by E. R. Fallon
“In an hour.”
“How about then? There’s a late-night movie playing at the cinema.”
“I’m not sure,” she replied.
“Why, what’s there not to like?”
“You’re pretty confident,” she said.
“In my line of work, I ought to be.”
“All right, I’ll go with you. But if I have a bad time I’m leaving. I’m not staying out of politeness.”
“It’s a deal. I like a blunt woman.” Johnny smiled. “I’ll be waiting outside in an hour.”
“All right, I’ll see you then. Meet me in the back.”
After Johnny left, Violet approached the bar.
“What was he doing in here again?” she asked Camille.
It really wasn’t any of Violet’s business, but it was her pub so Camille replied, “He was just saying hello.”
“I should have thrown him out,” Violet remarked. “Next time, maybe I will.”
Camille didn’t dare tell her about her date with Johnny. “Why? To protect me? Why do you care so much anyway, Violet? I get why your mother does, but why do you?” Camille felt that Violet might just be trying to cause trouble for her.
“Because you work here, and I thought we were friends.” Violet sounded hurt.
Camille looked at her. “I’m sorry.”
Violet nodded but didn’t say anything. Perhaps Camille had been too harsh. A customer ordered another drink and Camille had to step away. She watched Violet walk away to speak with her mother, who had returned from upstairs. Violet pointed at Camille and Catherine shook her head. Violet had probably told her mother about Johnny’s visit. Oh, well, Johnny seemed like an all right guy, and she didn’t care what they thought, but at the same time she knew they could make things hard for her.
Max came down from upstairs and joined Violet and her mother in staring at Camille. Why were they talking to Max about it? To hell with all of them. If she wanted to spend time with Johnny that was her choice.
The hour seemed to take forever to pass, and by the time Camille had finished her shift she felt so tired that she somewhat regretted agreeing to the date, when all she really wanted to do was go home and sleep.
Camille didn’t have time to go home and change for her date. She sneaked out of the back and Johnny wasn’t there. She looked around for him, but no luck. Just great. I’ve been stood up.
She started to walk home.
“Camille,” Johnny called out from down the street. “Wait!”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. Then she stopped. After all, she had left the pub a little early so technically he wasn’t late.
“Hi,” she said.
“Were you leaving?” He smiled.
“Yeah, I thought you were late.” Camille laughed, and so did Johnny. “I thought you stood me up.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I thought that maybe you were ditching me,” he said.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” she said. “I’m not great at trusting people.”
“It’s okay, I’m not either.”
They began to walk to the cinema a few blocks away.
“Do you know what’s playing?” she asked him.
“I heard that Back to the Future is playing. Have you ever seen it?” Johnny asked.
Camille shook her head. “But I heard it supposed to be good.”
They passed a couple of restaurants that were closed for the night, but the air still smelled of the food prepared there earlier. The heat made it difficult for Camille to talk and walk at the same time, but she tried anyway.
“Did you grow up in this neighborhood?” Johnny asked her.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I grew up in Brooklyn. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked.
“No, I’m an only child. You?”
“I have a sister, but we’re not very close. She still lives in Brooklyn.”
The traffic had thinned out given the late hour but there were still cars driving past them as they walked.
“My father died when I was a baby,” Camille told him, perhaps unconsciously she hoped he would realize his father’s possible connection to hers.
Johnny stopped walking. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know him at all, just from what my mother tells me.”
They continued walking.
“What about your parents?” she asked him, but she already knew.
“My father died when I was a kid, but older than a baby,” he replied. “My mother is still alive, but we aren’t that close. Are you close with yours?”
Camille nodded.
He had to have been the son of her father’s friend. She didn’t know why she kept the revelation a secret from him, the right time to tell him just never seemed to come.
“In the pub, you said you wanted to avenge your father, what did you mean by that?” she asked him.
“Just what I said, Irish gangsters killed my father.”
Camille paused. “So you plan to kill them?”
“If I can.”
His blunt answer should have shocked her, but it didn’t. They walked in silence for a while, and soon they made it to the cinema and bought tickets for the midnight showing from the box. Johnny insisted on paying for hers despite Camille’s protest. He also bought popcorn and sodas.
“I enjoy treating you,” he said.
Camille was sort of relieved at seeing a movie for their date because that meant that they didn’t have to talk for a while, because she didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep the secret from Johnny, or when would be the right time to tell him. She didn’t want him to be reminded of his father, because that seemed to bring out a sadness in him.
Halfway through the movie, the popcorn bag was empty, and Johnny looked over at her in the crowded theatre and smiled then took her buttery hand and held it in his. Camille sipped her soda and kept her hand there until the ending credits rolled. He waited until everyone else left the room to kiss her, which was the first kiss she’d had since Billy.
“When can I see you again?” he asked after the usher had asked them to leave the theatre.
“Soon,” Camille said, and gave him her phone number.
Neither of them had a paper or pen.
“I’ll remember it,” Johnny said, but Camille didn’t know if he would. Perhaps she’d never see him again. It wasn’t like he was welcome at the pub.
He smiled. “Let me walk you home.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She didn’t trust herself enough to resist him once he was at her door.
“Please,” he said. “It’s late, and this is New York.”
“All right.”
They were some of the last ones to exit the theatre building and a crowd had gathered outside on the street to watch a young guy in a baseball cap, a bright top, and jeans break-dancing on the sidewalk. Loud music played from a radio on the sidewalk near him. The kid was very talented, and people cheered and whistled to encourage him to keep going. A few people left dollar bills in his hat on the sidewalk. Johnny and Camille stopped to watch for a few moments.
“Hey, this guy is pretty good,” Johnny said to her with a smile and she nodded in agreement, mesmerized.
After a few minutes the kid stopped, and a couple asked him when his next show would be. He shrugged and replied he wasn’t sure. When the sidewalk cleared, the kid walked up to Johnny and Camille, the only ones remaining.
“Hey, man, this your girl?” he asked Johnny as he looked at Camille.
“I hope she will be,” Johnny replied with a grin.
“You should hope so man, she’s fine.” The kid grinned. “Rafael sent me to come get you. Some of our guys got into a fight.”
“With each other?” Johnny scowled.
“Si. Rafael had to fire his gun to break it up.”
“What was it about?” Johnny asked.
The kid shrugged. “They were squabbling over something stupid.”
/> Johnny shook his head. “They’re acting like a bunch of cowboys.”
“Anyway, Rafael called a meeting and he sent me to come get you,” he said, again.
Johnny looked at Camille and apologized. “I have to go deal with this.” He looked at the kid. “Walk her home, will you?”
He nodded, and Johnny hugged Camille goodbye, his arms felt strong around her and he smelled faintly of cologne, then he took off down the street.
“Where do you live?” the kid asked as she watched Johnny leaving.
“Not far,” she replied. “What’s your name?” she asked him.
“Pedro,” he said. “Yours?”
“Camille.”
They shook hands.
“Do you work for Johnny?” she asked him.
“Yeah, something like that.”
They’d started to walk toward her apartment building, with him carrying the radio.
“How do you know him?” Pedro asked. “If you don’t mind saying. Johnny wouldn’t like me bugging you.”
“It’s okay,” Camille said. “I haven’t known him very long. We only met the other day. He came into the pub where I work.”
“Are you a waitress?”
“No, a bartender.”
“Johnny’s a good guy,” Pedro said. “I like him a whole lot better than Rafael, but don’t tell anyone that.” He smiled.
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Who’s Rafael?” she asked.
“Johnny’s number one guy, but I think he’d like nothing more than to be Johnny. Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
“I won’t. How long have you known Johnny?” she asked him.
“Since I was in diapers,” he said with a laugh.
“Really?”
“Yeah, our mothers were friends when they were girls. Johnny sort of looked out for me over the years. He’s like a big brother to me.”
“So, you think he’s a good guy?” Camille asked him.
“Johnny? Yeah. He’s the greatest. He’d be embarrassed if he knew I told you that ‘cause he’s kinda shy when it comes to stuff like that, but he’s the man.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Then she asked him something just in case, because she didn’t like surprises. “He doesn’t already have a girlfriend, does he?”
Pedro seemed to hesitate and for a moment Camille thought he’d answer yes. Then he shook his head. Still, it seemed like he wanted to tell her something.
“What is it, Pedro?” she asked.
“Nothing. He hasn’t got one. I have a girlfriend.”
“What’s she like?”
“Her name’s Fiona. What, you thought her name was gonna be Maria or something?” Pedro grinned when he saw the look on her face. “She’s Irish. Her father would probably kill me if he knew we were dating.”
“Do you live in this neighborhood?” she asked him.
“Yeah, but no matter where I was, he’d still find me. He isn’t a wise guy or anything like that, he’s an electrician. But he doesn’t like Cubans.”
“That’s awful,” Camille said. “I hope it works out for you two.”
“Thanks. I want to marry her someday.”
“You already know that at your age? What are you, fifteen?”
“Sixteen,” he said.
“You should be thinking about school.”
“I might leave school to marry her. She’s a year older than me and wants to finish.”
“Pedro, you shouldn’t leave school.” Camille stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “You can still be with her and finish school.”
“How do you know? You don’t even know me, no offense.”
“Because I saw your dancing, and with your talent, if you finished school, you could go places.”
“I already work with Johnny and Rafael.”
“Places beyond that,” Camille said.
“No one ever told me that before, so thanks. But I like where I already am.”
“Do your parents know you aren’t planning to finish school?”
“My dad died when I was little.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I lost my father when I was really young also. What about your mother, what does she think?”
“She doesn’t know. I have brothers and sisters who are younger than me so she’s busy with them all the time.”
“All the more reason to set a good example for them,” Camille said.
“My mother would like you,” Pedro said with a smile. “I think I’ll tell Johnny that I approve of you.”
“Thanks,” Camille replied with a smile. They passed by a group of teenagers running around in the street, laughing, as they neared her apartment building. “My place is just down the street. I can walk the rest of the way if you want to go. You really should be at home this time of the night. Your mother will probably worry.”
“She won’t notice,” Pedro said. “I promised Johnny I’d walk you home, so I better come with you the rest of the way.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
“Johnny will be angry with me if I don’t, so I have to. Okay?”
Camille nodded.
They reached her building and said goodnight. The street was very quiet that time of the night, and the streetlamps cast an ethereal glow on the sidewalk. Pedro stood there waiting as she walked up the steps. Camille turned around.
“You can leave, you know,” she said.
“Johnny would want me to make sure you got inside okay.”
Camille smiled to herself at the importance he gave the matter. She walked inside all the way and then through the small, narrow window at the side of the door, watched him leaving holding the radio.
6
Early the next morning, Camille’s phone rang while she was still sleeping. She rolled over in bed and reached to answer it. She checked her clock and saw that she had another hour of sleep left before she had to rise to run some errands before going to work. There was only one person who could be ringing her at this hour.
“Sweetheart, how are you?” her mother asked on the other end.
“I was still asleep,” Camille replied.
“You should get up earlier. Getting too much sleep is just as bad as not getting enough,” Sheila said, and Camille had to smile at her mother’s advice.
“I went to bed late last night.”
“You were working late?”
“Not exactly.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I went out with someone after work.”
“A friend?”
“No, a date.”
Her mother paused. “With Billy?” Hope lifted her voice.
“No, Ma. Billy and I are done, you know that.”
“Then who did you go out with?”
“His name’s John, Johnny.”
“Last name?”
“Johnny Garcia.” Then she said, “I think he’s the son of Dad’s friend.” Sheila was so quiet on the other end that Camille said, “Hello?”
“His son? What are you talking about?” Sheila finally spoke.
“I’m pretty sure that Johnny Jr., is the son of Dad’s friend Johnny Garcia, you know, the one you told me about?”
“You really think he is?”
“Yeah, he has to be.”
“Camille, you shouldn’t get involved with him.”
“What are you talking about?” Camille couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice. First the McCarthys had given her trouble about Johnny, and now her mother. “Why would you say that when you don’t even know him?”
“Trust me, it’s for the best.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s for the best.”
“Tell me what you mean. You don’t know him, or do you?”
“I don’t.”
“But you knew his father?”
“Not really. If he’s even his son.”
“I think he is.”
“What’s he do for a living anyway? His father was in a gang.”
/> “Like my own father,” Camille retorted. “It’s no wonder I’m attracted to him,” she snapped back. But she didn’t answer her mother’s question because she didn’t want her to judge Johnny. “I had a nice time, in case you’re wondering.”
“I’m not saying he isn’t a fun guy.”
“He’s a good guy, he isn’t just ‘fun’.”
“Honey, see it from my point of view for a second—is he a gangster like his father?”
“Dad was one and you married him.”
“So, the answer is yes. But before you accuse me again of being a hypocrite, the reason I think you should stay away from him isn’t that. You need to trust me about this, Camille. There’s a history there that you don’t know about, there are things I’ve never told you.”
“Did something happen between Dad and his father?”
“I don’t have anything to say,” Sheila replied.
“There is something, but you’re not going to tell me?” Camille asked in exasperation.
“Sweetheart, there are some things about your father that are best you don’t know. You don’t need to know everything about him.”
Camille took her mother’s words to mean that the secret would be devastating to her.
“Trust me on this one,” Sheila said. “Leave Johnny alone. It’s better if you two don’t carry on. There are lots of other guys out there.”
“Yeah, but none of them are like him.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe you can call Billy and see how he’s doing?”
“I know you liked him but please don’t keep bringing him up, we’re through.”
“What you had with Billy will never be over,” her mother insisted. “There’s always a second chance.”
Camille checked the time. “I have to take care of some things before work.”
“Okay,” Sheila said. “I didn’t mean to spoil your day. You were excited about your date and I understand why. But there’s a history, and it’s more complicated than you know.”
“He and Dad were friends, what more is there to know? How I am supposed to understand when you won’t tell me anything?”
“There are some things you don’t need or want to know. Trust me.”
Whatever it was, it was momentous. A lump formed in Camille’s throat and she couldn’t speak. Her mother said goodbye and Camille hung up the phone. Just what was the secret between her father and Johnny’s?
