“It will be like your friends, like Ali and Griffin. Like Gillian and Will,” she explained.
Ricardo had spent considerable time around other Team families, but Fredo could see he still didn’t have the concept of a little brother or sister. Thinking about it now brought Fredo even more pain.
He discovered he’d lapsed into daydreams in the warm sunlight when he heard the little bell over the doorway at the gym. Without looking up, he knew it was Coop, because the shadow that fell over him also covered most of the corner of the place.
“Impressed am I,” Coop said in his Yoda impersonation.
Fredo continued pumping, and then handed the barbell to his buddy. “Just trying to keep up.”
“So you still having trouble sleeping?” Coop set down his bag, removed his warmup top and sat next to Fredo. The care and concern, even tenderness Coop showed him was normally something he could joke about, but today, Fredo was numb. He needed a whole day, maybe a whole week, to figure out how he really felt. Until then, he was a lethal combination of emotions on an inverted plane, where joy caused him pain and anger settled him down.
He’d have to be careful. They’d been trained to recognize these signs. It was a form of PTSD when a Team guy couldn’t deal with his family in an appropriate way. There wasn’t anything appropriate about being depressed that Mia was pregnant.
He wasn’t worried he’d do anything dangerous, but he just couldn’t process the fact that Mia had gotten pregnant. And the child was not, could never be, his.
Coop wisely stood up when he saw Fredo wasn’t interested in talking.
“You guys coming to the barbeque Saturday?” Coop was stretching his long arms overhead and rolling his head from side to side. He lunged into thigh stretches before he sat facing the machine and began the overhead pull downs.
“I’m going to miss it. Collins has me going up to Sonoma County for a couple of days. I’m supposed to talk to the detectives who worked the Zapparelli Winery explosion.”
“Really? Why didn’t I hear that?”
Fredo had no problem lying to him. He needed to get away from all of them. Mia would be telling everyone today. He didn’t want to be there when everyone started toasting him, patting him on the back and looking right into his eyes to see the joy was missing there. There was no escape from this community. There was no way these men he had fought with and nearly died with would miss what was going on with him. And Cooper would guess it in a heartbeat and would go digging with a dull spoon until his chest was a bloody mess.
“Mia and Ricardo going?”
Fredo shrugged and pretended to wipe down his neck but the sweat had long dried in the sun. He wished he was alone. He needed to be alone.
“So, asshole. You tell her yet?” Coop said in his casual drawl, turning around on the machine seat to face him.
Those were the words that launched Fredo over the edge like jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge. On his feet, he grabbed Cooper’s tee shirt, pulling the giant’s torso and face within inches of his own. Cooper’s eyes opened in shock and Fredo was grateful for the hesitation that shock created. It gave him enough time to push off the giant and get more than swinging or grabbing distance away.
“Fuck sake, Fredo. What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“Don’t talk to me about that shit.”
“That’s fucked up, man.” As Cooper stared up at something behind the display, Timmons came over with his spray bottle and a towel, discreetly listening for something he should not know about.
Fredo and Cooper were always joking with each other, but never angry. And Fredo had nearly given his best friend a punch that would have been hard to cover up. But instead, Fredo forced his arms down to his sides, flexing and unflexing his hands, grinding his teeth and trying to find something he could kick, hit or throw. He picked up the barbell, and Coop was immediately on him.
Timmons ran up behind and had the barbell removed from his grasp in two seconds. The spray bottle was at his feet, contents leaking out onto the rubber mats.
Fredo’s two friends held him until he released his jaw, took a couple of deep breaths and dropped his shoulders. “I’m good,” he whispered, nodding.
Carefully, Coop removed his hold on Fredo’s arm and shoulder, his other arm coming from around Fredo’s waist, taking a step that allowed a foot gap between their bodies.
With some of his tension waning, Fredo rolled his neck and shoulders and adjusted his balance. They stood before him, not saying a word, doing him the honor of coming clean on his own. But Fredo didn’t want to tell the whole world. He didn’t even want to tell Coop what was really eating him. He eyed Timmons in a stare-down. Their former handler lowered his gaze and went back to work spraying cleaner on the equipment and quietly moved away.
So that left Coop, his hands on his hips.
“I gotta keep it tight, Coop. I’m not telling anyone about my issue. But Mia came home last night and told me she’s pregnant. And Coop, there is no fuckin’ way it’s mine.”
“Maybe things reversed.”
“Impossible, Coop. I retested. They told me no fuckin’ way.”
“So how’s she acting?”
“She’s on cloud nine. She’s beautiful. My God, Coop, my wife’s the most beautiful fuckin’ thing in the whole world, and some other guy knocked her up.”
“That can’t be.”
“Remember what I said? I got re-tested. They said no way.”
“So get re-tested again.”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?”
Fredo held up his thumb and index finger, measuring something smaller than a molecule. “I got a tiny grain of hope that it’s mine. Some million to one thing I’m holding on to. I’m gonna pretend she’s pregnant with my fuckin’ dented headed sperm.”
“But don’t you want to know?”
“No. I’m gonna cling to that belief. If I go get tested and they tell me I’m still sterile, then I’ll know she did it—”
Fredo whipped around, showing Coop his back as he ground his teeth, picked up his towel and threw it at the front of the gym. Once sure that he wouldn’t break out into a little boy cry, he resumed his stance in front of his best friend.
“I’m gonna work hard on it until I believe that fairy tale. I’m gonna pretend I fathered that kid, because that’s the right thing to do. But I gotta get adjusted to the idea. She’s being the best actress in the world, trying to make me feel like a million bucks. I have to match that act, and right now, I can’t do it. I need time. I need a couple of days to clear my head. I need to figure out who she screwed first. And then, Coop, swear to God, I’m gonna kill him.”
“You want company? I mean with the couple of days to go clear your head. Not sure I wanna go kill someone.”
“I’m horrible company. Horrible.”
“But you want my horrible company or not, asshole?”
“Sure. Why not? How could things get any worse?”
Fredo knew his words wounded Coop, but he could also tell by the way the guy squinted at him that he was fully in control, that he understood Fredo’s pain and the need for just brotherhood stuff. Besides that, Coop’s armor was strong. He’d be prepared for whatever shit Fredo would throw at him.
Coop started out raspy, choosing his words carefully. “Well, on that getting worse shit? She could be pregnant by a zombie and that kid she births could eat Ricardo. Now that would be some serious shit—”
Fredo reached for the towel, but he couldn’t get it in time, so he stood right in front of Coop and shouted, “Shut The Fuck Up!!” The visions of all those toddlers in his dream were too zombie-like for his own tastes.
The room went deathly silent. Timmons didn’t make a sound. Fredo’s outburst was so loud, an older lady jogging down the Strand jumped and then walked in front of Gunny’s Gym window. Cooper revealed a perfectly formed shit-eating grin.
“Okay.” Coop began, glancing sideways. “I’m going to go home and pretend you
didn’t say that. I’m going to tell Libby I’ll be with you and I’ll tell her, what? We’re up in Healdsburg?” he finished as he rolled his shoulders and extended his palms.
Fredo nodded.
“Okay, man. I gotta go check out my tourist wardrobe. I gotta fuckin’ dress up like a fuckin’ yuppy. We’re gonna go wine tasting!”
Chapter 6
‡
FREDO AND COOP stopped by the Center before heading up the freeway for the ten-hour trip to Sonoma County. Reconstruction had been going well. Like before, when the gang who used to tag the buildings set fire to one of the classrooms, the community rallied together and several local contractors and business owners jumped in to donate money and services. They wouldn’t have enough to finish everything, but Fredo was confident they’d get there with fundraising activities. The publicity of the fire and the devastatingly poor community surrounding the Center made for great news, which brought in donors from all over the world.
“This place is going to be better than before, Fredo.” With his hips slanted, hands resting gently over his khakis where a belt would have been, Coop shook his head in amazement.
Fredo was grateful he’d have something like this to occupy his time away from Mia when he got back from the trip. Every day he used to thank his maker for sending Mia into his life, and now every day that thought sent an arrow through his chest.
But he knew it wasn’t healthy to walk around in such fear and dread. So this would give him a legitimate excuse to feel happy until the rest of it could be resolved. But right now his stomach felt like it hadn’t digested Thanksgiving Dinner—from last year.
“What’s that?” Coop pointed to the rounded framed wall of the new mini-auditorium. The kids were going to have a state-of-the-art sound and recording studio, all donated by a country band from Nashville who heard about the Center. One of the returning SEALs, who was now making documentaries, had been hired to teach filmmaking and drama to the local children. Phones were ringing off the hook from parents of kids from wealthier districts of San Diego County who wanted to attend. Best thing about the whole project, there would be no debt, which meant they could afford to pay some decent salaries.
“We can use this building partially for Amornpan’s dancing classes,” Fredo remarked. He was in awe at how fast everything was progressing.
“Need to get Jameson in here to give some concerts then.”
“Not sure we can convince him, but he did say he’d give guitar lessons. He’s great with kids.”
Julio showed up just as Fredo and Coop were headed to Coop’s Hummer.
“Hey there, ghost,” Fredo said to the youth.
“Nothing for me down here. I’ve offered to help them, but these contractors aren’t interested.”
“You should just concentrate on your school. When the holidays come around next summer, Julio, you could do so much around here.”
“Whatever. Just tryin’ to help.” Julio shrugged.
Fredo knew he was irritated. Consistency was non-existent in the kid’s life, and Fredo felt bad for him. But there wasn’t anything more he could do. He saw the kid had something on his mind.
“Listen, Julio. You know not everyone understands you guys. We got white guys down here, in construction, and they’re, well they’re sort of afraid. They don’t trust you yet. In time, maybe they will. You gotta start out slow, give them a chance.”
“You didn’t.”
“Well, that’s because where I grew up makes this place look like a country club, Julio. Give people time. Most everyone wants to be decent. Just be cool, and eventually it will work out, man.”
The kid rolled his shoulders in a half shrug. “I gotta tell you some things.”
“Shoot.”
“You talk to the police?” Julio had that sideways glance that told Fredo he was more interested in his answer than he wanted to let on. The gang kids all had that casual air the belied something deeper and usually sinister. Julio had fallen into a sullen manner of some kind and appeared to have a blackening mood. He even started to walk like some of the other kids. That gait their fathers and brothers taught them, the prison walk. That worried Fredo, so he’d have to be careful.
“Not anymore. Not much anyway. Corcoran as much as told me if we didn’t hear anything in a week or two, nothing would probably ever be done. We can’t expect miracles here.”
“They aren’t doin’ anything,” said the boy.
“Well, they’re busy all over the City. I’m sure they feel understaffed, from what I hear from some of my friends on the force.”
“We’re not important to them.” Julio’s eyes were downcast. Fredo was right to be concerned and wished he didn’t see the new change in him.
“Don’t say that, Julio. You must respect those guys. They have a tough job. And those contractors? They just don’t know you.”
“No one has seen anyone in uniform since the blast. It’s like they’re staying away.”
“Why? You didn’t really expect they’d find the kids, did you?”
Now Julio seemed reluctant to open up. Fredo glanced up at Coop, who was slow to catch on, but he jumped like he’d been hit with lightning when he realized it was his cue to exit the stage.
“Oh, I forgot to get that card I came down here for, Fredo. If you’ll excuse me?” Coop smiled a little wider for Fredo’s benefit.
While watching Coop jog toward the crew of framers, Julio was fussing with his toe in the dirt. He wasn’t meeting him eye-to-eye. The walk, his stance, everything he saw in Julio was more like the gang kids.
“You okay, Julio? Everything okay at home?”
The boy stiffened, bracing against something. Fredo began to smell fear. Maybe that’s what had been bottled up and was causing him pain. He wasn’t yet a man, and no doubt he was feeling the burden of trying to protect his sister and mother. It was an impossible task, especially for someone so young. It broke Fredo’s heart that there wasn’t a clear way to get him out of the neighborhood. Fredo wished he could save them all.
“Everything’s fucked, man.” Julio still didn’t look at him.
“You gotta look me straight in the eye when you say that.” Fredo made it a whisper so no one would have a chance of hearing it.
Julio nodded and gave him a quick, angled stare, but then diverted his eyes and went back internal. Fredo was going to say something, but stopped when Julio began to talk, finally.
“Remember when I told you those guys were hanging around Lupe? You know, that night?”
“Sure do.”
“I thought they was just punks. New punks come in from LA or somewhere. But they bought the Christian CME church two blocks over on Clovis.”
“Wait a minute. You mean those young assholes bought the church? Where the hell did they get money for that? And besides, that thing needs to be torn down.”
“And that’s what they’re gonna do.”
“So you’re thinking they’re selling drugs and with the drug money they bought that church? What would they want with that old thing?
Julio shrugged, shaking his head, No.
“Buy a fuckin’ church for a hangout? That takes some cojones!”
“No, Fredo. They aren’t punks or even young kids.”
Fredo knew he wasn’t going to like what the kid had to say next. “But you said—”
“I was wrong, Fredo. They’re building like an enterprise. An office of sorts. These guys are really organized. Organized crime.”
“Fuckin’ A, they are not.” Fredo’s stomach lurched.
“They’re goin’ around the neighborhood, telling everyone they are here to take over from Caesar and Sonny and the others. Like it’s their turf now. And these guys, they don’t mess around.”
“So why would they blow up the school? That’s a hell of a way to win over converts.”
“See, that’s the thing, Fredo. They’re asking our help to find the guys who did this. They said it wasn’t them. They’re here to stay, Fredo. Or d
ie going to war. We’re fuckin’ stuck right in the middle.”
A HALF-HOUR AFTER the Hummer threaded through the grapevine from Los Angeles, Coop pulled off the freeway to get gas and some sandwiches.
Fredo left for the men’s room while Coop gassed the Hummer. After re-parking the beast, they entered the coffee shop where Fredo ordered a chicken salad and bought Coop an egg sandwich. The tall Nebraska SEAL had iced tea while Fredo ordered his usual cappuccino.
Clutching the salad in his right hand, Fredo followed Coop to a table in the corner and sat across from him. He’d have to go back for the coffee later when his name was called.
Coop made lots of noise unwrapping the cellophane from his sandwich.
Fredo knew his buddy was trying to needle him into talking. They’d not said a word for three hours while on the road.
“Not sure it’s possible to make any more noise with that wrapper than you are right now, Coop. You win the prize.” Fredo knew he’d get a wisecracking remark in return.
“Good. Sure as hell gives me something to listen to since you’re as tight-lipped as a virgin on her wedding night.”
That wasn’t so bad. Fredo knew Coop was being careful. He looked around and didn’t see anyone paying particular attention to either of them.
“Look, you gotta tell me what Julio thought was so important you had to do it in private,” Coop whispered. “I know something’s wrong when you don’t give me shit about my driving or my choice in music.”
“Quad large cappuccino for Fred?” The barista yelled out.
“Fuck,” Fredo whispered under his breath and left to retrieve his drink. He knew Coop was right.
“Thank you, Fred,” the cheerful barista said.
Fredo restrained himself easily, not for the name mishap, but for the kid’s cheerfulness. He didn’t think anyone could be that happy giving out a cappuccino, not with what else was going on in the world.
He’d not been able to put into words all the dark worry he’d been harboring. As he returned, he scanned the room again for someone who might be too interested and found nothing of importance, so he turned his attention back to Cooper.
Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo Page 5
