“Your partner in crime is out on the streets now. It seems the name you gave and the name on your license are not one and the same. They’re in the process of checking you out in other states to see if you’re wanted. You may as well get comfortable; it could take a while,” she said with satisfaction.
“How long?”
Of course she didn’t answer. She just gave me a silly smirk as she walked away.
“Why’d you kick the cop?” asked the lady of the night.
“Because he was an asshole, that’s why!” I responded sharply.
“Excuse me. I was just asking a simple question.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. That bitch just gets under my skin.”
“Keep that attitude up, girl, and you’ll do just fine,” my cell mate said approvingly.
Another hour passed before Old Sourpuss showed up again.
“Georgia Lamendola—a.k.a. Georgia Durante—you’re out,” she announced as she reluctantly opened the cell door.
“I never did get that call,” I said as we walked down the hall.
Old Sourpuss smirked. “I never did get that clearance.”
“So, where’d you get that face anyway?” I asked as we approached the door to freedom. Her forehead creased and her eyes narrowed. “Did a truck run over it when you were a kid, or what?”
“You sassy little bitch!” she cursed under her breath.
I gave her the same sick smile I’d been looking at for the last eight hours.
“Hope to see you soon,” I heard her say before the steel door shut with a loud clank.
Joe and Butch Marionette were waiting for me. Butch had been living in Vegas for the last six months. He was Joe’s “eyes,” I was sure. I didn’t say hello.
“Come on, the car’s outside,” Joe said nonchalantly.
“I’m not going with you.”
He looked around, then casually took my wrist. Applying pressure, he whispered, “Don’t start in here. I’m not going to hurt you. Now put a smile on your face and just walk out that door.”
I did what I was told. I obviously couldn’t count on the police for help.
“Aren’t you going to thank Butch for bailing us out?” Joe asked as we got into Butch’s car.
“No, you thank him; he’s your friend.”
Butch turned in my direction and our eyes locked. He finally looked away.
“I was in the same cell as the guy who stole the money at Caesars,” Joe said. “You know what his bail was? Nine hundred dollars. You know what ours was? Five thousand—apiece! You wouldn’t listen to me, Georgia. You had to shoot off that mouth of yours. That mouth is gonna get you killed one day, you know that?”
I ignored him and rummaged through my purse. The pot was still there. I couldn’t believe my luck. That purse was so crammed with junk that they probably went only as far as finding the identification and stuffed it under the shelf. They’d still be writing if they had to list all the contents—and I’d probably still be in there.
“Where’s my car?”
“The pricks impounded it. We’re on our way to pick it up now.”
“I have to go to the bathroom. Can we stop somewhere?”
“We can stop if you promise not to run.”
Whenever I got the courage to stand up to Joe and threaten to leave, he would always say in a mocking voice, “Where you going?” So I used those famous words, except I said, “Where am I going?” in a defeated tone.
“Finally figured it out, huh?”
“Yeah, Joe. I’m not going anywhere.”
We stopped at a Denny’s restaurant, he with his crumpled suit and me with my torn clothes, fat lip, and scraped-up body. What a pair. But this was Las Vegas—nothing was out of place. He waited by the bathroom door until I came out. Butch was seated at a table. His pale face looked drawn and his sandy-colored hair was messy.
“We’re gonna eat something before we get the car,” Joe informed me. “You must be starving. I know you didn’t eat that food, just like I knew you wouldn’t go to the bathroom in there. I worried about you.”
“You worried about me? Last night you were going to kill me and today you worried about me? You need help, Joe. Order me some eggs. I’m going to make a phone call.”
Joe escorted me to the phone by the door. I was hungry and tired and every inch of my body ached. I called Mickey and briefly explained what happened. I told him I’d be home in a few hours.
“Is Toni okay?”
“She’s fine; she’s playing in the pool with the girls. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”
“No, it’s okay, Mick. Really, I’ll be fine. Could you call the Sahara, though, and tell them I won’t be in tonight?” I hung up the phone.
“So, it was Mickey’s you’ve been staying at—that lying bastard.”
“Joe, it wasn’t his fault. I asked him if I could stay. What’d you expect him to do, turn me in? We’re blood.” I turned and walked to the table.
“You should have seen her, Butch. That cop won’t be forgetting her for a few weeks—especially when he takes a shower. She’s one feisty little chick! That’s why I love her, I guess,” he said, tenderly squeezing my hand.
I pulled my hand away. “It wasn’t funny, Joe.”
“Aw, c’mon, my little jailbird. We’ll laugh about this in years to come.”
“Maybe so, but right now I don’t see the humor.”
Butch dropped us off at the impound. They released my car after a lengthy delay, which I’m sure was done intentionally to increase our aggravation. I was too tired to be a smart aleck, so I just sat patiently until the paperwork was done. Joe took the car keys and got into the driver’s seat. He drove in silence to our apartment on Sahara Boulevard. When we arrived, he took the keys from the ignition and placed them in his pocket as if they were a prized possession.
“Joe, I told Mickey I’d be there in an hour or so. It’s been well over that now. I have to go.”
“Just come in for ten minutes. I want to talk to you. Then you can go.”
Not really having a choice, I walked up the two flights of stairs. Joe followed close behind and put the key in the lock.
“Let’s talk out by the pool,” I said, feeling anxious.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Georgia; I just want to talk to you.” He pushed opened the door and I reluctantly stepped inside. The door closed. His body leaned against it like a human barrier.
“What am I going to do with you?” he said softly.
“Let me go, Joe.”
“I’ll never let you go, Georgia. I love you too much to let you walk out of my life. You’ll leave over my dead body, but until then, you belong to me, body, mind, and—”
“Don’t say it, Joe. Don’t say ‘spirit,’ because you’ve broken that. I’m dead inside. Can’t you see that? You’ve taken my body. You’ve managed to twist my mind. And now you’ve killed what was left of me—my spirit. I’m afraid to say what I feel, so I try not to feel anything. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. Do you think that what you did last night just goes away? It doesn’t. I try to push it out of my mind, but I can’t.”
“You love me, Georgia; I know you do.”
“Yes, I love you, but I hate you just as much. I’m sad all the time, and I want to be happy. I don’t want to live like this anymore, and I don’t think this is any kind of life for Toni either. Children are supposed to laugh, and that child rarely does. We tiptoe around you, never knowing if we’re going to say or do something to set you off. You would have killed me last night. There’s just no stopping you when you get into a rage. You’ve got to let me go, Joe.”
“Who is he, Georgia?”
“Who’s who?”
“The cocksucker you’re seeing. Don’t play stupid.”
“Oh, Jesus, I’m not seeing anyone, Joe. Why won’t you listen to me?”
“You wouldn’t be talking like this if you weren’t seeing someone.”
; “Why can’t we talk like normal people, Joe? Why is it impossible to say what I feel? Why can’t you ever hear what I’m saying?”
“If you’re lying to me, I swear . . . I’ll kill you. I’ll kill anyone that touches you. You belong to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Honey, please—don’t leave me,” he begged, pulling me to him. “I can’t go through this again. You tear my fuckin’ heart out when you do this. I can’t live without you, Georgia. Please . . . say you’ll never leave me. Say it.”
“Can you say you’ll never hurt me?”
“I’m so sorry about last night. I know I scared you.”
“Scared me? Joe—you were going to kill me! You tried to run me over with the car, for Christ’s sake!”
“I know, I know, but you were gone for so long. I didn’t know where you were. I thought I’d lost you for good. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you never coming back. I love you so much, Georgia. You’re all I have, you and Toni. You’re my life. Please say you love me—just say it.”
Honesty was impossible. He didn’t want to hear the truth. He didn’t want to know how I felt. He only wanted it to be all right.
You’ll never win, White. Just tell him what he wants to hear, what he needs to hear, or you know how this will end. You know how he is. Be careful how you talk to him; he’s on the edge now.
But I want to get off the merry-go-round.
He can’t hear you, White. He won’t hear you.
My family, my friends, no one understands why I stay, why I go back. All they can see is the tough guy, the “in control” Joe, never the tears, the insecurity, the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. How can anyone understand? How do I get out—and be free from harm?
He pressed my body tightly against his, moving his hands down my back and onto my buttocks. His breathing became hard as his right hand moved to my breast. “I love you, Georgia.” His pace quickened as he began kissing my neck. Then he violently ripped off my blouse and pushed me to the floor.
“You’re mine,” he said. “No one will ever have you but me. Tell me you love me.”
“Stop it, Joe!”
“Tell me you love me!”
Dick’s face flashed in my mind; the memory of being raped became vivid.
Kiss me. Just one little kiss—that’s all I want.
“You’re hurting me, Joe; please stop.”
“Don’t fight me, honey; just let me love you.”
“You’re not loving me, Joe; you’re fucking me. You’re hurting me—let me go!”
“I’ll kill anyone who ever touches you like this. You belong to me.”
My shoulder hurt and I was exhausted. I had no strength or will left. He took me, as he had so many times before.
“Can I go now?” I asked when it was over.
“Will you come back?”
“Not tonight.”
“But you are coming back?”
“Yes, I’ll be back in the morning,” I promised. That was the easiest and fastest way to leave.
Slipping silently into my cousin’s house, I climbed the stairs. I peeked into Toni’s room and found her in a peaceful sleep. Tears welled in my eyes as I stood looking down at her in the darkened room. Pulling the covers softly over her shoulders, I studied her angelic face as she slept unaware. God, I never meant for your life to get messed up like this, my precious angel. Somehow Mommy will make it better, I promised. My hands trembled as I pulled the door closed.
Blotting away the tears, I tiptoed down the stairs, hoping Mickey had fallen asleep. No such luck. He looked up from the couch as I entered the room.
“Jesus,” he said, inspecting my appearance and shaking his head. “You’re going back with him, aren’t you?”
“No, Mick, not this time. I got a taste of freedom—I’m leaving in the morning for New York. I’ll take what I can fit in the car; you can ship me the rest. I’m exhausted, Mickey. I’m going to bed. I want to be out of here as early as possible.”
“Mommy, Mommy,” Toni yelled, jumping on the bed. “Can we go with Cousin Mickey and the kids on the boat today?”
I opened my eyes and struggled to push myself up against the headboard. My body winced with every movement.
“No, baby girl. We’re going to take a trip in the car today, just you and me. Won’t that be fun?”
Her eyes flashed with excitement, “Oh, goody!” Blond hair cascaded to her shoulders in a mass of curls as she bounced out of the room.
I waited until I was out of the state of Nevada before I called him. His tone was none too friendly.
“I trusted you, Georgia.”
“The problem is, Joe, I don’t trust you. I’m going home.”
“Don’t do this to me, Georgia. I’m warning you—don’t do this,” he said in a cold, hostile voice.
Fearful, I thought of the consequences and didn’t answer.
“Georgia, did you fall asleep, or are your ears underwater? If you don’t—”
“You don’t have the slightest inkling of how I feel!” I retorted angrily. “I’m giving you the courtesy of a phone call so you won’t worry about me, but I’m not coming back. I tried to make you understand how I felt last night, but you refused to hear me, as usual.”
“You can’t leave. You have to be in court in a few days.”
“You handle it, Joe. You got us into it; you can get us out.”
“If you jump bail, I’ll be out five grand.”
“It costs you more than money every time you do what you do to me, Joe. Maybe if you have to reach in your pocket, you’ll think twice next time. I’ll call you when I get home to let you know I got there safely. Good-bye, Joe.”
Chapter Eight
Upon my return to Upstate New York, I moved into the garage behind my mother’s house and began the process of renovation. Joe left Nevada as soon as he got the mess with the court straightened out. He lost the bail money and I had a warrant out for my arrest. Fortunately, the computer age wasn’t in full swing then. They never did catch me, but for years after that I had to tiptoe through the state of Nevada. Three days after he hit the road, Joe was back in New York with his usual pocketful of promises. For the hundredth time, he said he’d finally learned his lesson and was really going to clean up his act.
To hide in Rochester was impossible—too visible there. And the ensuing battles beat me down emotionally. I surrendered. Nothing really changed. Joe and I picked up our life where we had left it. Just another botched escape. I still daydreamed about the time I would actually get the courage to go through with my quest for happiness and sanity. Until that day, the merry-go-round continued in an endless cycle.
Over a year had passed since Caesars II had been sold and Joe and I had returned to Rochester. I turned the garage into a beautiful carriage house, with light streaming through in every room. The knotty pine walls and light-colored contemporary furnishings gave my spirits a needed lift. The work was both extensive and expensive. Finally, every little nook and cranny was exactly the way I wanted it. Although our old apartment over the club was considered a showpiece, it was dark and depressing. Everything was black and red, even the walls. Joe wouldn’t let me make any changes; he liked the bachelor-pad ambience. I was never happy in that atmosphere. To my surprise, Joe liked the cozy space I had created.
With Joe not drinking nearly as much as he did when working at the club, we argued less. He played tennis every day with Sal Ruvio, and we socialized a lot more, with his friends, of course. We still had our knock-down, drag-out fights, but not as often. I didn’t put a lot of stock in his current behavior, but I was grateful for the calm.
Something was going on. Joe began acting like a rat in a corner. I didn’t know exactly what was eating at him, but I had my suspicions.
“Why don’t we move to California?” he suggested from out of nowhere.
“What? Are you crazy? Why would I want to move after just getting this place the way I want it?”
I couldn’t con
ceive of leaving the state with him after the last episode. If Las Vegas taught me anything, it was never to be out of driving distance from my family and friends. I was too vulnerable without a safety net.
“This place will always be here. We’ll come back someday.”
“No, I won’t go,” I said adamantly.
“Georgia, I have to go—and I want you with me.”
“Why do you have to go?”
“Don’t ask questions, Georgia; we just gotta go.”
“We?”
“You’re going, and that’s all there is to it.”
“What about my work?”
“You can work out there.”
“I’m established here. I’m booked all the time. They don’t know who Georgia Durante is in California. I’ll have to start all over. Are you willing to support my clothes habit until I start making some money?”
“You’ll always have food on the table and a roof over your head, but I’m not making any promises about buying your clothes. You still have price tags on half the shit in your closet. I don’t even think you know what the hell you’ve got in there. Your closet is like a fucking department store with all the money you spend.”
“It’s my money, Joe. I’ll spend it the way I want to. Besides, I need an extensive wardrobe for work.”
“You make a goddamn fortune, Georgia, and what do you have to show for it?” he spewed.
“This adorable apartment that I worked so hard on, for one thing—and I’m not leaving!”
“Look, Georgia, I’m not giving you a choice. I’ll stay with my brother Jimmy until I find us a place. That should give you enough time to take care of things here. When I settle in, I’ll send for you.”
I agreed. However, I had no intention of going. I flew to San Diego to visit Joe four times during the last three months of 1975. Each time I gave a different excuse as to why the move was taking so long: my work, Toni, whatever I could think of. Nevertheless, Joe was determined to have me with him in San Diego—permanently. His reasons for leaving New York must have been serious, because he was too afraid to come back and drag me by my hair. He called every night and pleaded with me to speed up my move. I was always there to answer his calls. He seemed too afraid of losing me again to resort to violence. When I’d visit, he was gentle and loving, the man I’d fallen in love with. But my past experiences were still vivid, and I wouldn’t give in.
The Company She Keeps Page 21
