After a moment, the bathroom door opened, and Ivy walked through the door clutching her purse. Stunned, she stopped in the entrance as her eyes met Nicola’s. He stood up. Shocked. Embarrassed. Pulling at his suit vainly, he lifted his head and gave his best leisurely smile.
Ivy walked up to him only inches from his body and stood silently for a moment eyeing him carefully and sniffing the stench of the young drunk before she wrapped her arms around him warmly and hugged him. It had been the first hug anyone had given him throughout the entire ordeal, and he hoped it would be his last. It was utterly agonizing to bear, leaving him weak and vulnerable. Wanting to cry all over again, he substituted tears for a small, bottled up sigh.
Nicola stepped back finally and was able to get a good look at Ivy with her protruding stomach and long flowing locks pulled back in a soft ponytail. The small tendrils of hair that she left dandling on her sides flirted with her collarbone and the arm of her silk black sundress. Her soft lips were slightly glossed, her high cheek bones rosy, her caramel skin bare and resilient, her eyes shining bright and her long swan shaped neck decorated with a beautiful one carat diamond necklace that sat at the base of her throat.
“Oh, Nicola. How are you?” she asked looking around the corner for Grey. It was shame she had to watch the way she behaved with Nicola at a time like this when she was sure that he needed her most.
“I’m fine. You look great.” He touched her face slightly.
“Thanks.” She started in on him. “I called a hundred times to see if you needed anything. I couldn’t reach you. I’ve been so worried. I heard about the guy showing up at your house.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I just…I’m so glad that you’re not hurt.”
“I’m fine. Really. And I apologize about for avoiding you, but I just wasn’t up to seeing anyone.” He scratched the top of his head nervously and squinted his eyes, trying to keep his emotions under control.
“No. I totally understand. If anything were ever to happen to Trina.” She stopped the thought. “Heaven forbid it.” She shook off her thoughts and tried to focus on one thing at time. “Anyway, what’s next for you?”
“Actually, I’m headed to Miami Beach…tomorrow.” He watched her face for a response. “Do you need anything before I go?” It was obviously another afterthought.
Disappointment seemed to cover Ivy’s face to Nicola’s approval. Her face frowned uncontrollably. “Why do you have to go there?” She felt her heart skip a beat. Please don’t go so far away, she pleaded to him silently.
“That’s my home. Remember? ” he said seeing the urgency in her eyes. He grinned happy to see her concern. He needed that. He needed to know that she still cared. “Ivy, I’m just going to regroup.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
“Oh. Yeah of course.” She tried to act as if it was nothing. “Well, don’t forget to call me.”
“I doubt that I’ll forget.” Nicola felt his head spinning. “I’ll call and give you all of my numbers there. And you can call me whenever you feel like it.” He was sure that she would not take him up on her proposition as badly as he wanted her to do so.
“I will,” she said letting go of their moment together. “Well, I’ll talk to you later. Take care.” Her arm slightly brushed his as she walked past him through the hall where Grey stood talking to one of the policemen, but inwardly watching her every move.
**
Crawling into bed later that night, Trina wiped her cheeks again and tried to massage the tear ducts of her eyes. She had cried so long and so hard that she began to feel terminally ill. It had been hard for her to pretend to be so strong the entire day when she wanted to throw herself on the casket as they were burying it. Launching her high heels across the room off her bed, she laid her head on the soft goose down pillow and sniffled involuntarily.
Looking at her alarm clock as the minutes slowly passed, she began to drift off feeling the tears dampen her pillow and wet her cheek. Unable to rid herself of the tight ball in her stomach and the constant flinching whenever she thought of Brooks’ body in a cold, dark coffin, she rose up in her bed and sighed. Damn it, he had just proposed to her…asked her to spend the rest of her life with him and then he went away…forever!
With all that was inside of her, she just wanted it all to end. She had contemplated how to rid herself of her burdens. Maybe she should do something drastic. Join the military? Become a police officer in remembrance of his death? Suicide? No. No. She looked over at the Bible that lay demandingly on top of the pile of books on her study table and decided absolutely not. She had to will herself to sleep. Grabbing her unfinished novel that she began reading six months ago, she turned to her marked page and began to read. …her lips quivered with passion as she held him closely.
“Trina?” a voice said from the other side of her door.
“Yeah,” Trina said putting down her book and wiping her eyes.
“It’s me, Emerald. Can I come in?”
“Sure, it’s open.”
Emerald had become a source of strength for Trina over the last few days. She almost envied Kakeline for having him. He was so beautiful and so bright. She loved with way that he smiled at her with his mossy green eyes and wide perfect smile. But he had not once flirted. Instead, late in the evenings, he would come and talk with her, keep her company…ultimately, giving her hope. She didn’t know why he had taken such an interest in her, but she was thankful. It was like Brooks had sent someone in his absence to help her through the most difficult point in her life.
“Hey you,” Emerald said coming to sit at her bedside still in his black suit pants and white button down shirt.
“Hey,” Trina said scooting over. “Thanks for coming to the funeral today.”
“No problem. Kakeline and I were way in the back, but we left early to beat the traffic.”
“It’s okay. I understand. What are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing much. I just checked on Ivy. She’s gone to bed. Grey’s out doing whatever that boy does.” He nodded in disapproval. “I just wanted to make sure that you were handling this okay.”
“As well as to be expected.” She smiled.
“You want to be cheered up?” His thick, black, naturally arched eyebrow lifted.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I brought Rocky Road Ice Cream and Shaft. Not the old movie, but Samuel L. Jackson.”
“Not the king of muthafuckas.” Trina smiled.
“The very same.” Emerald pulled the DVD from his coat pocket.
“Pop it in.” Trina said grabbing her remote to turn on her television. “Hey, where is your wife?
“At home.” Emerald sighed. “She said she wanted to be left alone.”
“Well, I surely don’t.” Trina looked into his eyes. Just what was going on here?
“I’ll go and fix the ice cream,” Emerald said quietly.
Chapter Twenty-One:
Welcome to Miami
Chapter 21
WELCOME TO MIAMI
“We are now boarding First Class seats A-1 through D-3” the flight attendant smiled as she watched the anxious passengers form a quiet single line. After a two-hour wait, Nicola boarded the plane with a pregnancy book, a pair of shades and desire to sleep for two hours and twenty-one minutes uninterrupted. Taking a window seat, he peered out across the Memphis airstrip and felt a small stir of relief. He was glad to be leaving for a while. It had been too long since he had pulled away from work, and his trip home was well overdue.
Sliding his shades over his eyes after sipping on a cold strong Sprite, Nicola adjusted his pillows and tried to rest. His thoughts began to race immediately. It happened wherever he was. He questioned every step of the day that Brooks was killed. He went over every strategic and spontaneous move. He blamed himself continuously. I should have reacted quicker. I should have pushed him out of the way. I should have taken the bullet.
“Please buckle your safety belt, sir,” a flight at
tendant said hovering over him. He made eye contact with her. His thoughts must have been showing on his face. She looked away, stunned by his stone glare. He looked away, too. Embarrassed by his sheer rage. Buckling his seat belt, he cracked his knuckles and anxiously awaited the opportunity to order a drink.
Nearly three hours later after a long nap and virtually turbulence-free flying, Nicola was on a taxi headed to his parents’ house. He knew that he had made it back home when turned off of MacArthur Cswy to the Bridge Road. As he entered into the private community down Star Island Drive, Nicola looked around at the familiar upscale mansions with well-manicured lawns, luxurious cars and beautiful landscapes and recalled a simple time in his life as child.
Only two homes down from the entrance of the community sat a familiar three-story villa lined with incredibly well-kept shrubbery, an immaculate lawn, tall healthy palm trees, marble lions at the entrance of the rod-iron gated driveway and his mother’s silver jaguar parked respectably at the front door. Pulling his bags out of the car, he passed the driver a hundred dollar bill and took a deep breath.
Home. It was the same as the day he had left. Statuesque and marvelous, its dominant beauty and skillful architecture was a testament to his father’s many years of prosperous hard work and sacrifice.
Walking through the grass, he saw his mother standing in front of black rod-iron doors in a silk yellow Chanel suit and yellow alligator pumps. Her long fiery red hair was pulled away from her face in a bun and her grandmother’s pearls sat on her neck like the crown jewels of England.
Excited beyond her own expectations, she ran down the steps, grabbed him Nicola her arms and kissed him on his cheek. Dropping his bags on the ground, he picked her up and whirled her around. Her blue eyes stared through his own as if she was searching through his soul and her long nails rushed through his hair.
“Thank God you are finally home, Nico.” Her smile was luminous and yet fragile.
“Ma, I’ve missed you so much,” he said beholding her beauty once again, even noticing small lines in her face that he swore were not there before and the awesome streaks of bold silver in her hair. Was it possible for his elegant mother to be aging?
“Oh, I’ve missed you, too. Come on. Let’s get you into the house and out of this heat.” Grabbing one of his bags, she turned on her heals and headed for the house.
“Ma, I’ve got that.” Nicola tried to take the bag away.
“Nonsense.” She pulled away. “I’m not made of glass.” Climbing the stairs, she was met at the door by Delmin, the family butler.
“How are you doing Mr. Del?” Nicola said greeting his old friend with a big hug and smile.
“Good, Nic and yourself?” Delmin said taking his bags.
“Oh, I will be better now.”
“Well, I will leave you to get reacquainted. Do you need anything at all, sir?”
“No, I’m great.” Looking around the large marble entryway, Nicola realized that absolutely nothing had changed since he had gone away. “So where is everyone?”
“Honey, we are old now. There is no everyone…just your father and I. And he is away on business. He won’t arrive from Paris until later this evening.”
“He’s still running like a race horse, huh?” Every since Nicola was a boy the most vivid memories he had of his father where of him working tirelessly around the clock.
“I don’t know. As he gets older, he talks more and more of Italy. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he wants to move back there before it is all over. You know, my mother missed Ireland that way.” She drifted off in her thoughts for a moment and then sighed. “Until the day she died she always talked about it.”
Walking beside his mother through the long foyer embellished with stained glass windows, beautiful Victorian art and black marble floors, he suddenly wished for a more simple life again.
“It’s good to be home, Ma.” His voice was somber again.
“It’s good to have you home,” she said holding his hand. She was well aware of his sadness. It was a natural instinct that mothers possessed. Changing the subject as they entered the family room, she tried to revive his spirits. “So, is there a special woman anywhere around?” She always longed for her son to fall in love again.
“It would be just up your alley if there was,” Nicola said playfully. “Yeah, I think there is someone special, but she is just a friend.”
“Do I finally smell a relationship in the air?”
“We don’t have a relationship, ma. We have more of an understanding.”
“What is there to understand if she is special? Besides, friends make the best wives. I was your father’s friend for several months before we began to court. Now, nearly forty years later look at us. We are still in love.” She smiled at the thought of her husband.
“That’s old world love. Things are different now. Besides that, I doubt if I’ll be marrying her.”
“Why is that?”
Nicola thought about what he was about to say for a moment. Did he really want to tell all to his mother? She was such a delicate soul. Besides, she was the only woman in his life that still regarded him as an innocent. Why would he ruin such a wonderful feeling by revealing the real Nicola, a man of many women and secrets?
“Well, she would have to want to marry me.” He smiled at her.
“Any woman in her right mind would want to marry you. You’re beautiful, smart, and rich. You’re what they call the perfect catch, Nicola.”
“Ma, I’m not rich.” Nicola sat down in his favorite brown leather recliner and relaxed. “You and dad are rich. I’m a workingman. A cop for goodness sake.” He chuckled. “On that type of salary, I’ll never be rich.”
“But one day, we’ll die, and you’ll inherit our entire fortune. Well, you and your brother. And you boys couldn’t spend that much money in two lifetimes. And what about the Christmas and birthday package we give to you and your brother every year.” His mother was extremely proud of their fortune and how well her husband had done as a poor immigrant in the United States.
“Well for now, I am a working man. And I am in no rush to have you or pop die so that you can leave me anything. Thanks, but no thanks. Now as for the package twice a year…keep’em coming.” He said smiling at her as she grinned back at him.
As Liz sprayed her Ivy vine growing across the room above the wall-to-wall glass doors, she looked back at her son once more. “You haven’t asked about your brother, yet?” She could see bringing up the subject made Nicola jittery.
“Yeah, I know. So, how is your darling Santo?” Nicola asked looking away from his mother so she could not see the repugnance in his face.
“He is well, but you should go and see him while you are here, yes?”
There was a long silence before Nicola could no longer bare his mother’s stare. “Look, I’m gonna go up stairs and take a bath and get out of these traveling clothes, and maybe take a nap. I’ll be back down later.”
“Okay, honey,” Liz said dismissing all notions that her son had changed. Nicola was still stubborn and unwilling to compromise, much like all the Agosto men.
**
When Nicola awoke later that night it was nearly eleven o’clock. He had to adjust for a moment, remember where he was. It had been ages since had awakened in someone else’s house. Wrapped in his satin goose down comforter in his king size oak sleigh bed, he looked across the room in its darkness at his senior prom picture with Arin Antonelli, the captain of the cheerleading squad. His life was so different back. Then, he was a carefree teen engulfed in social activities and adolescent politics. All that mattered then was his red mustang convertible, his letterman jacket, his wardrobe and football. He had prided himself on being the perfect gentleman in school. All the girls wanted him, and he only cared for one. Arin.
Wanting to get away from Florida and his coveted circle of friends after a horrible break up with Arin, he took a football scholarship to Memphis State University in hopes of blossomi
ng into his manhood and returning to home afterward a full grown, intelligent young bachelor ready to help his father in the family business and rub Arin’s nose in her all time biggest mistake.
However, Nicola never returned home to his protected lifestyle or his loving family. Instead in an attempt to break away and form his own identity his senior year in college, he signed up for the Memphis police Academy. Thus, bringing about a new man with new eyes for a new and more grotesque world of beaten women, dead victims, starving children, poverty stricken communities and so many drug users and drug dealers that he couldn’t lock them all up if they voluntarily lined up outside of the jailhouse. Now, he was a bitter oversexed drunk with a gun that he often thought of using on himself.
He paused for a minute. History on hold, he rolled over in bed and felt his aching ribs and painful bruises. He stared at the wall and felt a pain in the back of his head. It had been happening often since he killed Caesar in house. Panic attacks. He tried to slow it. He breathed in and out trying to calm himself, but the pain in his chest wouldn’t stay at bay.
Getting out of bed, he sat up on the side of the bed and grabbed his chest. Sweat pouring from his forehead, he tried to stand. He needed to make it to the restroom, but the room was spinning. He kept seeing flashbacks of Brooks’ body laying on the floor and shooting Caesar in the head. He kept hearing Ivy’s voice and seeing the ultra sound pictures. He tried to stop his out-of-control thoughts but they cascaded through his mind without any way to block them.
“I’ve got to stop this shit,” he said holding his head in his hands. “I’ve got to…”
Tears formed at the sides of his eyes, and finally without a fight he let them fall to his cheeks. And there in the middle of the night, back in the place where his life story began, Nicola let go and cried.
Ivy's Twisted Vine Redux Page 30
