by Frank, S. W.
CHAPTER TWO
The rain decided to come down the second Alfonzo exited the office building. When it rained on the island, it heaved buckets and it all poured down on his head. These were torrential tropical rains, random and furious which came without warning. His suit absorbed the worst of it. With his head bent and shoulders hunched, he rushed inside the chauffeured vehicle. He wiped from forehead to chin, using the palm of his hand to get rid of the excess water clinging to his face then reached for a handkerchief to dab at his hair. He nodded to the driver and the car exited the curb, joined the morning traffic leaving the mirrored building behind.
The meeting with the lawyers went well; he’d acquired enough shares in Nexit, a major social networking site. The company began surpassing its competitors in the span of a year. Its newly patented integration system was faster and more reliable than anything on the market. Their embedded security features were tighter than the CIA and aside from aesthetically pleasing visuals, its ease of use and the data storage system were unrivaled in the industry.
Alfonzo reclined, pleased at himself, for in a short span of time he acquired multiple shares in three of the largest and most successful corporations in America, but he wasn’t finished. His New York families infiltrated the Stock Exchange and Global Wallace, an established brokerage firm. Under his direction the Diaz legacy had become a modern breed of Mafiosi. The donations made to political campaigns of his associates helped the majority to gain seats in government and this further sweetened the pot.
Alfonzo listened to the sounds of rain striking the car from every direction, his mind turning from business to family. He was doing it all for them. He didn’t want his son to inherit killing as a means to an end. Sal would have a choice, being born of privilege would give him opportunities Alfonzo never had. He wouldn’t need to hustle on the streets or bloody his hands. No, he’d use his wealth and mind to determine a much nobler life, one of respectability.
Then his thoughts switched to his wife, he detected something amiss. She didn’t have much of an appetite lately and didn’t seem happy. Yeah, she laughed and went through the motions but he wondered if the long hours apart and constant business trips were beginning to affect their relationship again. He’d told her about his plans and initially she seemed okay with it, even encouraged and supported the vision. Now, it appeared she’d lost interest and whenever he tried talking about their successes, she’d fall asleep in the middle of the conversation. He blamed it on fatigue; the kids were a handful, especially the little one. He began to wonder if maybe she were in a seasonal mourning for her parents. She hadn’t really come to terms with the death of her mother and with the holidays approaching, it was understandable. His entire family was gathering for the upcoming wedding of Amelda and Matteo, when he thought about it, there was no one from her side of the family to invite. They were dead.
He blew an exasperated breath; he didn’t know how to make it better. Damn, it felt like he was losing her. Why, he wondered, why now?
Then he got an unexpected call from Teresa who sounded upset, desperate, actually. When he got her to calm down and she recanted what was going on, Alfonzo wound up in New York, standing in the middle of her trashed apartment breathing fire, hours later.
His cousin’s wife had a busted lip and Domingo’s frightened girls were in their bedroom quiet and withdrawn. After giving them hugs and assuaging their fears, Alfonzo went outside and called Domingo. There was no answer and he got in the rental beside Vincent and directed him to a few spots. Finally he caught sight of Domingo’s car outside a strip joint on the west side and he sighed. It was the middle of the afternoon, what kind of shit was that?
When he entered the seedy place, Domingo was seated at the bar, feeling up a dancer in a G-string. Alfonzo became livid and marched over. “Yo, primo let’s talk outside.”
Domingo beamed, “Hey what’s up cuz, when you get here?”
“Let’s talk outside,” Alfonzo seethed as he watched Domingo’s hand sliding up the partially naked woman’s spine.
“Hold up a sec….”
Alfonzo wasn’t in the mood to wait; this was show and tell time. He seized Domingo’s arm and escorted him outside as patrons stared.
“What the fuck you doing, have you lost your goddamn mind Alfonzo?” Domingo exclaimed as he shrugged out of his grasp.
The late October chill settled over New York but the streets remained alive. Halloween items and themes were everywhere. A fun holiday for children to play dress-up and skip around with light hearts, instead Domingo decided to begin the upcoming holiday season by behaving like a donkey!
Cars, people and the ever present sound of police sirens cracked the air. The chill went ignored by Alfonzo. He’d come directly from the warm climate of Puerto Rico and didn’t think about a coat, he was too damn angry to think!
He stepped forward, head tilted sideways, glaring at Domingo, “Talk to me, primo. Let me know what’s going on with you.”
“Man, you come storming up here dragging me outside like trash and expect me to talk to you. Fuck you, cuz. Take your ass back to Bayamón and get the fuck out my face!”
Alfonzo moved within inches of his cousin. They began a heated exchange. “I treated you the way a donkey treats his wife. Tell me primo when did the Diaz’ men start hitting women and scaring kids?”
The statement got Domingo’s attention. Now he understood the nature of the visit. “So, Teresa called you, huh?”
“You prefer the cops who’ll lock you up, is that what you want?”
Domingo’s eyes were shamed and he looked down at his feet, “Nah…nah.”
“That’s a solid chica and the mother of your kids and you bust her face and scare the girls. Why Domingo?”
“Yo, back off me ‘Fonzo. I don’t need you in my face. I get enough of that shit at home.”
“She’s probably calling you out on your crap. Be a man and take it or leave!”
Domingo screwed up his face and angrily replied, “Man, don’t tell me how to handle my wife. Who the hell do you think you are?”
People passed, glanced curiously at the men but continued on their New York way. Alfonzo displayed a mocking grin, “Godfather to your kids or did you forget, cuz?”
Domingo scoffed, “Don’t mean shit.”
Alfonzo grew incensed. Domingo needed to be taught a lesson. Being a father should mean you protect your kids, not emotionally or physically abuse them, same goes for the wife. Men like Domingo got under Alfonzo’s skin. He found them despicable cowards. In Alfonzo’s eyes Domingo had fallen to an all-time low!
Alfonzo chuckled in disbelief and looked away for a second to keep from decking his cousin in the face. He questioned his hearing, “Don’t mean shit, is that what you said?”
“You heard me.”
A thick vein protruded from Alfonzo’s forehead and mandible. Domingo was asking for it. Family, was everything, didn’t he understand? “It might not mean shit to you but I take the role seriously. I guess you thought I’d be an uninvolved godparent, like these fucking by-standers, right? See, I actually care about what happens to those girls. It’s an obligation I take seriously.” Irate, Alfonzo thrust a fist to his chest, “I’m the guardian you appointed to look in on their well-being, when you mess-up I’m gonna’ put you straight, if you abuse them then I’m child protective services, pendejo!”
“I didn’t touch my kids!”
“No, you hit their mom and in my book it’s equally offensive!” He stepped chest-to-chest to his cousin, “Why don’t you swing at me, pretend I’m your wife if it gives you courage.”
Domingo didn’t move. Alfonzo bumped him and Domingo shoved back, “Yo, why you tripping?”
Alfonzo seethed, tapping a finger to his cousin’s forehead, “Because you don’t get it. Those girls love you and you poisoned their innocence. When they grow up and some douchebag smacks them around they might think it’s normal. After-all, daddy hits mommy. Do you get it now, is it sinking in
your thick skull that you never…ever strike a woman or child you low-life sonovabitch?”
Alfonzo deliberately insulted him in public, drawing out the anger, bringing it to the surface. He wanted to leave a lasting impression on his cousin and make him understand there are choices in some situations and on this topic of domestic abuse there were no compromises. Domingo should’ve walked out the door and cooled down; instead he lost control and turned the girl’s sense of security into fear. Their sanctuary was now unguarded, and Alfonzo wasn’t okay with it. He would take up post and bust his cousin’s head if it came to it. One thing’s for sure, when it came to family, he’d never sit idly by and do nothing!
Domingo retreated because he didn’t want to fight Alfonzo. “Chill, primo.”
“That’s what you should’ve done, chilled.”
“Yo, step off, I ‘aint playing, yo!”
Alfonzo advanced, “Oh now you’re exercising restraint, it’s a little late don’t you think?”
Domingo stopped walking, “I ‘aint scared of you primo!”
Alfonzo quickly removed his suit jacket and tossed it to the ground. “Good, don’t be scared and take your shots. I’m in your face nagging, isn’t that what you said Teresa does? She got on your case because you were out all night. Doesn’t sound like nagging to me, sounds like a woman tired of being disrespected!”
Domingo shoved Alfonzo, “Yo, fuck you!”
Alfonzo answered back with a solid blow to Domingo’s mouth. He bust his lip in the same place he struck Teresa. Domingo’s head snapped back and he charged Alfonzo. They crashed against the rental car where Vincent sat and it shook under the force. Vincent stayed in the driver’s seat laughing. He bet his money on Alfonzo. The cousin was all brawn and no brains.
The men scuffled and as Vincent suspected, Alfonzo came out on top. Alfonzo was beating the crap out of Domingo when Vincent noticed a police car fast approaching and honked the horn to get their attention. “Hey the cops are coming. Straighten up fuckers!” He yelled out the window.
They scrambled to their feet a second before the squad car careened to the curb. The officers were out of the vehicle in a flash, “What’s going on here?”
Domingo wiped the blood from his mouth, “Nothing officer. Me and my cousin were just horsing around, why?”
The officers were uncertain on how to respond. They received an anonymous call about two men fighting but they hadn’t actually witnessed the brawl. The mysterious caller as always, wasn’t anywhere around. Legally, their hands were tied unless one of the men chose to confirm they were fighting and seek to press charges. Both men had injuries, the one with blue eyes apparently fared better than the stocky one brandishing a bloody mouth and swollen eye.
An officer turned to Alfonzo, “Is that true?”
Alfonzo’s shirt was torn, a cheek flashed red but his composure was calm. He merely shrugged, “Yep, just horsing around rookie, we do it all the time.”
“All right, you guys get out of here. If I get another call about you two I’m making an arrest for disorderly conduct.”
Domingo saluted and when the police cruiser pulled away, he laughed, “Yo, you lucky they saved your ass, cuz.”
Alfonzo snatched his jacket from the ground, shook it off and put it on. “Talk to me about what’s going on. What’s the real deal?”
Domingo licked the blood trickling from his lip then put a hand to his throbbing eye, “Damn, you were hitting like you meant it!”
“I did.”
“That’s messed up, for real.”
They were face-to-face again. No tension. No anger. Cousins.
Domingo sulked, “I’ve been trying to keep the shop afloat, and the overhead’s a killer. The girls’ private school, mortgage payments and the whole nine I can’t pay for sitting home. This nine to five shit is a different hustle, Teresa can’t seem to understand I gotta be there when the shop opens and stay there until it closes.”
Alfonzo nodded; he understood.
“Teresa, won’t cut me a break. She’s constantly accusing me of cheating ‘cause I got customers blowing up my phone, some of them are chicas. You know how it was at Al’s. It’s busier than ever now, cuz. I’m not gonna make the money unless I make sure the work gets done. I got tired of coming home to the questions and crashed at Raúl’s the other night. It’s been a war-zone eversince.” He shrugged, “I didn’t mean to hit her but she kept coming at me, cursing and throwing pots and shit then I lost it.”
“And now you’re at a strip joint. Smart.”
“It took my mind off my problems.”
“But the problem’s at home.”
“Teresa’s crazy, I wasn’t going home.”
“Call her, apologize.”
“When I’m ready.”
“Don’t take too long.” Alfonzo replied. Listening to Domingo made Alfonzo realize he’d slacked when it came to his cousin. He was always preoccupied with his own mess and left his cousin to fly solo. They were family and he refused to let Domingo struggle alone. Whatever his cousin needed he’d give, money, an ear and a kidney, anything for someone Alfonzo considered a brother.
The chill seeped through Alfonzo’s skin and he put an arm around Domingo’s shoulder, “We’re Diaz’, we don’t beat women. Get cleaned up; make it right with Teresa and the girls. I’ll clear the financial crap. Make sure you patch things up before you come to PR. I really want you and the family there, together, you hear me?”
“I’ll work on it.”
Alfonzo smirked, “You better.”
“Shit,” Domingo grinned, “It’s good to see cuz.”
“Same here but don’t let me come back for this shit again, I might put a serious hurting on you, for real!”
***
Alfonzo arrived home with lofty expectations. All he wanted to do was kiss his kids good-night, climb in bed with his wife and fall his tired ass to sleep. Instead, he noticed Jessica’s car, walked inside the house and found a trio of conspirators waiting.
‘I can’t catch a break today!’
Jessica, Emilio and his wife turned simultaneously in his direction. Whatever prompted this gathering he got the feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
Selange remained seated on the sofa. “Hey, what happened to you?”
He’d changed clothes and cleaned up on the plane but the angry red bruise on his face couldn’t be disguised. He shrugged, “Nothing, what’s going on here?”
Alfonzo’s eyes didn’t miss how tired his wife appeared. She looked under tremendous strain. Could this meeting have anything to do with it, he wondered?
Emilio rose, “I wanted to talk to you and your wife.”
Alfonzo walked into the center of the room, put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, about what?”
Jessica for the first time since he’s known the girl was quiet. Alfonzo’s jawbone clicked tight. He wondered why she needed to hold his wife’s hand. What was so bad she required moral support, or did someone die and they were there to gently break the news? But, no, that couldn’t be it, this involved Emilio which kind of killed the question.
“Jessica and I wanted to tell you we’re a couple.”
Alfonzo’s face tightened. Okay, he figured as much, he wasn’t blind, besides from Emilio’s face he could discern more was coming.
“And we got an apartment together last week.”
Last week, he was slipping, that he didn’t know. Shit was going on right under his nose. No wonder Jessica decided to stay in Bayamón after getting her degree. She got an apartment downtown, near her new job, he knew that much –but he didn’t know she was shacking-up with Emilio.
Selange released Jessica’s hand and went to her husband, “Hun, Emilio and Jessica wanted us to know first about their relationship because they don’t want it to affect Emilio’s job. They’re hoping you’ll listen and not get upset.” Her eyes were on his flashing blues. They were warning signs of his impending loss of control. She could tell, that’s why she stood there,
making sure he didn’t hurt Emilio. “Just listen, okay?”
He relaxed his stance, “I’m listening Emilio, is there more?”
Jessica was up, at her man’s side. Alfonzo and his wife were facing their younger counterparts. He found it an unbalanced face-off because they all knew something which he did not. “Damn people, quit with the episodic build-up and get to the point, for crying out loud!”
“Primo, I’m pregnant.” Jessica said bluntly. “I wanted to come and tell you myself. Emilio hasn’t done anything wrong so don’t be mad at him.”
“How far along are you?”
“About three and a half months.”
Alfonzo’s eyes went naturally to her stomach for visual proof, he couldn’t tell, the cut of the blouse disguised any baby bump. Alfonzo assumed they’d recently started going out, not that they’d been hooking up for…he counted backwards…since the summer…since Miami. He’d been screwing Jessica the whole time, really? Now he was pissed. His fist landed in the young man’s face before Selange blinked. The kid took it, even managed to stay on his feet.
“What the hell you do that for…you’re wrong…you know that?” Jessica exclaimed. She moved closer to her man as if she could protect him from Alfonzo.
“I asked if there’s anything you wanted to tell me months ago, didn’t I Emilio?”
Emilio rubbed his chin, “Yes.”
“And what was your answer?”
“No, everything’s fine.”
“You should’ve told the truth, then.” He looked at Jessica, “I punched your man chica because you’re not a skank he needs to be ashamed of. If he cares about you he shouldn’t give a damn who knows it, including me. Getting you knocked up shouldn’t be the reason he’s fessing-up now, comprende prima?”
“Hun, calmarse. You’re going hard!”
Damn right he was going hard; he’d been in a long meeting this morning, traversed the Atlantic, rumbled with Domingo and came home to more drama. His cousin was pregnant, his aunt and mom were sure to assign blame and they’d point the finger at him. Who cared if Jessica was having a baby, she was an adult and honestly he wasn’t surprised. The lie out of Emilio’s mouth is what triggered his fury. Heck, he was grumpy, hungry and tired!
