Footsteps

by Susan Fanetti

  Yes, but no more than she deserved. She shook her head. That hurt, too.

  “Okay, come on. Get off the floor.” Carmen stood, pulling on her arm, and led her back to her feet and then into a chair. She picked up Sabina’s hand. “He’s upset. When he can calm down, he’ll know it’s not your fault. You did the right thing, Sabina. You did the only thing you could do.”

  “I was to keep him safe.”

  “And you did. In that situation, you did the only thing that would.”

  She and Carmen had already had this talk. She’d also had it with Luca, and Uncle Ben, and Carlo Sr. None of them blamed her. The detectives and police officers who questioned her, they didn’t seem to blame her, either—though the detectives had had some pointed questions about Auberon and her association with the Pagano family. Still, they seemed to be operating on the premise that she might be a connection between the cases, not that she was responsible.

  But those who mattered did blame her—Trey with his terrified eyes, reaching back for her, seeking rescue from his own mother, and Carlo, lost in sea of rage and pain. And herself. She blamed herself, too.

  “Should I go? I should go. He doesn’t want me here.”

  Carmen dropped her hand and sat back. “Sabina, I don’t care what he wants. I care what he needs. If you want to be part of us, then don’t pussy out. We pull together. Are you family or are you not?”

  “Is it not his choice?”

  “Not right now. He’s in no state to make choices, clearly.” She turned to her. “If you care about Trey and Joey, and about Carlo, you stay with the other people who do. Even if it hurts. That’s family.”

  She cared about all of them. She loved every member of the Pagano family, felt close to every one of them, in a way she had not been able to be close to anyone, love anyone, since she had been a teenager.

  Joey…in the furor over missing Trey, the reason they were all meeting in the hospital was getting lost. Joey had been shot in the chest. After Jenny had pulled away with Trey still struggling in her arms, Sabina had forced herself to focus and commit the license plate to memory. Then she’d dropped to her knees at Joey’s shoulder. He’d been unconscious, his breath coming in fading bursts. His t-shirt had already been soaked with blood, and his perspiring skin had been far too pale. Holding his slack, clammy hand, she’d pulled her phone out of the beach tote and dialed 911.

  When help was on the way, knowing that her next call had to be to Carlo, Sabina had simply broken down. She’d managed the call but not coherence. He hadn’t answered, and she couldn’t even remember what she’d said on the message. Then, needing more, needing somebody to help her, she’d called Luca.

  He’d arrived before the ambulance. Kneeling with her at his brother’s unconscious body, he’d pulled the story out of her. And he had handled everything from that point. Sabina had not been strong enough.

  She was not strong enough.

  But she wanted to be. She needed to be.

  “Sabina.” Carmen’s voice broke through her bitter reverie. “Are you here with us? Through it all?”

  “Yes. Unless it causes for Carlo trouble. I don’t want to hurt him more.”

  “You’re not trouble, Sabina. You’re help. He knows it. He’ll see it again. We all see it. Even Pop sees it now.”

  Watching Carlo and his brothers across the room, Carlo with his mouth now bleeding, Luca jabbing him in the shoulder as he talked, Sabina wondered if he would see it—if he could ever again see her as more than the person who let an unstable woman with a gun take his son away.

  All such concerns were set aside when the surgery doors opened and two doctors in green surgical scrubs came out. Sabina and all the Paganos—and the man who’d come with Carlo, who looked vaguely familiar, but whom Sabina was not sure she knew—stood. Carlo Sr. stepped forward, and the family arrayed itself with him, Luca and Carmen at either side of him, John a step behind, Uncle Ben and Uncle Lorrie and their wives at his side, Nick and Mrs. D. back from them. Sabina stayed near her chair. Carlo, too, hung back, the vaguely familiar man with him.

  Sabina couldn’t hear what was being said in the cluster around the doctors, but she saw the reactions of the family. The news was not good. Carlo Sr. dropped his head, and Luca put his hand on his back. Carmen held him. The rest of the family reacted in similar ways.

  Feeling a sick sense of doom, and not sure what to do, Sabina waited, glancing back and forth between the cluster of family and Carlo off to the side. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to catch his eye or not. She feared what she might see if she did.

  As the doctors led Carlo Sr. and Carmen through the doors, Luca broke away from the group and came to her, his brow etched with concern, or maybe with sorrow. He rubbed her arm, a gesture meant to calm, even reassure.

  Before she faced Luca, Sabina saw the Uncles talking to Nick. Nick nodded and left.

  She looked up at the man standing before her. “Luca?” She was afraid to ask a question directly.

  “They don’t know. The bullet nicked some artery in his chest, and he lost a lot more blood than we even knew. His organs started to shut down.” He stared at the door through which his father and sister had gone. “They don’t know. They’re letting us back in recovery in pairs, because he could go at any time. Or he could turn it around. They’re trying to get him stable enough for the ICU. Where the fuck is Rosie?” He spun on his heel. “John—Rosie?”

  John shrugged. “I’ve left messages. Should I just go to her dorm and grab her?”

  “No. You need to be here in case…” Luca didn’t finish. “Fuck. Fuck!”

  “I can go.” The man who’d brought Carlo had stepped forward. “I’ve got Carlo’s car, but I don’t mind going. If you think it will help.”

  Luca thought for a minute. He looked at John, who nodded. “Yeah. If we get ahold of her in the meantime, I don’t want her driving, anyway. So, yeah. Thanks, Pete. It’s a big help.”

  “Not a problem. What dorm?”

  “Emery.”

  The man—Pete, that was Carlo’s business partner—nodded and waved a set of keys at Carlo, who nodded. Then he left.

  Luca wrapped a hand around Sabina’s arm. “Go talk to him. It’s a lot to ask after what he just did, but he’s calmer now, and I think you should talk to him. Can you?”

  “Luca, he…I…I let Trey go. I understand his anger.”

  “You did everything right, Sabina. If anybody fucked up, it was Joe. He was there to protect you. He should have been prepared to do that.”

  “He did protect us—he got between us, and see what happened.”

  Luca made a gesture like he was brushing that topic away. “I’m telling you. Carlo needs you. He needs his kid. He’s fucked up right now. What he did to you was fucked up, but it doesn’t mean he really blames you. People think he’s the good one, the reasonable one, and he is—but he has a trigger about protecting his family. He goes a little Hulk smash. But he knows it’s not your fault. Don’t let guilt fuck everything up worse than it is.”

  Carlo Sr. and Carmen came into the waiting room. Luca let her arm go. “I’m gonna go see my baby brother, maybe say goodbye. Please. Get him into that room if you can. If Joey goes and Carlo doesn’t see him…fuck. Try for me, gorgeous.”

  Sabina nodded. “I will try.” Luca kissed her cheek and followed John through the doors.

  Carmen had taken her father to the side and was sitting with him. They were talking quietly; then Carmen looked across the room at Carlo, and then at Sabina. She said nothing, and she didn’t move, but Sabina could sense what was on her mind. She could almost hear Carmen’s voice in her head: Are you going to him or not?

  Was she? Were they right? Could she help Carlo at all, or would she only hurt him more?

  He was sitting alone on one side of the waiting room, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor between his legs. He seemed the picture of desolation. He was too alone—in this time full of family, coming togeth
er as Carmen had said, his aloneness seemed all the more bleak. And that made up Sabina’s mind for her. He was too alone. She stood and crossed over to him.

  When she sat down next to him, he didn’t move or acknowledge her in any way.

  “Carlo?”

  Nothing. With her heart in a knot, she reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “Carlo. I am so sorry. I know it’s not much to say, but I wish I had done differently something.”

  Then he spoke. His voice was low, barely audible, but her focus on him was complete, and she heard him clearly. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  She was a little relieved by that. Perhaps his blame of her was over? “I’m fine, truly. I understand.”

  “You shouldn’t be so fucking understanding. You shouldn’t just forgive something like that. Stand up for yourself.” He still hadn’t looked up.

  His words cut, and Sabina almost pulled away. Then she caught Carmen’s eye. She looked exhausted and sad, but still she was focused on Carlo and Sabina, even as she held her father’s hand, as if she were willing Sabina her own strength.

  “I am standing up for myself. I’m standing up for you.” A thought came over her, a certainty, perhaps riding on the back of Carmen’s lent strength. “I did what I did because it was the only thing that could save him. Now we have to find him. I understand your anger, Carlo. But I am not to blame. I would have died for him, but I would not see him killed in my arms. We have to find him now, Carlo.”

  At that, Carlo turned his head. His expression was abject. “He’s gone. He’s gone. Bina, he’s gone.”

  She heard his need; Carmen and Luca had been right. She heard his need, and in it she found the full reservoir of her strength. His fear and loss were naked before her, and she came off her seat and went to her knees before him. She pushed her way between his legs and lifted his head in her hands. “No, Carlo. No. He’s away. We’ll get him back. Uncle Ben will get him back.”

  Finally, he met her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have known.”

  “How could you have? Who could imagine this? Carlo, is there anything to be gained like this? Finding blame? Is it help?” He dropped his eyes, and she lifted his chin, as he had done to her many times, and made him look at her. “There is blame, but we need not go looking. There is blame one place only. Yes? On her only. Now, the police are searching. And I think your uncles are searching, too, yes? You will have Trey back.”

  Ice seemed to cover his eyes, and something about his face altered subtly. His expression went from despairing to intent. “I’m going to kill her. If I have the chance, I’m going to kill her.”

  Sabina was hardly shocked by the statement, and she believed it to be true. She hoped it would not come to that. She hoped that someone else, not Carlo, would take care of Jenny. She wanted her dead, too. Remembering the look in her eyes, remembering Trey’s fear, remembering the sight and smell of the gun that had shot and possibly killed Joey pushed up against Trey’s little head, mussing his blond hair, Sabina had no qualms at the thought that the woman who’d done all that would very likely die, no matter how she was treating Trey now. But she didn’t want it to be Carlo who did it. She thought he wouldn’t be able to carry such weight well. She tried to redirect him.

  “Carlo. Do you know about Joey?”

  “He’s gone, too?”

  “No. But he’s not good. They are unsure if he will stay. The doctors say that family should go back soon to see him. Do you want to go back?”

  “To say goodbye.”

  “I think yes.”

  “I did that, too. Put my dumbass baby brother in that position. I knew better.”

  “Carlo, enough. Enough. You are like Atlas, carrying the world on your shoulders. You aren’t responsible for everyone. Joey is no child.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “No. He understands, I think, more of the world than his family credits him.” She sighed, feeling impatient. “But that is for another time. I think you’ll regret if you don’t go back.”

  “Are you staying, even after I—”

  She cut him off, no more willing to hear his guilt than his brother and sister had been willing to hear hers. “Of course. I say I understand. I love Trey. I love Joey. I love your whole family. Your world is becoming my world. And I love you beyond reason. So I stay. Maybe if you try to make me go, even then I stay.”

  “I don’t want you to go.” Finally, he sat up, and he took her hands in his. “I love you, Bina. Will you come back with me?”

  “If that’s what you want, yes.” It made her feel anxious, the thought of going back to see Joey in the state he must be in. But she would stay at Carlo’s side as long as he wanted her there. She stood, still holding his hands, and he stood with her. Then he laced the fingers of one hand with hers, and they headed toward the doors through which they would find his youngest brother.

  Luca and John had come back into the waiting room and were sitting with their father and sister. As Carlo and Sabina stood, Luca gave her a little, approving smile. On his sad face, the effect was especially poignant.

  Uncle Ben stepped into their path before they had gone more than a few steps. “Junior.”

  Carlo’s fingers tightened around Sabina’s. “Uncle.”

  “When you come back, we need to speak.”

  “Yes, sir. We do.”

  Uncle Ben put his hand on Carlo’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake. “Our reach is far, nephew. Farther than she can go.”

  Carlo nodded but said nothing. Then Uncle Ben stepped to the side, and Carlo and Bina continued on toward the doors.

  A nurse was waiting just inside the doors; she led them past a large room full of gurneys to a small private room, where Joey lay, buried under a thick padding of blankets, with tubes and wires connecting him to several machines. The room was dense with the myriad sounds of the machines—pumps and grinds and beeps. The beep of the heart monitor seemed too fast. Sabina was surprised—she’d expected his heart to be beating too slowly, if he was so close to death.

  “God.” Carlo stopped just in the doorway, blocking the nurse from closing the door. She stepped out and left it open.

  Sabina held his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “He is strong, yes?”

  Carlo nodded. Then he pulled his hand from hers and stepped to the gurney. Sabina stayed where she was, knowing instinctively that, though Carlo wanted her here with him, he would not want her to join him at Joey’s side now.

  For whole minutes, Carlo stood silently at the gurney and looked down on his brother. Sabina stayed where she was by the door, thinking little, feeling much—sorrow and compassion. Worry and fear. Love. So much love. Her heart filled and stretched with love. Even in this moment, her life now was so much better than her life before, because of this love.

  “God, Joe,” Carlo’s voice was a hoarse rumble. “God. What were you thinking? You never think. You always just expect everything to be okay. Well, it’s not. Things are never okay. And there’s not always going to be somebody around to make it okay. You gotta learn that, Joey. Until you learn that, you’re never going to get by on your own. We can’t bail you out of this one.” His voice cracked, and Sabina almost went to him. But he cleared his throat and went on. “I’m not saying goodbye. Fuck that. Pull your ass up, kid. Fight for yourself. No one can make this better but you. Stand up for yourself.”

  Then he reached back, his hand spread toward Sabina. Understanding the gesture, she stepped forward, took his offered hand, and let him pull her to his side. She kissed his shoulder and leaned her head there.