by J. B. Reed
Joseph laughed in Vivie’s face.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you are going to whack me? I’m an important man, little girl. You’ll never get out of here alive. I have guys all over this building and if you even try to pop me, you’ll be dead before you leave this room.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. And I told you before; don’t call me little girl.”
Joseph could see that Vivie meant everything she said. She was determined that he was going to die and she was going to be the one to take him out. Joseph recalled what Michael had said to him about Vivie’s feelings of family and her duty to avenge her family. Joseph looked over to the bed where his pistol was lying. It was only a foot away. Vivie knew what Joseph was thinking.
“Go ahead and try it. You’ll not make it, Joseph.”
“Listen, Vivian, let’s talk about this. You’re wrong. I would never do anything to harm Michael. I loved him like a son. And didn’t I accept you into the family? I had big plans for the both of you.”
Vivie stood silently; never taking her eyes off of Joseph or dropping her aim.
“This is bullshit.” Joseph started to walk toward Vivie.
Vivie fired the crossbow, shooting the arrow through Joseph’s neck. Joseph stumbled back, grabbing at the arrow. Vivie reloaded and shot him again; this time the arrow went straight through his heart. Joseph dropped to the floor. Vivie walked over to his body and knelt down beside him. Blood was coming from his nose and mouth. Vivie placed her hand under his chin, forcing his mouth closed. She watched as the life drained out of Joseph’s body. She removed the arrows from his neck and his chest, and after wiping the blood onto the bedspread, she replaced them in her shoulder harness. As she left the bedroom, she closed the door behind her. She exited the office through the window and walked down the fire escape.
“You can now rest in peace my beloved Michael.”
The next morning was the day of Michael’s funeral. Vivie walked into the kitchen and put coffee on. Opening the door, she picked up the morning paper. The headlines read, “ORGANIZED CRIME BOSS, DON JOSEPH DE LUCA FOUND MURDERED“. Vivie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down to read the rest of the article.
News of Joseph’s death traveled quickly. Shane rolled himself into Molly’s with a copy of the newspaper. Tommy was sitting at his table, having breakfast.
“Tommy, have you heard? The big wop boss was murdered yesterday. Here, it’s in the paper this morning.” Shane handed the paper to Tommy.
“Jesus. Don De Luca was hit? Whoever got to him had to be close to him. You can be sure it wasn’t one of us.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Tommy.”
“What are you rambling about Shane?”
“I agree, I don’t think it was a Westie, but I think it was one of us, someone Irish.”
“You think it was Michael?”
“No, it wasn’t Michael. I haven’t seen you to tell you this but I had a visitor yesterday. It was Vivian.”
Tommy dropped the newspaper and stared at Shane.
“It was Vivian that killed Ryan, not Michael. She was looking for you, Tommy. The other night, the guy that was hit down at the depot; it was Michael that was hit. She was given information that you were the trigger man. She was looking for you to settle the score.”
“Did you tell her it wasn’t me? Did you tell her you were with me all night that night?”
“Yeah, Tommy, I told her. I also told her what those guys that came into Molly’s that night said, you know, about the trigger man being an Italian. When I told her that, the look on her face changed. It was like she had seen a ghost or something. She turned around to leave but before she did, she gave me a message for you.”
“Well what the fuck was it?”
“She said, tell Tommy he can relax, no one will be looking for him no more.”
“Vivian killed Ryan? I can’t fucking believe it.”
“She told me she killed him because he killed her father, Tommy. Tommy, I think she’s the one who killed this mob boss.”
“Are you fucking crazy? How could she get that close to him?”
“If Michael was working for him, then wouldn’t it be reasonable to think that she may have been too? And if she thought that he was behind Michael getting it, I think she would have killed him.”
“I just can’t see Vivian as a killer, Shane. Sweet, little Vivie? There’s no way in hell she could be a killer. I think she was fooling you.”
“I don’t think so Tommy; you didn’t see her. She handled a Glock as good as you or me. She‘s not the same person we used to know. She had hatred in her eyes, Tommy.”
Tommy was unable to believe what he was hearing. He was incapable of seeing Vivie in this light. But for her to say that he could relax, that no one would be looking for him anymore….maybe there was something to what Shane was telling him.
The day after Michael’s funeral, Vivie started packing to go to West Virginia. She needed time with Rose and with her Mama. The doorbell rang and when Vivie answered the door there was a registered letter for her. She signed for the letter and closed the door. The letter was from an attorney. Michael had a will drawn up and the reading of the will would take place tomorrow afternoon at the attorney’s office. Michael never said anything about having a will. Vivie knew he had some money somewhere but he never mentioned where. He never really had time to tell her much of anything. Her presence was requested at the reading of the will due to the fact that, as his wife, she was his only survivor. The trip to Matewan would have to wait one more day.
Vivie took a cab to the attorney’s office. She opened the door and informed the receptionist who she was and that she was expected. A few moments later a tall, gentleman, with graying hair, opened the inner office door and introduced himself as Jason Silva. He invited Vivie into his office.
“Mrs. O’Bannon, I would like to offer my condolences for the loss of your husband.”
“Thank you.”
“There will be no others here today, so unless you have questions, we will get to the reading of the will.”
“That will be fine.”
Michael’s will was short and sweet. Everything he owned he left to Vivie. The apartment on 5th Avenue and all the contents; the paintings alone were worth a fortune. Vivie knew Michael had great taste in art but she had not realized the paintings were originals. His beloved T-Bird was also left to her as well as three bank accounts, stocks and bonds. The sum total of Vivie’s inheritance was 2.5 million dollars. Vivie felt as though she was about to pass out.
“Are you alright, Mrs. O’Bannon? Would you like a glass of water?”
“Yes, please. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say 2.5 million dollars?”
“Yes, Mrs. O’Bannon. You had no idea your husband was worth that much, did you?”
“No, sir, I did not.”
“Well, he was and now you are. I would like to suggest you hire an accountant to take care of your financial dealings. If you would like, I can refer someone.”
“Yes, I would appreciate that.”
“I can represent you in all legal matters if you wish.”
“I would also appreciate that, Mr. Silva. I have to admit, I was not expecting this. I feel a little overwhelmed.”
“Your husband made some very wise investments. His stocks and bonds; they have all done very well for him, and now for you.”
Vivie could not believe her ears. Michael had left her a very wealthy widow. Thinking about it, she would give it all away for just one more day with Michael.
“I’ll have everything transferred into your name today, Mrs. O’Bannon. I’ll send over all the paperwork by special carrier. If you have any questions or concerns, please, never hesitate to call on me.”
“Thank you Mr. Silva.”
Vivie’s trip to Matewan had to wait two more weeks. After all the paperwork was signed and her accounts were set up, Vivie then went back to Matewan to see her Mama and
her darling baby Rose. Heartbroken over the loss of Michael, but a lot wealthier because of him; Vivie was now in a position to truly help her family as she had always wanted to do.
Once Vivie returned to Matewan and related the events to Mama, they grieved together. The only thing that kept Vivie going was her darling Rose. Even though she knew she was Tommy’s child in reality, Vivie had told Rose that Michael was her father. She grew up believing her father was a strong, handsome, Irish gentleman who gave his life to protect her and her mother.
Vivie did her best to make life easier for Mary and her brothers and sisters. She wanted to buy her mother a nicer home, but Mary was determined to stay where she was. She liked Matewan. The people there had made her welcome, accepted her as one of their own. She knew she would never find another home where she felt more comfortable and at ease. Vivie did convince her to let her buy the house for her; and put it in her name. Fifteen years later, Mary passed away. Vivie had her body brought back to New York and laid her to rest beside of Patrick. Exactly where Mary had wanted to be.
Vivie also made sure her brothers and sisters had a college education. All but her youngest brother, Patrick, Jr. Pat had decided he wanted to work in the coal mines of West Virginia. Vivie tried her best to talk him out of his decision. She reminded him of the dangers; reminded him of what happened to Luke. Pat could not be deterred. He was that much like his father; and Vivie. After college, Liam married his long time sweetheart Susie Jackson. Liam had gone into Veterinary medicine and opened a practice in Charleston, West Virginia. He and Susie were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl. The boy they named Michael. Keri became a nurse and moved to Ohio. She married a doctor she met at the hospital where she was working. Vivie's youngest sister Katie stayed in the home place. She opened a business in Matewan but never married.
Rose and Vivie returned to New York and the apartment on 5th Avenue. Never one to remain idle, Vivie opened an antique shop on the Upper East Side. The business became very successful and it filled many lonely hours. After graduating high school, Rose was
accepted at Yale. Vivie could hardly believe that her little girl was all grown up and going to such a prestigious school. How thankful she was to Michael for making this all possible. He would have been so proud of his little girl. Rose had turned into a beautiful, intelligent young woman.
While in her junior year at Yale, Rose received a phone call from Vivie. Her mother’s voice sounded strange, she was concerned that she was about to hear bad news.
“My darling, Rose, I hate to bother you at school; I know how busy you are.”
“You’re not bothering me Mother. You sound strange, is something wrong?”
“Rose, would it be possible for you to come home for a few days? I need to discuss something with you that I would prefer not to discuss on the telephone.”
“Of course, I can come home this weekend. Mother, are you feeling alright?”
“We’ll talk about it when you get home, my dearest. Travel safely. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Rose felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her mother would never call her away from school if it were not something important.
When Vivie hung up the phone her mind went back to shortly after Rose had left for college. She had not been feeling well for a while and had decided she should go in for a checkup. After a complete examination and several tests, the doctor advised Vivie she had ovarian cancer. The silent killer. The doctor told her by the time ovarian cancer begins to show symptoms, it’s usually too far advanced to do anything about it. This was true in Vivie’s case. The doctor had essentially given Vivie a death sentence. She had attempted to keep her illness from Rose as much as possible the times Rose had come home for visits. But now, it was time to tell her the truth. Vivie had very little time left and much to tell her beloved daughter.
Rose arrived at the apartment a little after 4:00 p.m. She had not been home for almost a year. She hated that she had not taken a little time to visit with her mother but with studies and friends at school, she had lost track of how long it had been since had last been home. Rose opened the door and called out to her mother.
“Mother, I’m home. Where are you?”
“I’m in the bedroom my dear.”
When Rose walked into the bedroom and saw her mother lying in the bed at 4:00 in the afternoon, she knew she was ill. It was not like Vivie to be in bed at this time of day; especially when she was expecting Rose home.
“Mother? Why are you in bed? Are you ill? Why didn’t you let me know you were not feeling well?”
“Come, sit beside me, my dear. We have much to talk about.”
Rose walked over and sat down on the side of the bed, taking Vivie’s hand in her own, looking deeply into her eyes.. At forty-six years old, Vivie was still a beautiful woman. The cancer had caused a dramatic weight loss, but the sparkle in her emerald green eyes was still there.
"It's nearing time to pay the piper, my dear."
"Mama, please, don’t speak of such things.” Rose attempted to quiet her mother, but the lady would not be silenced.
"My darling Rose, there is much that needs to be discussed, there is much that you need to know, before…..well…before I make my departure."
In a tone not much more than a whisper, Vivie began to tell Rose the story of her life. The way she met Michael, the horrible details of the rape and the way Michael saved her life that night. Learning of Michael’s profession and then agreeing to marry him. She related the details of Michael’s attack on Shane and the way Ryan had killed her grandfather on the order of Tommy. That afternoon everything was revealed to Rose, including the fact that her own mother had become an assassin. The most difficult thing Vivie had to tell Rose was the truth about her paternity. The fact that she had lied to her all these years, letting her believe that Michael was her father when in fact her true father was Tommy Flannery. Vivie explained to Rose the reason she would never allow any harm to come to Tommy was because he and Rose shared the same blood type and she was afraid that Rose may need him someday. By the end of the story, both mother and daughter were in tears.
“My sweet Rose, can you ever forgive me for keeping the truth from you all of these years?”
“Oh, Mother, I am not upset about that. But to think of the kind of life you have endured and to not be able to tell me about it. It breaks my heart. If only you had told me you were ill, I would have been here, to care for you.”
“I never wanted you to sacrifice your life for me, Rose. I knew you would leave school and come home the moment you knew I was ill. Rose, I wanted so badly to think of Michael as your father that I let myself believe a lie and in doing so, let you believe it as well. He did love you Rose. He would have given his life for you. In a manner of speaking, that’s just what he did.”
“As far as I’m concerned, Michael was my father. My name is Rose Michelle O’Bannon. I only wish that I could have known him, Mother.”
Rose stayed with Vivie for the next three weeks; until her death. The newspaper had an article about her passing as she had become a prominent business woman. The mortuary expected many people would attend the funeral, to pay their respects. Vivie was to be laid to rest beside of Michael. After the service, Rose noticed a man standing beside an oak tree, watching as people came up to her to offer their condolences. Rose gave Liam the keys to the apartment and told him to take the family there, that she had something she had to take care of and would be home shortly. Liam was concerned that she should not be left alone at this time, but she assured him all was well. As everyone started to leave the cemetery, Rose saw the man who had been standing by the tree start to walk over to Vivie’s grave; she walked up and stood beside him.
“Did you know my Mother?”
“Yes, I did. We grew up in Hell’s Kitchen together.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever met you. My name is Rose.”
The man turned to Rose and held out his hand to her.
&n
bsp; “It’s a pleasure to meet you Rose. My name is Tommy Flannery.”
Rose was speechless at first; looking down at Tommy’s hand, unsure whether or not to take it. Vivie had told her that Tommy may show up at the funeral but Rose didn’t think he would have the nerve. Once again, her mother was right.
“Rose, if you don’t mind my saying so, you are just as beautiful as your mother. You know, I was kind of in love with her. Hell, all the boys in the Kitchen loved Vivie. It damn near broke our hearts when your father took her away from us.”
“Would you like to come over to the bench as sit down, Mr. Flannery? I would like to hear more of your memories of my mother.”
Rose and Tommy walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. Rose was watching Tommy’s facial expressions as he spoke of her mother with kindness and caring. The thought of him raping and beating her and then leaving her to die was almost more than she could stand. Rose stood up and picked up her purse. Waling behind Tommy she continued to talk to him.
