Family

His right foot still on the bar rail, Tommy leaned back and spread his arms for effect. His black hair, slicked back, glistened in the dim light of the bar. His dark grey pinstriped suit fit so well the action barely moved his lapels to the side. “I mean c’mon, Bobby, who gets treated like that, eh? Who?”

He absentmindedly adjusted his red tie. The knot was still where it belonged, snug between the collar stays of his immaculate white shirt. The two carat diamond in his pinkie ring glimmered in the dim light.

Bobby Cinzo, the bartender, wiped at an imaginary spot on the bar with the stained, off-white towel. His broad shoulders bulged with the motion, straining his t-shirt, which was tucked into his blue jeans. A toothpick dangling from one corner of his mouth, he said, “Hey, Tommy, who knows? Am I right?” He kept a pen above his right ear. It was almost hidden in the waves of red hair running horizontally back from his temples.

Glass shelves stretched the width of the mirror on the wall behind him. On the shelves were various high end bottles of liquor and neat stacks of glasses. Out of habit, he leaned one hand on the bar and adjusted the plastic container of lemon wedges, then the one of cherries. Then he gripped the chrome bar that marked one side of the waitress station.

That Tommy always chose to stand next to the waitress station was a running joke among his peers. Bobby grinned at the thought, then shifted the toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other with his tongue and shrugged. His reflection shrugged behind him. “Who can figure what a woman’s gonna do or say from one minute to the next, y’know?”

Tommy straightened to his full five feet six inches. He picked up the old fashioned glass and drained his whiskey, then set the glass on the bar. “Yeah, well, I know, see. That’s who knows.” When Bobby didn’t move, Tommy gestured toward his glass. “Hey, hit me, would’ya?” He splayed his hands. “What, I gotta beg for a drink now? I gotta take my business someplace else?” He laughed.

Bobby reached under the bar. “Nah, of course not, Tommy. C’mon.” He poured three fingers of whiskey in the glass as Tommy continued.

“I know, Bobby. That’s the thing. An’ the answer is, nobody. Nobody else gets treated like that.”

Bobby nodded and set the bottle beside the glass.

Tommy looked up at him and gestured toward the bottle. “What’s this? Whaddayou, sayin’ I’m a drunk now? You showin’ me how much I drank, or what?”

Bobby frowned, put up his palms. “What? Hey, no Tommy. It’s just easier than puttin’ it behind the bar, bringin’ it out, puttin’ it behind the bar. See? That’s all.” He gestured toward the bottle. “Besides, I mean look. There’s only maybe one or two more drinks in there, am I right?”

Tommy glanced down at the bottle. “Yeah, well, maybe.” Using the bar rail for leverage, he quickly reached over the bar toward Bobby.

Bobby flinched.

Tommy stopped and looked at him, then laughed. He leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, whaddayou, gettin’ antsy back there? I wouldn’t do nothin’a hurt you, Bobby. You’re my favorite moog, y’know? You’re like family.” He laughed.

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, family’s important.”

After a moment, his voice quieter, Tommy said, “An’ you’re like family ‘cause I can talk to you, y’know?”

“Yeah? ” Bobby wiped at a spot, then draped his bar towel over his left shoulder.

“Yeah.” Tommy glanced down the bar.

At a table near the far end, Big Frankie Mostrello was holding court. The others at the table were Joey “Bones” Salerno, Johnny “Cards” Striliano, Rogelio “Roger Pats” Pastriani and Vincenzo “Vinnie the Snake” Corelli.

Only Vinnie was paying him even the slightest attention. They were involved in their own conversation and seemingly enjoying their own company.

Tommy gestured with his glass, and the Snake nodded slightly.

Then Tommy glanced back at Bobby and leaned a little over the bar.

Bobby leaned forward to listen.

Tommy’s voice was quiet. “Yeah, those guys—” He gestured with his head. “You know. I mean, they’re family, right? An’ they’re okay for some things, but for serious talkin’?” He shook his head.

Bobby nodded and straightened. “Yeah, yeah. I can appreciate that, Tommy. So anyways, this broad you was talkin’ about. She—”

Tommy set his glass down hard. “She ain’t—” He stopped and glanced down the bar.

The men at the table paid him no mind. They were still involved in their own conversation.

Tommy looked up at Bobby. More quietly, he said, “She ain’t no broad, see. She’s a woman, all right? A good woman, you know? Her name’s Marla. Well, Marlene, but she goes by Marla. Anyways, she just got this one flaw that drives me nuts.”

He took a swig of his drink. “Well, I guess her dumpin’ me ain’t a flaw. I mean, if I had a chance, I’d prob’ly dump me too.” He laughed. “But her not takin’ my calls or nothin’, hey, that’s a flaw. An’ that’s what gets to me. You know, like I was sayin’.”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Yeah, that’d do it for me too. An’ I didn’t mean no disrespect, Tommy. You know, vis a vis the broad thing.”

At the table Vinnie glanced in their direction, then went back to his own conversation.

Tommy nodded. “Hey, that’s okay.” He paused, then said, “Or no worries, right? That’s what all the kids say now, ain’t it? No worries? Like they were all born in fuckin’ Australia or somethin’, am I right?” He laughed.

To be friendly, Bobby laughed as well.

Tommy laughed again. “Like they was all born with a good grip on a pair’a alligator balls or somethin’.”

Bobby laughed again.

Then Tommy laughed and nodded. He took another drink. “So you know, I’m just sayin’, you know, about the broad. Sometimes even when we were in bed—” He pumped his right fist lightly and flashed a knowing look at Bobby. “You know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Sometimes even then her stupid phone would ring, right? An’ it was some guy she used to date or somethin’, you know. An’ he was feelin’ bad or he was lonely or he was feelin’ whatever, right? He wasn’t foolin’ me, okay? What he wanted to be feelin’ was what I was feelin’, if you get my drift.”

Bobby grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”

“An’ anyways, she’d talk to him for, you know, five, ten minutes. Sometimes a half-hour. You believe that?”

“Yeah, she talked a lot, eh?”

Tommy canted his head slightly to one side. “What?” He looked away and shook his head. “‘She talked a lot’ the man says.” He looked at Bobby again. “No, she didn’t talk a lot. She talked to this guy while we were together. That’s the point. An’ if I said anything about it, I was bein’ insensitive.” He took another drink, draining the glass. “You get that? I was bein’ insensitive.”

He set it down and tapped the bar next to it with his index finger. “But now, you know, when I call her, it ain’t like what that other guy was doin’. I mean, I ain’t tryin’ to innerupt her if she’s with somebody else. You know, that ain’t what it’s about.”

He paused. “No, see, I just wanna say hi, you know? See how she’s doin’, right? All that. An’ the dumb broad won’t gimme the time’a day.” He looked up at Bobby. “You believe that? I mean, why would she do somethin’ like that?”

That caught the bartender unaware. “Hey, you know, it takes all kinds.”

Tommy frowned. “What? ‘Takes all kinds?’ What the fuck is that? You pick that up at bartender college or what? That ‘takes all kinds’ shit is a patented untruth, my friend. All the weenies like to run around sayin’ shit like ‘It takes all kinds.’ But you know what? It don’t take all kinds. It don’t take all kinds at all. You get the wrong kind, you make him disappear, you know what I mean? An’ the world keeps right on turnin’, like they say in all them songs.”

“Yeah, hey Tommy, I didn’t mean nothin’. You know. It’s just somethin’ stupid that people say. That’s all.”

Tommy looked at him for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Of course I know that. I was just givin’ you a hard time, that’s all. Hey, no hard feelin’s, eh?”

Bobby put up both hands, the bar towel in his left hand, dangling near his shoulder. “What? No, hey, of course no hard feelin’s, Tommy. Hey, you can talk to me, right?”

“What? Of course I can talk to you. That okay?”

“Yeah. No, I’m just sayin’, you can talk to me, right? So of course there’s no hard feelin’s or anything like that, right? That’s all I’m sayin’ Tommy.” He wiped at a spot on the bar. “Hey, so what were you sayin’ about the broa— about the woman? You know, the woman you were talkin’ about?”

What was that? Was the guy making fun of him about wanting to call her a woman instead of a broad? Tommy looked at him for a moment. Maybe not. Still maintaining eye contact, he nodded slightly. “Yeah, well, it’s nothin’, you know.”

He shrugged and looked at the bar, wrapped his right hand around his glass. “It’s just when me an’ her was together, you know, she would’a even took a call from you.” He took a drink. “But now the broad won’t give me the time of day, right?”

Again, Vinnie glanced in their direction. When Tommy turned to glance at the table, Vinnie quickly looked away.

Bobby said, “Yeah, right. Right.” But there was a slight frown on his forehead.

Tommy looked at him. “What? You take exception to somethin’ I said?”

“What? No, no, Tommy. You know, I know you mean ‘cause she don’t know me, right?”

“What?”

“You said she would’a even took a call from me. You know, even though she don’t know me. That’s what you meant.”

“No, that ain’t what I meant.” Tommy sneered. “How the fuck you supposed to tell me what I meant?”

Bobby looked at him, then shrugged. “Yeah, well, you know. I mean, that’s how I took it so—”

“So you don’t wanna know? What, like what I say don’t matter to you now?”

“No, Tommy. You know, it don’t matter. Hey, ‘cause you can talk to me, right? I don’t take no offense, especially when— I mean—”

“Yeah, yeah. Explain that to me, Bobby. Explain to me what you mean. Especially when what, huh? You sayin’ I’m drunk again? I mean, you sayin’— again— that I’m drunk?”

“No, Tommy. I wouldn’t say that. C’mon, man.”

“Yeah? Then especially when what?”

“You know, just she dumped you an’ when you was together she talked to other guys. An’ she’d even take a call from me, whom she don’t know from Adam, but now she won’t take a call from you even just to say hi.”

“No, that ain’t it. She was a whore, Bobby. The woman was a fuckin’ slut.”

Vinnie glanced up again and slightly shook his head. He turned to Frank and said something.

Tommy continued. “Even when we was bein’ intimate, she’d put me off to answer the phone for some mama’s boy, cryin’ boo hoo an’ tellin’ her some fuckin’ sob story.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant, Tommy.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t what I meant, see. I meant she’d even take a call from you.”

“Yeah, right, ‘cause she don’t even know me so that wouldn’t make sense.”

“No, wrong.” Tommy reached under his coat at the small of his back and brought a revolver around. “You don’t listen, Bobby.” He pointed the gun at the bartender.

Bobby threw up his hands in front of him as if to ward off the bullets. “No! Oh god, Tommy! Don’t!”

“I meant ‘cause she’d even talk to a low-life fuckin’ bartender!” He squeezed the trigger, then again, again, again.

Bobby slammed back against the glass shelves. Bottles and glasses went everywhere.

Big Frankie ducked around the end of the bar. Joey Bones, Cards and Roger Pats produced pistols and crouched, ready to take on the attackers.

But there was only Tommy Morliani, grinning. He had both hands up toward them, the revolver still smoking in his right hand. “Hey, it’s all right guys. It’s all right, eh? Just havin’ some fun with my main moog Bobby here.” He turned back to look at Bobby. “Hey, Bobby, tell ‘em.”

Bobby Cinzo was still pressed back against the mirror, his eyebrows arched, his mouth gaping. The shelves and liquor and glasses were shattered around his feet. His hands were clasped over the center of his chest.

He looked down at his hands as he moved them away from his chest for a moment. They were covered in warm, sticky blood and a red stain was seeping through his white t-shirt. He looked at Tommy, shook his head slightly. “Tommy? You— you shot me, Tommy.” He frowned. “Why?” Then he crumpled.

Tommy burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.” He slipped his revolver under his coat behind his back again. Then he stood on the bar rail and leaned as far over the bar as he could. “Good one, Bobby.” He paused. “C’mon, y’moog. Get up. I know you ain’t hurt. They were blanks.” Tommy laughed again.

But Bobby didn’t move.

Only Vinnie saw what happened. He whispered something to Joey Bones, then sat down at the table again. Roger Pats and Frank joined him a moment later. Cards moved quickly around behind the far end of the bar and started toward Bobby.

Tommy was still peering over the bar. He had stopped laughing. “C’mon, Bobby. Quit fuckin’ around. You can’t get killed with blanks.”

Joey Bones came up. At six-four, he towered over Tommy. “So what’s goin’ on, Tommy?”

Behind the bar, Cards crouched beside Bobby.

Tommy grinned and gestured. “This guy, eh? We were givin’ each other a hard time an’ he gets smart, right? Like he always does.” He laughed. “I knew he’d pull that shit again, so I put three blanks in my gun.”

Card looked up at Joey from behind the bar and shook his head, then stood and headed back toward the table.

Joey’s gaze was steady as he looked down at Tommy. Quietly, he said, “Three?”

“Yeah. I loaded three blanks in my gun.” He finished off his drink.

“Yeah. Well, you fired four times, Tommy.”

Tommy was still grinning as he looked up at Joey. “What?”

“You fired four times.”

“So what, I fired four times? What difference does that make?”

“You loaded three blanks but you fired four times. He’s dead, Tommy. You shot him.”

Tommy looked at him for a moment, the grin still in place as the information sunk in. Then he turned slightly to his right, set his glass down hard and scowled. He looked at Joey again. He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yeah, well the fuckin’ moog deserved it, didn’t he? Always fuckin’ with a guy like that. I shouldn’a put no blanks in the gun.”

Joey took his elbow and began to turn him around. “C’mon, Tommy. You gotta go see—”

“Hey, he fuckin’ deserved it, Joey. Guy was no good.”

Joey stopped. “Yeah, well, deserved it or not, the guy was Frankie’s nephew. You gotta make this right.”

Tommy jerked his arm away and pointed the index finger of his right hand between Joey’s eyes. “You ain’t stompin’ around in here tellin’ me what to do, you unnerstand? Big ain’t all there is to life. I’m a made fuckin’ guy, same as you. I’ll talk to Frankie, a’right? I’ll do what I gotta do, but I don’t need no help.”

Joey looked at him. He wanted to squash Tommy like the bug he was, but he just nodded. “Sure. Sure, Tommy. Go ahead.” Then he leaned closer. His voice was quiet. “An’ after that, you take my advice an’ go sleep it off, you unnerstand? You go curl up with some whore somewhere an’ you sleep it off. An’ then tomorrow maybe you can find somebody else to tell your fuckin’ little sob stories to. But don’t find somebody good like Bobby or I’ll drill you myself.”

Tommy took a step back and sneered. “You won’t hit me. I’m made, same as you.”

Again, Joey leaned in close. His breath was hot on Tommy’s cheek. “You are nothin’ like me, boy. You think Frankie won’t give me the go ahead?”

Tommy stared at him for a moment, and a foolish urge crept into his eyes.

Barely above a whisper, Joey said, “Go ahead, little man. Jump.”

Tommy remained eye to eye with Joey for only another second before turning away.

He tugged at his suit smartly, as if to straighten his dignity, then walked toward the table where Big Frankie Mostrello was sitting, talking quietly with Cards Striliano and Roger Pats.

The front door had just closed behind Vinnie the Snake.

*

Frankie looked at Striliano. “So I says to this guy, you know, I can’t front you nothin’, y’know? ‘Cause I front you, right away I gotta front everybody else who—”

“Hey Frankie.” Tommy, standing to Frankie’s right, rapped on the table with his knuckles. He grinned broadly.

Frank Mostrello maintained eye contact with Striliano for another second. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Then he slowly turned his head to the right. He looked up and caught Tommy in his steady gaze.

Tommy forced the grin to remain. “So hey, Joey Bones tells me Bobby was your nephew or somethin’ like that. I just wanted’a say, you know, I didn’t know.”

Frank frowned. He considered giving Tommy a quick lesson on table manners, but the guy was obviously screwed up on booze. Finally he nodded. He spoke slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, he was my sister’s kid. But hey, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t know. So, you know.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. “‘Course, what you did, that was pretty sloppy. I mean, shootin’ blanks, you know—” He cocked his head. “Eh, maybe that was a good prank. An’ I see the point. But leavin’ live ammo in the gun—” He shook his head. “I don’t know that was good judgment, you know?”

Tommy shrugged and grinned. “Well yeah, Frankie. You know, I mean maybe, but—”

“Could even make a guy wonder if maybe the whole thing was on purpose, y’know? You see my point here, Tommy?”

“Oh. Yeah. No, it wasn’t nothin’ like that, Frank.”

“Only thing is, there wouldn’t be no reason behind it, right? I mean, he wasn’t workin’ with the cops or the feds, right? To your knowledge?”

Tommy frowned. “No, Frankie. Of course not.”

“Or he wasn’t bein’ a spy for Lotranno, right? Spyin’ for the competition wouldn’t be good.”

Tommy shook his head. Frank was playing with him. “No, no sir he wasn’t, as far as I know.”

“So then there wouldn’t be no good reason to pop him, right?”

“Right, Frankie. Right. An’ like I was just sayin’ to Joey Bones—”

“At least not without my say so, right? ‘Cause this is family, an’ in this family, I’m kind’a the dad, right?”

“Right Frankie.”

“Right. So I got the say so on all that, right? So nobody gets whacked without my say so.”

“Right.”

“But then, you didn’t mean to whack him. You were just playin’ a prank an’ it got outta hand, right?”

“Right, Frankie. An’ that’s what I was just sayin’ to—”

“Then again, pickin’ on that kid in the first place. Just stupid, am I right? I mean, my nephew or not, he was just a good kid, right?” He gestured and looked at his two companions. “I mean, he put up with us, am I right?” He laughed, but there was no joy in it.

It was obvious Big Frankie was enjoying himself, and it was all at Tommy’s expense. Tommy put his hands up in front of him and that same cocky grin crossed his face. “Hey, Frankie, I said I was sorry, a’right? So—”

Frankie’s right hand shot up. He grabbed Tommy’s necktie just below the knot and jerked hard on it. The cruelest look Tommy had ever seen crossed the big man’s face, but his voice was quiet. “Kneel.”

Tommy knelt, the grin gone and his face a shade of pale. “Frankie, I—”

Frankie bent toward him. “You shuddup. First, no, you didn’t say you were sorry. You only said you didn’t know he was my nephew, like that’s some kind’a excuse.

“Second, I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. I’m gonna assume whatever you were drinkin’ down there makes you think it’s okay to take that tone with me, okay? But you need to know, it ain’t.

“An’ third, it looked like Joey Bones was givin’ you some advice. Whatever it was, take it to the bank, Tommy. You got that?” Frankie released Tommy’s tie with a slight shove.

Tommy stood up and took a half-step back. He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Frankie, I got it. An’—”

But Frankie had already turned back to his companions. “No. You’re done talkin’.” He wagged his right hand. “Go away.”

Tommy opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it. He nodded and turned toward the door. Just before he exited, he glanced back and glared at Joey Bones, who was still standing near the bar.

Joey nodded and shrugged. He hoped the little creep decided to bring it. As the door closed, he walked along the bar to rejoin Big Frankie, Cards and Roger Pats.

At the table, he stopped and pulled out a chair. “Hey Frankie.”

“Bones.” Frank looked at him. “You make him understand?”

Joey shrugged. “Maybe. You know.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah, well. It’s okay. What I figured. Snake’s got the paper on him.”

Joey nodded. “Yeah. Good.” He looked across the table at Cards and Roger Pats. “Hey, you guys been to that new place, Marciano’s? Buffalo and 96th? Supposed to be great pasta over there. Family place.”

Frankie pushed his chair back and stood. “Yeah, well, I could eat.”

The others stood as well.

Frankie said, “Besides, the guys’ll be here soon for Bobby. Might as well get a bite, eh?” He glanced at Cards. “So, you drivin’?”

“Sure thing, Frankie.”

“Yeah. Hey, you mind we swing by and pick up Marla?”

* * * * * * *