The Satyr

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The Satyr Page 24

by Tiana Laveen


  He sat up and dialed his mother. After a few rings, she answered.

  “Hello, Nix!” she said in her typical sing-song voice. He smiled and fidgeted with a small golden paperweight he had on his desk.

  “Hey, Ma. Just wanted to let you know Dad is in town.”

  “Oh, wow! I had no idea the circus came this time of year!”

  “Ma…”

  “Tell the head of clowns, your father, I said hello.”

  He laughed. “You know why I’m callin’ ya. I was hoping you could tell him hello yourself.”

  The lingering pause was cause for concern.

  “No. I don’t speak Jerk-a-nese.”

  “Ma, come on! Please? It makes things go so much easier when you’re around.”

  “Nix, you just want a buffer. I know that you and your father are sometimes like oil and water, but I’m certain you can handle some time alone with him.”

  “I want you to reach deep in your heart and think about all the people you’ll be helping.”

  “It’s above me now.” He burst out laughing again and shook his head. “You both are so difficult. Stubborn. Trying to get either of you to do something you don’t want to do is like trying to move a damn mountain.”

  “You’re one to talk!” She snorted.

  “I got in honest.”

  “That’s definitely true, but I can’t help you. He drives me absolutely bananas. I can’t stand five minutes with him, let alone an entire dinner.”

  “Gonna be great food…”

  “Let me guess? Italian food. Big portions, lots of wine, bread all spread out along a huge table all to yourselves in a corner with candlelight. You spoil him, ya know?”

  “I know, I know.” He shrugged. “I feel a little guilty sometimes for ignoring his calls. He’s been complaining a lot more lately, and it drains me. We’re having it at La Scarola. Anyway, he still thinks you two are friends. Can you humor him?”

  “Jesus and Judas were friends at one point, too.”

  “You said you did great in drama class. Can’t you pull off an Academy-Award-worthy performance for your firstborn son who happens to pay your cell phone bill religiously, bought you a brand new Aston Martin last year, and then paid off that speeding ticket the first week ya had the car, you speed demon you,” he teased.

  “So, you treat me nice to get favors, huh?” She chuckled. “Lending you my womb for nine and a half months wasn’t enough!”

  “I was late, so sue me. And ya damn right that’s why I treat you well. I always need a favor down the line. You’re an investment, Ma! The bank of motherhood. At least I make deposits, too. Tonight though, I need a withdrawal. Please come see the clown. I promise it’ll be the greatest show on Earth!” She guffawed. “Jokes aside, it’ll be nice. You’ll get to see us all together. Your grandkids, too… No waiting until your birthday or Christmas to have the entire gang around.”

  “UGH! All right, Nix, but only one hour, two max, and then I’m leaving. Will Leo be there for dinner tonight? I wanted to talk to him about some old stuff he still has here at the house.”

  “Yeah, he said he’s coming. Thanks, Ma. Order as much wine and calamari as ya want. I’ll make the deal even sweeter by throwing in some take-home chocolate cannoli. You love those.”

  “Yeah? You’re going all out, huh? How nice. I’m trying to watch my girlie figure though. I have a big wrestling match tomorrow.”

  He grinned into the phone.

  “Ma, you’d look beautiful even if you weighed a million pounds. You’d still be a big ass dream come true. I gotta run. Do ya want me to send the car to pick you up? An Uber if that’s not to your liking?”

  “Nope. I want your father to see me pull up in my Aston Martin our son bought me so he can eat his heart out. Oh, wait a minute, he doesn’t have one. Guess he’ll have to nibble on little colorful fake flowers that squirt water and jump about in a temper tantrum in his big shiny clown shoes! What a Bozo! I swear, the shit we do for our kids!”

  “I hope you’ll be nice tonight, but either way, I’ll take my chances.”

  “Is Bozo’s wife still jumping on other men’s peters and callin’ it a business trip?”

  “I have no idea. Dad doesn’t believe she’s doing anything. Let’s just not bring that up tonight and—”

  “I wasn’t cheating at all, and he accused me of doing it every Sunday after Mass like football! Now he has a lady who can’t even spell the word ‘faithful,’ and he turns a blind eye. Sobriety seems to be synonymous with rose colored glasses. What a moron. I’m only going because I love you and your brother and sisters.”

  “Whatever the reason, thank you. Besides, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

  “You four were the only thing he gave me that was worth more than five bucks. Cheap bastard. But trust and believe, all five minutes of your conception was worth it.”

  “Ahhh, Ma! You’re so mean! I love you.”

  “Love you too, Nix. See ya tonight.”

  He disconnected the call. Before he could even form another thought, his office phone rang. He snatched it up.

  “Nixon Rossellini speaking.”

  “Hey, baby.”

  He smiled upon hearing Yasmine’s voice.

  “I was just getting ready to call you.” He placed the gold globe down and opened his laptop, logging in with his password. “Our workweek is finally almost over. Are you sure you don’t want me to swing by and get you?”

  “Oh no, honey. I have it taken care of. I’ll drive myself. I know your dad will be with you and your hands are busy right now, so I’ll just meet up with you there. It’s better that way.”

  “All right, no problem. Do ya know how to get to La Scarola? It’s on West Grand Avenue.”

  “I’ve never been before, but I’m sure I can find it with the help of Google Maps on my phone.”

  “Cool. I think you’ll like it. My dad is a no fuss type of guy, but he likes big portions and quality Italian foods. He’s kinda picky about what he eats. Anyway, it’s one of the few places he says he enjoys.” He swiveled back and forth in his seat.

  “I bet it’s great. I don’t eat Italian food that often because it tends to be a diet buster, but I absolutely love it. Well, I’ll see you this evening. I’m about to leave, take a long bath, and get ready.”

  “Perfect. See you later, baby.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  He picked up the gold globe again and tossed it between his hands.

  A big family dinner tonight at La Scarola… bringing my lady to meet the family… I haven’t seen my father in a long ass time. Although we don’t always see eye to eye, I love him. Glad he’s coming. I’ll get to see, Ma, too. Haven’t seen her in about a month or so. Yeah, this is good…

  He placed the gold globe back on its stand, brought his laptop closer, and began to read some online documents. Maybe the silver lining wasn’t just a myth after all…

  Dad’s hair was dyed jet black, yet the silver at his temples always grew out faster than the rest. His tresses were high and wavy at the top and tapered on the sides. The sideburns were rather long, accentuating his dark naturally tan skin and angular facial structure. The old man still had a full head of hair and he wore it proudly, along with his Armani Code cologne. This was one of the few things his father would splurge on. He’d always said smelling good for a man was next to godliness. His fashion sense, however, left much to be desired.

  He had on a red, white, and blue checkered long sleeve shirt, paired with black pants that were a wee bit too short, and a black belt with a huge buckle shaped like a silver horse trotting away into the night. The guy’s shoes were rather dated, black snakeskin with the toe area slightly turned up like a damn genie’s. Make a fuckin’ wish… Nixon tried to help the guy out the passenger side of the car, but Dad snatched his arm away, grumpy as ever.

  “I’m not some invalid! I can get outta the damn car without assistance. Geesh! You treat me like my funeral is tomorrow!”

/>   Nix rolled his eyes and locked his car.

  “If you didn’t act like an angry little old lady who eats cat food and yells at the kids playing ball across the street for laughing too much, maybe I wouldn’t treat you like one!”

  “You can really be shitty, Nix. You know that? You’re a human butt plug. A toy for a rectum. That’s where ya belong, ya know? Right in the keyster.”

  “Look, let me tell ya something, Dad. When we get in here,” he gestured toward the front door, “I don’t want to hear any of your crap, all right? You’ve been bitchin’ since I picked you up from the hotel. It’s aggravating. Ya been here only a few hours and already you’re doing shit to work my nerves. I’ve been nothing but nice, and you have nothin’ but complaints. Act like a decent human being for a change. I don’t wanna hear any of your nonsense.”

  “You’ll hear whatever it is I have to say, jackass!” Dad barked, his salt and pepper brows furrowed.

  It was then that Nixon noticed bits of tissue peppering his five o’ clock shadow.

  “Ya got shit all over your face. What the hell were you doing in that bathroom? Makin’ out with a paper towel?!” He grabbed his father and made quick work of cleaning him off.

  “Wiping my ass with memories of you. That’s what I was doing. You know what? It’s nice looking, Nix, but that hotel stinks! And I need a fucking cigarette,” the old man growled as they made their way towards the restaurant entrance.

  “I’m sure I’ll regret asking, but what’s wrong with it? You are in the Talbott for God’s sake. You seemed happy when I picked you up in the lobby.”

  “The gal at the front, ya know, the one that looks like a drunk golden retriever, got smart with me, as soon as I checked in. She was talking to me like I was a hundred years old and had no will to live! Kinda like you did a second ago!” Dad jammed his hand in his pocket and lit a cigarette. “I get to the room, and there’s no fucking soap!”

  “Dad, there was soap. It’s in those pumps.”

  “How would you know? Ahhhh, geez! Never mind! Is there any place at all in this town where you haven’t screwed some broad?!” Nix couldn’t help but smile. He was rather proud of that achievement. He’d toured most of Chicago and had had a roll in the hay almost anywhere he could.

  “I haven’t had sex on Wrigley Field. Yet.”

  The old man rolled his eyes. “Anyway, all I wanted was a regular bar of fuckin’ soap, Nix. Is that too much to ask?! All that frou-frou stuff they have now, I have no idea what it was… something called mango vanilla cream daffodil shiny seashell on the shore with a splash of root beer float, ray, a drop of mornin’ sun, on the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, VD, in a fuckin’ pear tree! All these stupid ass names, totally unnecessary! Just give me a good ol’ bar of Ivory, Dove, or Coast!”

  “I’ll wash your mouth out with it. Pipe down.”

  Dad took a last hard drag on the cigarette, let it fall to the ground, and crushed it with his foot. Nixon opened the door for the guy, swallowing a laugh. His old man was in rare form, but it was probably nervous excitement. He tended to hide his anxieties behind a cloak of obscenities and being a royal pain in the rectum. As soon as the front door was opened, a rush of warm air greeted them, carrying notes of cheerfulness. The voices of the patrons enjoying themselves, dining on amazing food and having a damn good time. Nixon approached the podium, where the hostess stood.

  “Hi there, how ya doin’?”

  “Great! Would you like a table? If so, it’ll be about a two-hour wait,” the woman asked, dressed in a black shirt and pants. Her matching hair and blood red lipstick against alabaster skin gave her a goth look.

  “Actually, I have a reservation already. The name is Nixon Rossellini. I have a booking for seven adults and six children.”

  “Welcome! Yes, we have you down right here. Your table is actually ready and a few guests from your party have already arrived and have been seated.”

  “Oh, really? Fantastic.” He and his father followed behind a tall, thin waiter who’d been standing there quietly beside the hostess. He led them to the large table.

  “Look, here he is! It’s Nix! And Dad!”

  “Leo!” Nixon exclaimed, taking his brother into his arms. Although they did text each other sometimes, it had been a few months since they’d met. Leo released him to go hug Dad. Emotion and love poured from them, filling the space. Nixon crossed his arms and regarded the two. Leo was Dad’s favorite, and he was all right with that. Leo hadn’t experienced the same father he had. By the time he was a teenager and Nix was out of the house in college, Dad didn’t drink as much. He was more uptight, but spent more time with his children. So he’d been in a transition of sorts, and Leo had missed the quieter yet much darker version of this man they called Dad, who kept the world bottled up inside him.

  Dad patted Leonardo’s back a few times, then looked past him at his brother’s wife, Jamie, and their two children, Abigail and Georgie. Happy tears brimmed in his eyes. The children squirmed about in their seats, their faces plump, with porcelain skin and rosy cheeks.

  “Abby! Georgie! Don’t be shy! Come to Grandpa!” The kids jumped up and raced to him, wrapping their tiny arms around his neck. The old man picked them both up at the same time, one on each side, and gave them a kiss before winking at Jamie.

  “Hello, to my beautiful daughter-in-law. Jamie, haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Hey, Santino. It’s so good to see you!” The short, wide-hipped woman with thick, dark hair made her way around the table. Dad put the children down and gave her a kiss and a hug.

  While this was playing out, Nixon spotted Yasmine, who was sashaying over in a black jumpsuit, heels, and her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. He loved that style on her. In her hand she held a silver clutch purse, the clasp shaped like a fox encrusted with diamonds. When she made it over at the table, all eyes were on her. The discussions stopped in an instant.

  She sure knows how to make a damn entrance. She’s fuckin’ fire. If she weren’t mine, I’d wish that she were. Hey everyone, look but don’t touch. I have fucked this woman in every way possible… Be jealous motherfuckers, be very jealous…

  “Dad, Leo, Jamie, this is Yasmine Prince, my girlfriend.”

  The silence stretched, during which three pairs of large eyes and two pairs of small ones rested on his lady. Then, just like that, Dad burst out laughing.

  “So, you are real?! I thought he was makin’ you up!”

  Yasmine laughed lightly and extended her hand for a shake.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rossellini.” Dad grabbed her and gave her a big hug.

  “Oh no, no, no. You can call me Santino, or Tino.”

  Yasmine nodded. “Okay, I will.”

  “Sit, sit.” Dad took over, looping his arm around Yasmine’s as if this were his house and she’d just arrived as the main dish. Nixon smirked and watched Dad pull out Yasmine’s chair so she could sit, then take the chair next to hers. The man flirted with her, telling her how nice she looked, how good she smelled. I see he still has absolutely no shame.

  Nixon sat on the other side of her, relieved when Leo asked Dad a question about his taxes and forcing the conversation to veer in another direction. Stretching his arm around the back of Yasmine’s chair, he leaned in and kissed her, then heard a burst of laughter and screaming coming from a few feet away. In came his dark-haired, tall sisters, Maria and Tonya, with their husbands and children in tow.

  “Dad! Nix! Leo!” Maria exclaimed.” Hi, Jamie! Wow!”

  A big, loud huddle ensued with everyone hugging, cheering, teasing one another, then taking their seats. Nixon engaged in small talk with his sisters and brothers-in-law, happy to see everyone, and every now and again looking at Yasmine who was engrossed in Tonya’s tale of a recent robbery at the bank she used to work at as a manager many years ago. When the waiter came along and took their drink orders, Nixon noted Dad fixated on something and followed his gaze. Ma was on the phone, her
back partially turned toward the entrance. She appeared to be in the throes of a riveting conversation.

  “Hold on a second, Yasmine,” he whispered in her ear, patting her thigh. He got to his feet and went to greet his mother.

  “And that is why it was there in the first place, because he forgot it from the night before.”

  “Ma, Ma…”

  She smiled at him.

  “Joyce, I have to go. I will call you back, okay? Nix is here givin’ me the evil eye to go sit down. Uh huh… okay… all right. Love you, too.”

  Ma disconnected the call and embraced him, and he inhaled the scent of her perfume. She looked wonderful with her graying dark brown hair tucked behind her ears, about chin-length and full of body and shine. She was dressed in a sky-blue turtleneck and flared jeans, and turquoise jewelry on her wrists and fingers. Taking her hand, he led her to the large table. Everyone except Yasmine stood up, greeting Mom and giving her a hug and kiss. Dad stood too but didn’t dare move a muscle. He simply glared, like some creepy Peeping Tom. Yasmine slowly got to her feet and waited patiently.

  “Everybody shut up for a minute! Jesus, I can’t hear myself think!”

  “Nix, you’re so freakin’ offensive! The world doesn’t revolve around you, ya know?” Tonya exclaimed, then rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah, but the sun does. Whatever. Look, Ma, this is Yasmine… this is my lady.”

  Mom’s lips curled in an approving smile and she walked up to his woman, enveloping her in her arms.

  “Yasmine, it is so nice to meet you. What a pretty name!”

  “Thank you, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “I had no idea that Nix was in a relationship, but now that I do, I am happy that he is!”

  Dad looked so smug, proud he’d been the first to get the info, no doubt. He even puffed out his chest, his eyes turning beady and intense.

  “Tino, hello,” Mom murmured as she sashayed past him to take her seat, avoiding eye contact. Leo rushed to pull out a chair for her to sit on.

  “Alice, hey… ya look nice,” Dad muttered before taking his seat.

 

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