by D. J. Manly
"Mom, Dad will retire when he's dead. I don't think he really means to change things that much. I just think he's tired of touring and stuff. He will perform when he wants to rather than when Frank tells him to. That's all."
Janet watched her son put mugs on the table. She was not immune from the looks he gave Tony every once in a while. Something had happened, but she didn't feel quite comfortable asking them about it.
Tony looked happy. In fact, she had never seen him look so happy. He had this dopey kind of smile on his face and his eyes were never far from Angelo as he moved around the kitchen getting everything ready for the coffee.
"Are you hungry?" Angelo asked his mother, who shook her head.
Tony, on the other hand was nodding with vigour. "I could eat a horse."
"Good, go out and catch yourself one," Angelo teased.
Tony picked up his little cousin and handed her to his Aunt. "I'm going to make some toast. Your son wants to starve me to death."
Angelo laughed and poured three cups of coffee.
Janet hid a smile as Tony deliberately brushed up against Angelo and then gave him a flirtatious grin with his mumbled apology.
Drake came and sat down with the coffee cups.
Abigail put out her arms to her older brother. He took her and gave her a kiss.
"She adores you," Janet laughed. "She always wants you to hold her."
"She's got good taste," Tony blurted and then laughed.
Janet raised an eyebrow at her son, and he gave her an innocent grin.
Abigail was blabbering now, wrapping her older brother's hair around her tiny fingers.
"Ouch...there she goes again. Hey you, devil child," Angelo laughed, trying to free his hair.
Janet laughed, taking the little girl from him just as the phone rang.
"I bet it's Mac," Drake said as he picked up the cordless phone and handed it to his mother.
She took it from him. "Hello. Yes...oh, no, this is his mother. He's right here. Drake," Janet blinked at him, "It's for you, Nick, calling from eh...Santa Monica."
Tony stopped buttering his toast. He stood perfectly still. Nicolas. He had forgotten all about him. He turned and looked over at Angelo.
Angelo took the phone and excusing himself, left the kitchen with it.
Tony slammed his knife down on the counter.
Janet suddenly realized that she was witnessing something that maybe she shouldn't.
There was a silence, and then Tony abruptly stalked out of the kitchen and went back down the hall to the bedroom.
* * * * * *
Drake rang the doorbell several times and just before he was about to turn around and go back to his car, the door opened.
There was a woman standing there, a woman who seemed familiar to him, although he couldn't remember where he had seen her.
"Drake," she said, appearing to be pleased to see him.
"Hello," he replied. "Have we...eh...met before, Miss...?"
"Della, just call me Della. You're looking for your brother, I assume? He's out back. Please, come in."
Drake walked into the hallway, unsure of who this woman was and then remembered seeing her at the wedding reception, and again at the Awards later on in the evening.
He followed her out to the patio in back.
Pepi was just climbing out of the pool.
"Pepi, your brother is here," she called.
She walked up to him and handed him a towel, and then asked Drake if she could bring him anything.
"No thanks. I've just had breakfast."
"Good, I'll leave you then," she replied and disappeared inside the house.
Pepi began to dry off, shaking the water from his shoulder-length black hair. "What are you doing here, Drake?" he asked, his tone a little cold.
"Is that any way to greet your big brother?" Drake teased, not bothered by the chilly reception. After all, it was not as if he was expecting anything else.
Pepi sniffed, ran the towel over his head. He invited Drake to sit down.
"Pep, before you say anything...I know that both you and Mac were upset by---"
"Upset?" Pepi declared, throwing the towel aside.
"Upset is hardly the word I would use, Drake. How about fucking shocked...hurt...alienated and pissed off for starters?"
Drake sighed. "Okay, I deserve that."
"Why? Just tell me why?" He leaned over Drake, glaring into his face.
"Why I'm retiring?"
"No. Why you saw fit to just blurt it out at the awards show without so much as a whisper to anyone about it beforehand?"
"I had said that..."
"You never sounded that serious before, Drake!"
Pepi paced the floor. "Christ, this is my life here we're talking about. I'm not ready to chuck everything. We're on top. Why would you want to...?"
"It's better to get out when you're on top, Pep," Drake replied. "Listen, I didn't say I was never going to perform again. I just want some freedom, that's all. Plus, I have something in mind. It's not the end for you, and Mac. I want to reorganize the group."
"Reorganize the...?" Pepi threw up his hands. "What in hell are you talking about? You are the Russo Brothers Band, you, me, Johnny and Mac. We are the Russo Brothers. If you and Johnny leave the band, I'm the only Russo left. Listen, Drake, Mac's a great drummer but I can't remember any rock band in history with only two members, a drummer, and a key board player."
Drake laughed. "Would make a funny band, wouldn't it?"
"What in hell has gotten into you?" Pepi placed his hands on his hips. "Don't you care that you are effectively fucking up my career? You never wanted to retire before. Why now? Why?"
Drake closed his eyes. How could he tell him? How could he explain that he was afraid that this life was killing Johnny? He couldn't bear to lose him, and if they didn't slow down..."
Pepi was hollering at him again. He understood why he was upset and he didn't blame him much.
"Look, Pep," Drake stood up. "I'm tired. I want to be able to perform when I want to. I don't plan to renew my contract. I would like to work behind the scenes. I still plan on writing some stuff and I have some ideas. I'd like to put you and Mac together with Tony and Angelo. Angelo could lead this band."
Pepi opened his mouth, and then closed it. For a moment he said nothing, then his eyes widened a little.
"You know," he said, almost to himself, "that could work."
"Not 'could'." Drake shook his dark head. "It will work. Angelo is an incredible musician, and Tony is coming into his own. I'm not saying that it won't require a lot of work, but..."
"Wait," Pepi held up his hand, "Angelo is not going to go for this. He's doing well with his own band. Maybe he..."
"I didn't say this would be easy, and I think we'd have to work Mike into the band as well. What do you think?"
"But Mike is a drummer. We can't have two drummers, can we?"
"Yeah...well, he plays other instruments, I think. Anyway, we'll have to discuss this in detail."
Pepi had calmed down significantly in an hour, but he was sad. Drake knew this, so he hugged him a few times before he left. "Do you forgive me?"
Pepi eyed him. "I don't know. I wish I didn't love you so much. That would help."
Drake smiled. "I love you too, little brother."
He wanted to ask him about the woman who had answered the door, but since Pepi didn't volunteer anything about her, Drake didn't want to pry. Pepi would tell him when he was ready, if there was anything to tell.
He drove off with Pepi standing on the curb, waving at him.
On the freeway, he turned up the radio. A song by Company Angelo came on. He sang along with his son.
When the song ended, he turned it down.
To pretend he wasn't worried would be a waste of time. He could hardly believe that he had said he was going to retire at the awards show. Retiring was the last thing he wanted to do. But he felt that he had to say it aloud in front of a lot of people beca
use he knew if he didn't say it then, he wouldn't be able to when the time came.
There were so many other people to consider. He was most concerned about Mac and Pepi, of course, and what he would be doing to their careers. And although he did have some thoughts on how to keep the band together without Johnny or himself being a part of it, it didn't mean that he could make it happen.
Although he was fairly sure Tony would want to become a member of the band, he was not at all sure that his own son would. Now that Company Angelo had come into its own, Angelo might not want to leave it to become a member of The Russo Brothers. There was also Angelo's friend and co band member Mike.
Angelo wouldn't turn his back on him to join another band.
There was also the relationship between Tony and his son to consider. There was no mistaking the fact that Tony was in love with his son, but now Angelo was living with some guy in Santa Monica called Nick or Rick. If Angelo and Tony couldn't reconcile their personal differences, there would be no new Russo Brothers Band. Fighting with Johnny over the years had almost torn the band apart a couple of times. There had to be harmony.
So, there it was. To assume that he was going to be able to save the band was a pretty damn big assumption. He knew that it was a hell of a lot more complicated than he was making it out to be. He had to remain optimistic.
When he arrived back at Johnny's house, he was sleeping. Drake opened the bedroom door, took one look at him and closed it again.
He wished he could do the same, but there was too much on his mind right now. He went back downstairs and turned on the answering machine. There was another three messages from Janet stressing out about Mac, and half a dozen from Frank.
Drake turned off the machine, flipped in an old music video of one of their concerts and lay down on the sofa.
He was smiling as he watched them in the old days.
God, they were young. Pepi looked like a baby. He was still a baby.
He thought about that woman who had answered the door at Pepi's. He was sure she was at least forty or forty-five. He had to wonder why Pepi hadn't told them about her. Did he think they wouldn't approve?
He had no problem with it. As long as his little brother was happy.
He had long suspected that Pepi wasn't a very happy person, and he had to take some responsibility for that. Pepi had been witness to the strange and sometimes volatile relationship between his two older brothers and it had not been easy for him. Often, Pepi had taken a back seat to the two of them. Drake had always suspected that Pepi avoided getting into any serious relationship because his brothers had soured him on life and love.
Drake sighed. Those thoughts disturbed him, and he got up and walked over to the piano. He sat down. His fingers hit the keys. The words came to him easily, as if they had always been there waiting for the opportunity to come out. "My brother," he sang, his fingers pounding out a tune that played along in his head, "I never looked beyond your smile to see the sadness underneath. While you watched, we played out our parts, you the audience with the broken heart and now I can see beyond my selfish heart...I see you, my brother. I want to know your lonely heart...I want you now to play your part and I will be your support...your audience who applauds or cries when time goes by...your brother. I am your brother."
"That's beautiful," a voice said suddenly, startling him.
Drake stopped playing. He looked up to see Johnny standing there. "Thank you."
"It's for Pepi, isn't it?" Johnny asked, walking over to stand behind him, placing his arms around his neck.
Drake closed his eyes. "Yes," he breathed, then after a few seconds, he said, "I love you."
"I love you too." Johnny laughed lightly. "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. I'm feeling sentimental, I guess."
Johnny sat down beside him and rubbed his arm. He smiled into his eyes.
He looked tired, Drake thought. He looked extremely tired.
"Well, play it again, Sam, and we'll see if we can make a hit out of it," Johnny told him.
Drake pressed his lips to his for a second and then nodded, lowering his fingers again to the ivory keys.
* * * * * *
When the door opened, Tony turned his face away and looked out the window.
Angelo walked into the room. He said nothing.
Tony turned from the window and met his eyes.
"You're going to tell me that you have to go back to Santa Monica and talk things out with this Nicolas guy, aren't you?"
"No. Actually, I was going to tell you that Mac came by a few minutes ago and picked up Mom and Abbey. They've gone home."
"So Mac has been found," Tony said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
Angelo nodded.
After a few seconds, Tony said, "I know that you're going to go back to him."
Angelo studied him for a minute. He knitted his dark eyebrows together and then shook his head. "I can't believe you. I'm going for a walk," he announced stiffly.
Tony looked up in surprise when he left the room, slamming the door behind him. He sprang off the bed and swung open the door. He caught him halfway down the hallway. He pulled on one muscular forearm, trying to slow his pace. "Why are you pissed off at me?" he demanded. "I should be the one who..."
"Why? Why should you be angry, Tony?" Angelo pulled his arm away and glared at him. "You knew I had a lover in Santa Monica. I didn't try to hide it. It's normal he would call me here. I didn't expect for this to happen between us. Why in hell are you assuming that nothing has changed? Do you think I can go home to Nicolas now and everything will be the same as before?"
"Can you?" Tony charged.
"No, goddamn it!" He returned, his dark eyes stormy. "I'm in love with you. If I wasn't, why in hell would I have put up with so much crap?"
Tony sighed. "That was a long time ago."
"It was last year!" Angelo snapped. "Anyway, if last night didn't tell you anything, then I don't know what else I can do!"
Tony lowered his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so used to being disappointed where you're concerned." He looked into his face again.
"Well, now you know how it feels."
Tony sighed. "I deserved that. I just don't feel comfortable...you know...about you going back to him and---"
"Tony, I have to go back. I told him we would talk, and---"
"Talk? Is that all you're going to do with him?" Tony accused.
"Tony," Angelo pleaded, "I can't just leave the guy hanging. We share a condo, and there are papers to sign and bills to be paid. All my stuff is there. I owe the guy an explanation and to break up with someone over the phone is..." Angelo trailed off as if he were tired of explaining.
Tony didn't say anything for a minute. He had this image in his mind, this premonition if you like that he would get a phone call telling him that he had decided after all to stay with this guy. Tony gazed at Angelo and then in a voice that could have froze water, he said, "Let me know when you make up your mind about what you want. When you finish playing house with this guy, maybe I will be waiting when you come back and then again, maybe I will have found someone else."
Angelo watched him as he stormed back into the bedroom. He swore loudly in frustration. "You're enough to drive a person crazy!" he yelled, running a hand through his hair.
He was about to march out the front door, then changed his mind. Instead, he walked back down the hallway and pulled open the bedroom door.
Tony stood there in the middle of the room. He didn't look at him.
"Do you know what?" Angelo muttered.
"What?" Tony asked, still avoiding his eyes.
"I suddenly remembered what it was that made me hesitate that night...what prevented me from meeting you at the hotel even though I desperately wanted you."
Tony narrowed his eyebrows and his heart began to pound in his chest. He said nothing. He looked at him now and waited.
"Tony, this isn't going to work. You're not ready to have a relationship with me
, and I'm---"
"What are you saying?" Tony whispered in horror.
There were no other words that could have made his heart sink more.
"I'm saying that you haven't lived enough yet.
You're young, and..." Angelo threw up his hands.
"Immature? Is that what you're saying?" Tony's eyes filled with tears.
"Yeah...maybe." Drake nodded darkly. "Anyway, as much as I would like to be with you, I think we better slow down, okay? It doesn't mean we can't see each other when I come home or even..." His eyes went to the unmade bed. "Let's just not put too many conditions on each other for now. I think it would be a big mistake."
Tony blinked at him. He was so upset that he didn't notice how stricken Angelo was. "So, you're going back to your boyfriend in Santa Monica, is that it?"
"I told you that it was over..." he began. "Why don't you trust me, Tony?"
"Trust you, when you can tell him it's over on the phone just as easily as...?"
"You see, there it is!" Angelo cut him off. "You don't trust me. You act like a teenager. Your maturity level is... If you don't even trust me to do this, what in hell will it be like in the future?"
"I sure as hell seem mature enough for a screw, though, don't I?" Tony growled at him. "Well, don't I?" he demanded when Angelo didn't respond.
Angelo tried to smile, but somehow the smile didn't come out right. "I never once thought of what we did together as a screw." He felt suddenly as if Tony had cheapened their love, dragged it down to the lowest common denominator. He had 'screwed' a lot in his life.
He thought he knew the difference. He thought this was different. Maybe it wasn't.
He lifted a weary hand suddenly. He felt tired, weak. "Bye, Tony, maybe in a few years when you grow up," he managed. "When you have enough confidence in yourself and in me and if we both feel the same...you know..."
"Fuck you, Drake Junior!" Tony blurted. "You're just like your father! Just fuck off with your bullshit feel-good speeches, okay?"
Angelo shook his dark head. Over his shoulder, he said, "I love you, Tony. I really do. I always have."
Then he was gone.
Tony was too angry to cry. Instead, he picked up the first thing he got his hands on and threw it across the room. How in hell did things deteriorate like this? Just this morning they were making love as if they couldn't get enough of one another and now this. The thought of Angelo going back to that guy just...oh God, what had he done? He'd acted like an idiot. Why couldn't he have just trusted him to go back to that guy and tell him it was over?
