” She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Now, I don’t mean to over-analyze anything, but she kisses me on the cheek and not my lips. Then again,
I
swear she keeps her mouth on my cheek an extra-long time.
I
don’t think I’m imagining that. How good she smells when she’s close to me! The Long Island Sound smells like salt and seaweed, yet when C.W. is near me, I smell a special sweetness. Not perfume, mind you, or is it? It’s not overbearing; I smell it just slightly over the scent of the beach. I don’t know if they can sell this in a bottle or if someone has to be born with it, but that’s what I smell.

C.W. shakes her head playfully. “Kevin, you want to walk along the beach for a little while?”

I nod. The beach is extra long because the tide is out. I take off my sneakers and she takes off her sandals. We begin walking on the area of the beach that’s on the cusp of dry and wet.

“Kevin, do you ever think about me?”

Do I ever think about her? Every fuckin’ day. “Yeah, sure, there are times I think about some of the stuff we used to do.” There is an awkward pause, our first. I guess I’m supposed to say something. “How’s your little sister?”

“Which one? Missy? She’s fine. Just the other day she admitted she was spying on us that night in Nevis on top of the washing machine.”

“No way!” I moan. I know I’m blushing. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell your father. Buster would have beat me with a stick.”

“She said it was tempting, but she kept it to herself. She knew Daddy would explode. Luckily she idolized me at the time.”

We continue our walk along the beach and make small talk. It feels good remembering that brief time when I was happy. C.W. stops walking and asks bluntly, “Kevin, are you seeing anyone now?”

I pause, take a breath and say, “Yeah, I am.”

“Of course you are. You’re the most real person I know, and that’s why I’ve been thinking about you lately. Some girl realized how great you are while I was too caught up in what wasn’t important. There are so many jerks and pretenders around, just the opposite of you. You never played games.”

I don’t know how to respond to this but I try. “Wow, it looks like you’re coming off a tough relationship. Did somebody hurt you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just seem to put myself in a position to be around people who want to out-impress the next person. No one’s satisfied, no one’s rooting for anyone else, no one’s nice and no one’s real. We insulate ourselves with private schools, private summer camp, and then we go to these liberal arts colleges and we meet the same damn kind of people. And I keep thinking of the one person I think is real.”

“I don’t know, C.W., you might be romanticizing my background. Believe me, growing up in Hempstead and working through college hasn’t been easy. I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

“Maybe, but at the end of the day, you value a person for who they are, not all this bullshit of what Wall Street firm he’s working for or which celebrity he hung out with at which club. If you find a really great person who’s not affected by that garbage, you should hold on. You should hold on to him and never let go.” C.W. looks intently at my eyes. Those bold green eyes. She slips her hands around my neck, rests her forearms on my shoulders and says, “Please, Kevin, tell me it’s not too late.”

I shouldn’t pause, but I do. Then I say the right thing: “It is too late.” But I shouldn’t have paused. When things were good with C.W. and me, they were awesome. It hurt when she moved on, but people do.

“Kevin, just remember what we had and think about what we could have.” With that she moves into me and initiates a passionate kiss. My senses are ambushed, then overwhelmed. Her beautiful skin, her silky smell and the most sensuous mouth imaginable are all ganging up on me. Just when I am about to lose control I remember Rocky’s amber hair and the sexy valley that runs up her back. But what if I just did this once, you know, to get C.W. out of my system? What’s the harm in that? The harm in that is Rocky finally has gotten to trust someone and I’m going to fuck that up. Holy shit, what is wrong with me?

I pull away from C.W. and say sternly, “Look, I can’t do this.”

She moves closer, gently smiles and says, “Yes, you can. I think if you give this a shot you might enjoy it.”

“It’s not that. I’m not looking to enjoy it. I can’t do this.” I can’t imagine anyone has ever said no to C.W. It seems impossible.

But C.W. is persistent. She moves closer and says, “We were born to be together. You know it and I know it.”