Tommy Gabrini 4: Dapper Tom Begin Again

by Mallory Monroe

  After a longer pause, Tommy exhaled. “It’s better.”

  “But not the best yet.” Sal looked at him. “Would that be an accurate assessment?”

  Tommy nodded. “That would be an accurate assessment.”

  “You handled the divorce better than you’re handling her marriage. Which makes no sense at all. Broad did me the way Grace did you, I’d be glad some other sucker was taking her on.”

  “Come on, Sal.”

  “Come on nothing! I hope he breaks her heart the way she broke yours. Maybe her ass will see what it feels like then. And the nerve she had sending me and Gem an invitation. An invitation to her wedding, are you kidding me? Crazy bitch!”

  “Knock it off,” Tommy said firmly.

  “Knock what off? She’s nuts if she thought I was attending any wedding of hers!”

  “She’s the mother of my child. Knock it off.”

  Sal understood that tone, and knocked it off. Tommy was a strange bird, always had been. He never responded the way everybody else did. Not even when he had every right to get his revenge right then and there. But Tommy would wait. He’d pick his moment. And then he’d strike. When everybody else thought it was all over with, he was just getting started. Their old man used to call Tommy a backdoor bastard. While Sal was kicking in the front door to get his revenge, Tommy was waiting outback to get his. While Sal might have had an audience when he was getting even, Tommy had no such limitations. He never had an audience. Which, their old man concluded, made Tommy far more lethal.

  “I just don’t like how she did you,” Sal said. “That’s all I’m saying here. I liked Grace. I thought she was going to be in it for the long haul, I really did. But her ass didn’t make it midway.”

  “It’s a hell of a life, Sal,” Tommy reminded his brother. “You get in trouble, or Reno or Trina or Jimmy, I have to be there. I’m in it as deeply as whichever one I’m helping. Grace knew that. She ultimately couldn’t handle that.”

  “Bullshit!” Sal shot back. “She knew that going in! Your lifestyle didn’t develop after you married her. It was there before the marriage, it was the same way all the time. What I think happened is that she got what she wanted from you and took off. That’s what happened. She got that business you gave to her, and that pretty baby you gave to her, and she was done with your ass. What she sticking around for the danger for? She didn’t need the danger too! As if we live for this shit. As if we want to bring the danger on. Who does she think we are? A bunch of fucking idiots with a death wish? And the way she and that bastard husband of hers had the nerve to try and restrict your visitations with Desi, claiming you can’t protect her the way they can. Yeah, that bitch is crazy alright. Crazy bitch!”

  Tommy was sorry he ever told Sal about any disagreements he had with Grace. But when they stepped to him at their reception with that supervised visitation suggestion of theirs, it angered him so fiercely that he had to get it off his chest. He couldn’t reach Reno at the time, or Trina, so he unloaded on Sal. He didn’t like to. Sal fancied himself as Tommy’s protector and never took kindly to anybody slighting his big brother. But Tommy had to talk to somebody or he was certain, at the time, he would explode.

  “Where’s Gemma?” he asked Sal, to change the subject.

  “At her parents’ house, where else? She’s entertaining the guests.”

  Tommy smiled. “Her parents are celebrating their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Must be nice.”

  “And you don’t know how pleased they are that you decided to come,” Sal informed him. “We’re all pleased you came. You’re a busy man.”

  “Ah!” Tommy said with a shake of his shoulder. “Bump busy. They’re Gemma’s parents. Salt of the earth people if ever I knew any. I love them too.”

  Sal smiled and reached over and squeezed his brother’s upper arm. Then he began patting that arm, and then his chest. “Damn,” he said. “You’ve been working out. Your pecs didn’t used to be this big!”

  “Jealous are we?”

  “Hell yeah!” Sal responded. “You’re the brains around this joint. I’m the brawn. Don’t you forget that!”

  Tommy laughed. He lost a wife, but he knew he’d never lose his loyal-to-a-fault, beloved brother. That was special too.

  Liz Logan grabbed her luggage off the carousel, pulled up the handle, and began rolling it out of the massive airport. She glanced at her watch. Nearly two already. Which was just great. She was going to be late. She promised Chelsey she would be there for her, for moral support, as she faced that family of hers again. But Liz had to come all the way from Houston, where she’d been on business, and her flight into Indiana had been delayed twice. But since nobody knew she and Chelse were coming anyway, she didn’t see where it would matter. Although she knew it would. It always did when it came to visiting Chelsey’s family.

  “Finally!” a voice said and she turned to the sound.

  Chelsey Jones, rolling her own suitcase, was coming up behind her.

  Liz smiled and hugged her neck. “How long have you been here? Hours?”

  “Forty minutes,” Chelsey admitted. “I had delays too.”

  “Oh good,” Liz said. “Not the delays. But it’s good you didn’t have to wait long.”

  Chelsey smiled. “I got it.”

  “Ready?” Liz asked her.

  “Can I ever be ready for something like this?” Then Chelsey nodded. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.”

  “Let’s get to it then,” Liz said, and they began walking steadily through the airport.

  Chelsey smiled. Talk about a study in contrast. Two people, she felt, could not have looked differently. Whereas Liz was tall and slender, Chelsey was short and almost purposely frumpy. She wore washed-out, faded blue jeans, a big, outside-hanging dress shirt, and red Jordans. Although her hair was naturally long and beautiful, she wore it in a ponytail. Her face, though pretty, bore no makeup. And although Liz was straight and girly and it showed, Chelsey was a lesbian, and that showed too. But no two friends could have ever been closer.

  But as they walked through that airport, it was obvious who the men favored. Not that Chelsey was surprised. She wasn’t. She had a crush on Liz too, and if Liz wasn’t straight she’d be all over her just as hard as the men. What she liked about Liz was how well she took the catcalls and stares. Most women hated it.

  Liz hated it too as she walked through that airport, but she knew how to handle it. She smiled at the various men who gave her that assessing look she knew so well, or gave her an approving nod, or even those rare guys who actually stopped walking to stare at her. It was ridiculous, and she really didn’t like it when they went that far, but she smiled anyway. She knew those guys weren’t coming from any place of malice. So, she figured, why should she?

  She wore a pair of slim-fit trousers, a tucked-in, high collar white blouse, and she sported a short, man-cut afro that looked effortless although she took pains to keep it soft and neat. More than a few of her colleagues said she reminded them of some exotic supermodel, but she dismissed such a comparison. Liz had no interest in being any kind of model, super, role, or otherwise, and she didn’t care to be mistaken for one. But she smiled anyway, thanked them for the compliment, and kept it moving.

  After exiting the airport and handing over their luggage to the cabbie, she and Chelsey plopped down on the backseat of the smelly cab. Then they both pulled out their smartphones and got to work. Liz owned Kutana, a print magazine with a strong internet presence, and Chelsey was her Middle-East bureau chief. Both ladies had been best friends since childhood, when they ran the streets of Rosemont, Indiana as if their lives depended on having fun. They eventually went their separate ways. Liz worked for local affiliates, eventually went national, and ultimately became a war correspondent for CBS before she decided to build her own brand. Chelse worked as a beat reporter for Newsweek, and then Time, and then finally agreed to work for Liz. They knew it could have blown up in their faces, given their close friendship,
but it worked out. For the most part.

  Chelsey stopped checking phone messages and looked out of the cab’s window. She was going home after four years away. Although she could only stay for a couple of days, she knew she needed this break.

  But that didn’t mean she was looking forward to the drama that was sure to come. She wasn’t. She’d rather eat nails.

  But for her mother’s sake, and even her sister Gemma’s, she knew she had to go into the fire at some point. Since Liz agreed to go through it with her, and since she knew Liz would always have her back, she decided it might as well be now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There were wall-to-wall people inside the large, suburban house when Sal and Tommy, with his suitcoat back on, entered the Joneses residence. Rodney and Cassie Jones, Gemma Gabrini’s parents, came hurrying up to Tommy as soon as he arrived. Cassie kissed his cheek, and Rodney shook his hand.

  “It’s so good of you to come, Tommy,” Rodney said.

  “I appreciate the invitation.”

  “I didn’t think you would come,” Cassie said. “I thought Salvatore said you had to go to Rome.”

  “My plane is waiting. I’ll take off later today. But I wanted to drop by and wish you two a very happy anniversary first. Happy thirty-fifth. Thirty-five years. You guys have been married that long? Well one thing’s for sure.”

  “What’s that?” Cassie asked.

  “You certainly are not Gabrinis.”

  They laughed.

  “But hopefully,” Tommy added, “Sal and Gemma reverse the curse.”

  “We will,” Sal said confidently.

  “We heard about Grace’s remarriage,” Cassie said. “I know that couldn’t be easy for you.”

  “She’s happy,” Tommy responded. “That’s what counts.”

  “How thoughtful,” Cassie said.

  “But anyway,” Sal asked, “where’s my wife?”

  “In the kitchen,” Rodney said. “With those loudmouth friends of hers. Every time we throw a party, they come. Whether they’re invited or not, they come.”

  “Come on, Tom,” Sal said. “Let’s go see Gemma. She misses you too.”

  “Oh, wait,” Tommy said, turning back toward the Joneses. “I almost forgot.” He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a small wrapped gift.

  “Oh, Tommy,” Cassie said, “you didn’t have to bring a gift!”

  “Oh, yes you did,” Rodney disputed her, as he gladly accepted the gift.

  Tommy and Sal laughed as they headed for the kitchen. But first they had to make their way through one group after another group after another group. Sal seemed to know everybody, and was introducing his brother as if he was showing off a porcelain doll. It was easily obvious that Sal was very proud of his great looking big brother, and his affection was contagious. Tommy became an instant hit.

  He also became an instant Instagram pic on various females’ social media pages. Their phones were clicking and their hashtags were reading, among other, more graphic things: look what I found at Gem’s parents’ party!

  But those pics came only after the chatter began. As soon as Sal began circulating Tommy around the room, the talk began. And the ladies had similar reactions.

  “Girl, looka there, looka there!” one proclaimed to her group. “That is a gorgeous man over there!”

  “Now that’s what I call good looking. That’s it. That’s it right there.”

  “Damn! That’s a nice sight to behold!”

  “Who is that?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Does anybody know who he is?”

  One man, Gemma’s longtime friend Marvin, slid over toward one group of ladies and smiled. “So what’s the juice this time, girls?” he asked. “Who are you gossiping about this time, and I know you’re gossiping so don’t front?”

  “That guy over there,” one of the ladies said. “With the nice hair. Who is he?”

  “Oh him?” Marvin responded as if it was no big deal. He’d met Tommy before. “That’s Sal’s brother.”

  The ladies were astonished. “Sal’s brother?” one asked. “Get out! His brother is better looking than him! And that’s saying something because, for a white guy, Sal’s hot.”

  “I’m saying,” said another.

  “Wonder if he likes brown sugar the way Sal does?”

  “Brown sugar down the line honey,” Marvin informed them. “I heard the only thing a white woman could do for Tommy Gabrini was get out of his way.”

  They laughed.

  “He’s like Tiger Woods on the black hand side,” Marvin added. “Tiger like’em white, Tommy like’em black.”

  “Um um um,” said another lady, assessing Tommy shamelessly. “He certainly has the look. I’ll bet he’s big too.”

  Marvin agreed. “Sal certainly has to be sizeable or Gemma Jones would have never bothered with him. Not my Gemma! So I’d vote yes. He’s undoubtedly a big’um.”

  And they all laughed again.

  Tommy, however, had no clue he was suddenly the hot topic of conversation inside the Joneses home. He was too busy meeting and greeting and making his way into the kitchen.

  Sal eventually took Tommy’s arm and moved them with more purpose through the thick crowd and finally into the also crowded, but far less congested kitchen. There were a lot of people attending the anniversary party: old, young, and in between. Blacks, whites, and all other races. Rodney and Cassie, Tommy concluded, were an extremely popular couple in suburbia.

  Gemma was leaned over at the center island, sipping wine and laughing and talking with a small group of friends. When Sal and Tommy walked in, she beamed. And stood erect.

  “Well if it isn’t the stranger!” she declared.

  “Hey sis!” Tommy smiled grandly as they kissed on the lips and he pulled her into his arms.

  When they pulled back, it was Tommy’s time to beam. “You look beautiful as ever.”

  “Thank-you,” Gemma responded. “And thank-you so much for coming. It means so much to Mom and Dad.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Tommy responded, meaning it.

  “And I know you can’t stay long. I know you were headed across the pond, but at least you came. How’s Destiny?”

  “You mean my mama?”

  Gemma was confused. “Your mama?”

  “Destiny is my mama,” Tommy explained. “I don’t run anything when she’s around. She’s in charge.”

  Gemma laughed. “Boy quit,” she said and hit him playfully on the arm.

  Tommy leaned over as he eyed a bowl of what looked to him to be a yellowish sauce. “What’s that?”

  “Salsa. It’s my special recipe,” Gemma said proudly. She put a heap of the yellow salsa on a nacho and put it into Tommy’s mouth. Tommy ate the entire nacho. Many of the ladies in the room stared into his mouth.

  “Umm,” he said, nodding his head as he chewed. “Good taste. Very good.”

  Gemma looked at Sal. “Told you!” she said like a kid.

  “What do I know?” Sal asked. “It tasted like shit to me!”

  Tommy laughed. Gemma shook her head and looked at him. “See what I have to contend with day in and day out?”

  “You?” Tommy asked with a shake of his shoulders. “I’ve been dealing with that cantankerous old lovable bastard for well over thirty years! Get in line, sister.”

  “Ha ha very funny,” Sal said.

  Gemma hit her hip against his, forcing Sal to smile. “Okay, it’s a little funny,” he said.

  “That’s my man,” Gemma said, put salsa on a nacho, and attempted to put it in Sal’s mouth.

  But Sal leaned back out of her hand’s reach. “It ain’t that funny,” he shot back.

  “What does he know?” Tommy said as he grabbed a nacho of his own, and dipped more salsa.

  “Tommy!” Rodney said excitedly as he and his wife entered the kitchen. “Where’s Tommy?”

  Tommy looked up. “I am here!”

  Rodney and Cass
ie walked up to him.

  “What’s wrong?” Sal asked. Everybody else might have been lighthearted, but whenever Gemma was anywhere around him he was always on guard. “What’s the matter?”

  “A boat?” Rodney asked Tommy. “Our anniversary present is the title to a boat?”

  Some in the kitchen gasped in surprise, with a few mouthing wow and he’s rich too!

  Tommy smiled. “You and Mom like to go fishing, no?”

  “Yes!” Rodney said. “We love to go fishing. And we have a tiny little boat that we go fishing in. A boat Cass is always complaining is too tiny for, as she puts it, our old asses. But this is a yacht, Tommy!”

  “A yacht?” Gemma asked, surprised too. “Oh, Tommy, you didn’t have to buy them a yacht!”

  “Shut up,” Rodney snapped jokingly at his baby girl. “It’s done now!”

  Tommy and Sal laughed.

  “Thank-you, Tommy,” Rodney added. “You made me a very happy man.”

  “You are welcome, sir,” Tommy replied.

  And they all began laughing and talking even more vigorously. As Tommy stood among Sal’s in-laws and Gemma’s friends and participated in the laughter and conversation, he realized just how much he loved being around these people. That was why he went out of his way to come here. Because they knew what family meant. They knew what thick and thin meant. They knew what better or worse meant. They had something Tommy had been seeking all of his life, but concluded, after his divorce, that he’d never obtain.

  But as soon as he began marinating on such thoughts, Marvin entered the kitchen with a cry that, for some reason, chilled him to the bone . “Mr. and Mrs. Jones!” he yelled. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones!”

  Cassie and Rodney, along with Tommy, Sal, and Gemma, all turned in his direction. “What is it, Marv?” Rodney asked.

  “You will not believe who just walked through your front door!”

  “Who?” Sal asked as he pulled Gemma closer against him.

  “Chelsey,” Marvin said. “Chelsey Jones is in the house!”

  The entire room went silent. And everybody, including Tommy, looked at Rodney and Cass.