by D. J. Manly
Damn them, damn both of them. It had always been about them from the beginning, and although he loved them both, he could never understand what it was between them...that something that always managed to creep out every once in a while and touch everything and everyone with its madness. There was something that brought both his brothers such pain over the years... something they had never confessed to him. Maybe this is what he resented most, being excluded.
He had always felt an outsider, even when he was finally old enough to play keyboards in the band.
He'd told himself that being born six years after Johnny was the reason for the distance. But he realized that it wasn't only the age difference that kept him at arms' length from his brothers. There was this magic between them, a magic that was at the heart of the Russo Brothers Band, a magic that Frank Carr had spotted the first time he'd laid eyes on them playing at the Rock Castle. But that magic that made everyone around them feel good and warm could just as quickly turn into a hurricane, knocking everything and everyone down in its way.
His cell phone was ringing now. He almost hated to answer. All news seemed bad lately, and it was getting worse. He lifted his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.
"Ya?" he said.
"Pep, it's Frank. How ya doing?"
"Not bad. Mom insisted on going to the hospital before the birds got up today, so I'm here with Johnny. How's things with you?"
"Tough. Some people are not happy about the cancellations and I can't get anywhere with your record label. They insist on sticking to the release date for the C.D. How far are we from finished?"
Pepi sighed. "Two songs, maybe."
"Can we re-master two classics and stick those on?" Frank's voice sounded tense, tired.
"Why not? Have the sound technicians work with 'Love Me Tonight' and 'Heartbeat'. "I'll try and spend a few hours this week going over it, putting the finishing touches on them. When is the release date?"
"End of October," Frank replied.
"Shit. That's in like...two weeks?"
"You got it."
"Well, I'm a little nervous about doing anything without Drake and Johnny's approval...especially Drake, you know how he gets, but I've got no choice. I'll tell Drake what's happening, though. Speaking of Drake, what's going on?"
"I sent Francine Thomson over there. Damned good criminal lawyer...expensive. She's meeting with Drake now. Do you want to meet us for coffee at the doughnut place across the street?"
"When?"
"In about an hour."
"Look, Mama is downstairs in the cafeteria. I'm waiting for Janet and Angelo to show up..."
"Angel is home?" Frank asked enthusiastically.
"Ya...at least I'm pretty sure he's back," Pepi chuckled.
"What?"
"Well, seems he had some problem with security last night. One of your blue-suits told me this morning about this guy that showed up claiming to be Drake's son with an I.D. card that said Smith on it.
They wouldn't let him in. So I gave the guy hell, but it's not their fault...with everything going on, I forgot to forewarn them about Angelo.
"Anyway, Frank, I don't want Mama to be alone right now. She's acting kind of weird, and she does have a bad heart. I'd rather wait until Janet and Angelo get here before I take off. I'll call Janet and hurry her up. If they get here in time, I'll come and join you at the coffee shop, okay? If I don't show, you know why."
"Okay, I'll be by the hospital later today anyway. How is he?"
"The same."
Frank sighed. "Catch you later," he said and hung up.
Just then, the elevator doors opened. Pepi stood up. Janet and Angelo stepped off. Great, now he could go and find out about Drake.
"Uncle Pep," Angelo said, stepping up to him and giving him a hug. He was already several inches taller than Pepi.
Janet gave Pepi a kiss on the cheek. "How's our boy?"
Pepi shook his head and then gave his nephew a smile. God, it had been a year since he'd seen him, and he looked more and more like his Dad. "Well gorgeous," he teased, "how was Europe?"
Angelo gave his uncle a sassy look. "Great, until London."
Pepi sighed. "How'd you hear?"
"Television. Anyway, doesn't matter now."
"Listen, guys, Mama is downstairs and I want to go and join Frank in a hour or so. Drake is seeing a lawyer now, and she agreed to meet with us. I don't want Mama to..."
Janet nodded at him. "No problem. Listen, I'll stay here." She turned to her son. "Angelo, did you want to go with your uncle?"
"Will I be able to see Dad?" he asked.
Pepi shrugged. "Depends on your dad, but come with me anyway and we'll see what happens. Just don't let your grandmother know where you're going. She insists on seeing him, and I know he doesn't want Mama to see him in jail."
"Anyway," Janet said, sitting now, "I'll occupy her by reminding her that she will get to see her other grandson later in the day. Tony is on his way, isn't he?" She looked at Pepi.
Pepi nodded. "Ya. You know, there is so much going on that's stressful. It doesn't seem like it should all be going on at the same time. Damn it, meeting Tony for the first time would be enough in terms of tense situations...or Johnny being in the hospital, or Drake being in jail...or my career falling apart. One of these situations would be more than enough, wouldn't it, but gee, I guess what they say is true, when it rains, it fucking well does pour, doesn't it?"
Angelo stood up and placed an arm around Pepi's shoulder. Although he loved Uncle Johnny, Pepi had always been his favorite uncle. He was younger and he always had time for him, unlike Uncle Johnny, who was always hanging out with Dad.
"It's going to get better," Angelo told him; although he wasn't sure he believed it.
"Bullshit," Pepi replied, but gave him a grin and hugged him.
Angelo laughed, then sobered. "I'm going in to see Uncle Johnny."
Janet reminded him of what to expect, and Pepi pointed the way. He walked down the corridor and entered his Uncle's room.
Ten minutes later, he came out, tears streaming down his cheeks. His mother went to comfort him, but he shook his head and turned away. He cried for a moment and then stopped, reaching for a tissue in the box on the end table.
Except for his mother, the waiting room was empty. Pepi had gone downstairs.
Then the elevator opened and his grandmother stood there, holding her son's arm. Janet got up to meet her, giving her son a look that said, 'Dry your eyes fast so your grandmother doesn't see.'
A few seconds later, Angelo was smiling at his grandmother. She hugged him several times, made a comment about his hair being too long and took his hand.
"Come sit with me, Drake," she said. She was the only one in the family who always called him Drake.
He sat beside her.
"You are back home now for good? No more wandering?"
He grinned at her. "I make no promises, Grandma. I think I have the wanderlust."
"Ants in your pants are more like it. Just like your father," she grumbled.
He laughed.
"Now, what college did you choose for next spring?"
"Grandma," he sighed, "I really haven't decided on..."
"You are your father all over. You're going play music in those smoky dens of sin, aren't you?"
"Yes, Grandma." He grinned at her.
She shook her graying head and then laughed.
"You're such a charmer and handsome...or at least you would be, if I could see that face under all that hair."
He laughed again and then comically gathered his hair together in his hand to show her his face. She laughed and then pulled him close to her and held him, rocking him like she did when he was a small boy, as she had his father.
Sophia closed her eyes. The way he felt, the way he smelled, just like his grandfather. She kissed his hair.
My love, she thought, and then hastily withdrew from him, reminding herself that this was not him, it was his grandson. Her l
ove was gone. He had been gone for many years. How had she managed to live an entire lifetime without him?
"Grandma?" Angelo was saying to her now.
"Grandma, are you all right?" She seemed to have gone into a trance.
She nodded. "Yes, dear. Where is Pepi?" She looked around suddenly.
"Talking to Mom, over there in the corner."
"Did you see your uncle yet?"
Angelo nodded. "Yes, and don't worry, okay?" He took her hand.
Pepi came over now and looked at Angelo.
"Ready?"
He stood up.
"Where are you taking my grandson?" Sophia enquired. "I haven't seen him in a dog's age!"
"I need his help with something, Mama, for a few hours, then we're coming back. Listen, Janet will be here, and Mac will be here soon. I just spoke to him on the phone. You remember Mac, don't you, Mama?"
Sophia nodded. "Yes, he's a nice boy...the drummer. Of course I remember him, Pepi, he practically lived at our house when you kids were growing up. Do you think I'm going senile?"
"And Sophia," Janet said, coming to sit down now in the chair that her son had just vacated, "Tony, Johnny's son will be here later on...your other grandson."
She smiled and took Janet's hand, which surprised her. "Thank you for that, dear." She began to ask Janet in detail about how she had managed to contact Tony.
Pepi took the opportunity to leave. Nudging his nephew to move toward the elevator and lifting a hand, he called, "See ya later." He slipped in his code card, the doors opened and they were gone.
* * * * * *
On the way down, Angelo burst into laughter.
"What," Pepi said, "What's so funny?"
"You, and Grandma. That was quite the getaway."
"Ya, well, it's been a while since I've had to answer to anyone, except your dad sometimes can be a pain. I'd forgotten how bossy Mama could be."
"Mothers will be mothers," Angelo said.
Pepi smiled at him. Funny how Angelo could always make him feel so good. It was like being with Drake, having Drake all to himself. "Ya, but you have Janet for a mother. She's cool."
"Ha! You think. Man, Mom can be a royal pain in the ass...like she didn't want me to go to Europe. It was Dad who talked her into giving me her blessing. I would have gone anyway, but she was dead set against it, and this college thing..." He rolled his eyes as the elevator stopped in the underground parking lot.
A security man was waiting. Before Pepi could comment, they were hurried into a blue sedan.
Immediately, they sped away, past the police, past the press and the crowds.
* * * * * *
"Why do you have the impression I don't like you, Ms. Thompson?" Drake looked up at the woman across the table.
She was a large-boned woman, tall in stature, with broad shoulders and steel-grey eyes. Her ash-brown hair was swept up at the nape of her neck.
"Well, because," she lifted her papers off the table with the edge of her thumb and then let them fall back again, "you're not being very cooperative. Would you rather a man as a lawyer?" She lifted one eyebrow.
Drake laughed. "You think I'm sexist, is that it? You'd be far off the beaten track for that one, Ms. Thompson. I assure you, man or woman, if I thought you were incompetent, I'd tell you. It's just that I have nothing else to say."
Francine Thompson studied Drake Russo for a moment. He was brutally handsome, and she had seen him perform; he was immensely talented. It wouldn't take a hell of a lot for a person to fall in love with him. It wasn't only the whole image of who he was that would draw you to him like a magnet. The fact that he was tall and well-built and had beautiful eyes also didn't hurt. But there was actually something special about him. It could have been the light in his eyes or the smooth self-assuredness of his deep voice, but whatever it was, it was quite overpowering. She had felt it the minute she had entered the room, although he had made no attempt to flirt or be fresh with her. In fact, he had been quite exasperating.
"Mr. Russo...Drake...do you want to get out of here?"
"Well, maybe you've hit on the right question finally, Ms. Thompson." He lifted up his hands.
"Maybe I like it here."
"Mr. Russo," Francine sighed, slamming her books shut, "you are wasting my time and yours."
"I want to see my brother, can you arrange it?" He leaned across the desk and fixed her with those liquid brown eyes of his.
"First, before you can see anyone, you have to help me get you out of here. Do you want bail or not? I don't know if they'll go for it. They might, since it is your first offence, and..."
"I don't want bail. I just want to see my brother."
Francine shook her head and stood up. "Give my office a call when you're ready to talk to me, Mr. Russo, otherwise, be prepared to defend yourself."
Drake watched her walk away. The guard came immediately and led him back to his cell. He sat down on the bed. He heard the cell door slam shut, the guard's footsteps retreating down the hall.
He'd had a dream last night. He dreamt that he was burning, burning in the fires of hell, and he begged for mercy.
Johnny was there, standing outside the fire, shaking his head. "I knew when you'd die, you'd call for a priest and confess and look what it brought you...eternal damnation. It's just Mama's Catholic brainwashing, Drake. You never believed in that. When I die, I will never call for a priest, and I will never confess you as a sin, because you're not a sin."
Johnny was crying. "How could you turn that night into something ugly when it was so beautiful, Drake? I'll never forgive for this, never!"
Drake tried to reach out for him, but the flames were engulfing Johnny. He was choking, fading, crying, "I love you, Drake, I'm not dead but I'm burning...burning...I'll burn forever for you, Drake...I love you..."
Drake had wanted to die for a long time, because he couldn't live with the shame. The fact that he couldn't stop wanting him no matter what he did was tearing him apart. Insane. That's what he was, insane.
He had tried once to talk to someone, a psychologist, but he had changed his mind. How in hell could he tell a stranger that he was in love with his brother, when he couldn't even tell his closest friend?
Who could he trust? He could only imagine how much money the media would pay to buy that information. Many people would be tempted, psychologist or not, to sell that kind of gossip for a million dollars or so.
He knew that Johnny had been in therapy for years---many celebrities had a shrink---but whether Johnny risked telling his therapist about their relationship or not, he didn't know. He had asked him what he talked about with his therapist once and Johnny had told him that it was confidential, so that was that.
Drake lay down on the bed, pulling the flat pillow double under his neck. He couldn't sleep. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to do anything. If he couldn't see Johnny, then he would lie here and do nothing.
* * * * * *
"So, how was Europe?" Pepi asked his nephew in the back of the Sedan.
Angelo smiled. "Super...I loved it, especially Paris. Paris is really a beautiful city. I remember going there with you guys when I was fourteen. I fell in love with it then. I had a dream that I'd go back there on my own."
"And the Frenchmen?" Pepi lifted an eyebrow.
"Ooh la la," Angelo teased, and they both laughed as the car stopped at a red light.
"Angelo." Pepi sobered.
"Ya?" He turned to meet his uncle's eyes.
"Would you have even imagined that...?"
The question hung in the air.
Angelo sighed. "Pep, did you know that my dad was desperately unhappy?"
Pepi nodded, looking away.
"I used to worry about him taking his own life, especially this last year. Do you remember Nancy, that fashion model Dad lived with who weighed about seventy pounds?"
"Ya, the anorexic. She lived with him for about three months," Pepi replied.
"Well, just before I left on my
trip, Dad had me over for dinner. When he left the room to get some wine from the wine cellar, Nancy told me that Dad had put a gun in his mouth one night and threatened to blow his head off. Later he had tried to convince her that he had only been kidding, but it had shaken her up pretty badly."
"Ya, well, she was a little dizzy," Pepi mused.
"Ya, I know, but she was really serious when she told me that. Pep, what were Uncle Johnny and Dad fighting about the night of Mac's birthday?"
"What did they ever fight about? I don't know."
"You must remember something."
"Johnny got there late. He missed supper. He showed up with a guy...a couple of guys. I didn't know them. They might have been sound techs or studio musicians. Drake was angry at Johnny anyway for something, and Johnny kept telling him to F off."
"For what?" Angelo insisted.
"I honestly don't know, Angelo. This last year since you've been gone has been hell. They'd get angry at each other for something stupid. None of it made sense."
"It was really bad this last year especially? Why this last year?" Angelo inquired, narrowing his dark eyebrows.
"Something went wrong between them last summer. We needed a vacation, so Frank rented us a summer cottage in the White Mountains. The four of us spent a week out there; your dad, Johnny, Mac and me. We were all having a great time, and then just before we left, something changed between them.
They became unusually distant. They wouldn't even look at each other for a while. They either didn't talk, or they snapped at each other when they did.
"After a while, they mellowed a bit, but nothing was ever the same. Johnny started sleeping around heavy-duty after that...with whoever came along. You know neither one of them has even been an angel in that department, but Johnny really went wild this year. There were sometimes two, three a night. Your dad began drinking more than usual. They didn't hang out together except when they were working.
