Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are (6 page)

Casino owner
Reno Gabrini ended his cellphone call when he saw his cousin enter the
restaurant and head for his table.
 
And
just looking at him made him smile.
 
Because Sal would always be Sal, he thought, as he watched Sal strut
into the restaurant decked down in his double-breasted suit and jewelry,
looking like the mob boss he was purported to be although he’d deny it to his
dying day.
 
Reno knew Sal had east coast
operations, substantial ones, but he never knew just how deep his power ran.
 
And given Sal’s penchant for keeping it all
undercover, he probably never would.

Sal sat
across from Reno at the table.
 
“They
aren’t here yet?” he asked.

“Not yet,
no,” Reno said, still smiling.
 
“You’ve
got mob written all over you.
 
You know
that, Sal?”

“What mob?”
Sal asked as if he was shocked.
 
“I’m a
legitimate businessman over here.”

Reno
smiled.
 
“Yeah, sure.
 
And I’m Mary fucking Poppins.”

Sal
laughed.
 
“You aren’t so innocent
yourself,” he pointed out.
 
“You
inherited your old man’s territory.
 
If
I’m a boss, what does that make you?”

“By the time
my old man died his territory was about as weak as your sense of style,” Reno
responded.
 
“There was nothing to
inherit.”

“Yeah,
right.”

“Fuck you,
Sal.”

“Fuck you,
Reno.”

Reno
smiled.
 
They’d be lost without their
banter.
 
“Trina tells me Gemma’s law firm
was vandalized yesterday.
 
What was that
about?”

“One of her
ex-clients did the job.”

“You found
his ass?”

“I found
him.”

“You took
care of his ass?”

“What you
think?
 
Yeah, I took care of his ass.”

“So what
gives?
 
Did he say why he did it?”

“Money,” Sal
said.
 
“But it was a blind payoff.
 
He doesn’t know who hired him and I don’t
know either.
 
But my men are working on
it.
 
I’ll find out.”

“Need any
manpower from my crew?”

“No, I’ve
got it covered.
 
But thanks.”

“No
problem,” Reno said.
 
And then he leaned
forward.
 
“I wanted to talk to you before
the girls got here anyway,” he said.

Sal looked
at his cousin warily.
 
Not that he didn’t
trust Reno.
 
He trusted Reno with his
life.
 
But every time Reno wanted to talk
to Sal, it ended up being about some bullshit error he made, or some boundary
he didn’t realize he’d overstepped.
 
“So
talk,” Sal said.

“Why you got
to say it like that?” Reno asked.

“Like what?”

Reno gave
up.

“And what do
you mean about my weak sense of style?” Sal asked as he noticed Reno’s
clothing.
 
Like himself, Reno wore only
the finest imported suits.
 
But unlike
himself, Reno wore his badly.
 
It was
only midday and already Reno’s suit looked like it was something he picked up
from a swap meet.
 
“You look like you
slept in that suit,” Sal added.

“That’s
because I’m a hardworking man.
 
Unlike
you, I’m no fucking mob boss.
 
I don’t
have flunkies doing everything for me.
 
I
have to do it for myself.”

“Yeah, sure,
Reno.
 
You’ve got a staff of thousands at
the PaLargio.
 
I think I’ll withhold my
contribution to your poverty fund today.”

Reno
smiled.
 
And then got serious.
 
“Trina thought it would be a good idea if I
gave you a few pointers,” he said.

Sal was
stumped.
 
“You giving me pointers?
 
What the fuck you gonna give me pointers
about?”
 
Reno and Sal’s brother Tommy
were only a few years older than he was, but they sometimes treated him like he
was still a kid.

“Oh,
nice.
 
Nice attitude, Sal.”

“Okay, I
apologize.
 
I apologize, alright?
 
Just tell me what it’s about?”

“It’s about
fatherhood,” Reno said.
 
“It’s about
dealing with a pregnant wife.
 
That
shit.”

To Reno’s
surprise, Sal’s look of abject resistance began to fade.

“I know a
thing or two about all of those topics,” Reno said.

“And I don’t
know shit,” Sal added.

Reno
smiled.
 
“That’s what Trina seems to
think.”

“So what you
got to tell me?”

“What
semester is Gemma?” Reno asked.

Sal
frowned.
 
“What semester?
 
She’s not in school.”

“Don’t you
know anything, Sal?
 
There’s three
semesters in every pregnancy.
 
Three
months each.
 
Each three-month group is
what you call a semester.”

“What is
this fucking school?” Sal asked.
 
“They
never told me anything about any semesters.”

“Well I’m
telling you about it.
 
There’s three.
 
The first semester is the most crucial
one.
 
Miscarriages can happen then.”

“I thought
they could happen anytime,” Sal said.

“They
can.
 
But it’s more crucial early on.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Have you
signed up for Lil’ Mars?”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What’s Lil’ Mars?
 
Out of space shit?”

Reno shook
his head.
 
“You’re hopeless, you know
that? Lil’ Mars are classes you have to take to learn how to breathe.”

“I already
know how to breathe.”

“Not you,
Sal! Gemma needs to learn.”

“Gemma
already knows how to breathe too.
 
Why
she need to take Mars classes if she already knows how to breathe?
 
And why are they calling it Mars like the
planet?”

“It’s Lil’
Mars,” Reno corrected him.
 
“Like little
Mars, not the big shit.
 
And I figure
it’s because having a baby is like out of this world.”

Sal shook
his head.
  
“That makes no sense,
Reno.
 
You don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

Reno
frowned.
 
“What do you know?
 
I know more than you.
 
Ever thought about reading a fucking book on
pregnancy, Sal?”

“Like I got
time to read a book!
 
Besides, I tried to
read plenty books on pregnancy.
 
They
write that shit like it’s in Japanese or something.
 
I couldn’t figure it out.
 
Everything I know my doctor tells me, so I’m
good.
 
I’m fine.”

“So you
think you know a lot?”

“I know I know
a lot,” Sal shot back.

“Okay, big
shot,” Reno said, folding his arms.
 
“What about contractions?
 
How you
gonna handle those?”

“What do you
mean handle them?”

“What are
you going to do, know-it-all,” Reno said, “when she has her Hicks whatever?”

Sal frowned.
 
“What hicks whatever?
 
What are you talking about, Reno?”

“Her
hicks.
 
Her whatayoucall Toni Braxton
Hicks.
 
Her contractions?”

 
Sal was lost.

“Yeah, you
know a lot alright.
 
A regular Einstein
sitting over here.”

“So how am I
supposed to handle these Toni Braxton whatevers?” Sal asked.
 
“And what does Toni Braxton have to do with
it?
 
I thought she was a singer.”

“Let me
school you, alright?” Reno said.
 
And
then launched into schooling Sal without waiting for a response.
 
“You have to know when her contractions are
normal, and when they’re saying the baby’s coming.
 
You have to go to those Lil’ Mazda classes,
so you can help Gem breathe right and stay calm when the baby comes.”

“I thought
it was Lil’ Mars classes,” Sal said.

“It is.”

“You said Lil’
Mazda classes.”

“I did not!”

“What the
fuck?
 
You did, Reno!
 
You said Lil’ Mazda classes.
 
Like the car!”

Now Reno was
lost.
 
“Like what car?
 
What the fuck are you talking about?”

Sal shook
his head.
 
He should have known better
taking “pointers” from Reno of all people.
 
“Whatever,” he said.

“What do you
mean whatever?” Reno asked.
 
“I haven’t
finished.”

“Yeah, what
else you got?”

“What else
you want to know?”

“Just tell
me what you know.”
 
Then Sal thought
about it.
 
“I have a question.”

“Finally he has
a question.
 
But that’s good.
 
What is it?”

“What about
making love?
 
How hard can I go at
it?
 
When do I have to stop?”

“That would
be your question,” Reno said.
 
“Nothing
about the baby.
 
Nothing about the
pregnancy.
 
You just want to know how
hard you can fuck her.”

“Just answer
the question,” Sal said.

Reno
exhaled.
 
“You can do it like you always
do it as long as she’s healthy and there’s no complications.
 
There are no limits.”

Sal
nodded.
 
“Yeah, that’s what the doctor
said.”

“I mean,”
Reno added, “you don’t want to kill the woman.
 
You don’t want to have her hanging from the ceiling upside down, no shit
like that.”

Sal laughed.

“But the
regular shit should be okay,” Reno said.

Sal
nodded.
 
“Finally you make some sense.”

“Fuck you.”

“What about the
baby?” Sal asked.
 
“When the baby gets
here, what do I do?
 
Maybe I can come
over one day and use Sophie as an example.”
 
Sophia was Reno’s youngest child.

But Reno
frowned.
 
“Use Sophie as an example of
what?”

“You
know?
 
How to put on a diaper and shit.
 
Maybe I can put on one of her diapers.”

“Diapers?
 
Are you nuts?
 
Sophie doesn’t wear diapers anymore!
 
What are you talking?”

“She
doesn’t?”

“No, she
doesn’t!
 
Babies get out of diapers when
they’re something like two months old or something.
 
Geez.
 
You don’t know anything, Sal!”

Sal ignored
Reno’s putdown.
 
He had too many
questions now.
 
“What about food?”
 
he asked.
 
“I know they suck on the tit, but that’s all they eat?”

“For the
first week that’s all they eat.
 
Milk
only.
 
They say breast milk is the best
milk.
 
But after that, something like two
weeks later, they start giving them what they call the baby food.
 
You know that mush in a bottle?”

“Yeah, I
seen it around Tommy’s house before.”

“Yeah,
that.
 
They give the babies the mush.”

“Then what?”
Sal asked.
 
“How long do they stay on the
mush?”

“For another
week,” Reno said.
 
“After that they can
eat anything they want.”

That didn’t
sound right to Sal.
 
“Anything?” he
asked.