At Peace

Vinnie Junior never got that and Vinnie Senior never admitted out loud that his son made mistakes with the choices he made in his life and the way he’d fucked up everything for himself and for Frankie.

“You unleash Sal or I do it. One of us calls the marker,” Cal ordered. “And we do it for Vi and, I’m tellin’ you in case you haven’t figured it out yet bein’ around her and those girls, there’s no better fuckin’ reason to do it. Daniel Hart took away her man, her kids’ father and her brother. They were tight. All of them. He could have destroyed her. He could have brought her low. He could have changed those girls. He could have made her Bonnie. He keeps goin’ –”

Vinnie cut him off. “I’ll call the marker.”

Cal crossed his arms back on his chest, demanding, “Do it now.”

“Now?” Vinnie asked.

“Right now,” Cal said.

“But…” Vinnie looked toward the house then back at Cal, “pancakes.”

“Now,” Cal repeated.

Vinnie stared at him and Cal held his stare.

Then Vinnie pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket.

“Christ, son,” he muttered on a sigh.

“He needs to have a word with me, I’m standin’ right here,” Cal offered.

Vinnie looked to the heavens. Then he flipped open his phone. Then he called Sal.

The door slid open and both men’s heads jerked that way to see Kate walking out, Cal’s phone in her hand.

“Hey, Joe,” she said as Vinnie smiled at her and then wandered down the deck steps and out into the wet grass. “Colt’s on your phone.”

Cal took his phone from her when she got close. Then he lifted his other hand and tugged gently at her hair.

“Thanks, girl,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” she grinned, glanced at Vinnie who was now several feet into the yard, his back to the deck, his head bent, his hand to his hip and his other hand to his ear. Kate turned and skipped back to the door, went inside and closed it behind her.

Cal put the phone to his ear.

“Yo.”

“Need you at the Station, man,” Colt said without greeting and Cal’s back went straight as a bad feeling hit his gut.

“Why?” he asked.

“How soon can you get here?” Colt asked.

“Why?” Cal repeated, losing patience.

“You need a brief,” Colt explained.

“About?” Cal prompted.

“Some things you need to know. Some new things have happened,” Colt told him.

“Hart?” Cal asked.

“Yep,” Colt answered.

“Fuck,” Cal bit off.

“You had a bunch of cars in your drive yesterday. You guys still have company or do I have to send out a squad?” Colt asked casually but this question wasn’t casual. This question set that bad feeling in his gut to toxic.

“We got company,” Cal said and looked at Vinnie, “but send a squad.”

“Right,” Colt muttered. “He’ll be unobtrusive,” Colt assured him.

“Don’t care if he sits in the fuckin’ driveway,” Cal replied as he walked to the sliding glass doors, “just want him here before I go.”

“Copy that,” Colt said and Cal flipped his phone closed.

He whistled and Vinnie jerked around to look at him. Cal lifted his hand and flicked his finger in the air. Vinnie nodded. Cal turned, slid open the door and walked through, wracking his brain as to what he’d say to Vi to explain his needing to go to the Station.

Then he slid the door closed behind him.

*

Dad, Gary and Uncle Vinnie were outside in the front yard inspecting the sod Joe and Keira had laid. I was sitting in the living room with Bea and Aunt Theresa. We were sipping coffee with the girls on the floor playing with Mooch. I was thinking about Joe’s hasty exit which he vaguely explained and also thinking about the squad car that was parked across the street, the fact that it slid up and stopped before Joe kissed me and walked out the door and the fact that it didn’t move an inch in the ten minutes Joe had been gone.

These thoughts exited my head when Aunt Theresa picked up her big, mailbag sized purse and plopped it on her lap.

“Who knows how long Cal’ll be gone, gotta get this done,” Aunt Theresa muttered, sounding distracted but in a businesslike way and I looked at her then at Bea then at the girls.

“What done?” Keira asked but Aunt Theresa didn’t look up from rummaging around in her small-piece-of-luggage-sized purse.

“You find the time but you find it to give him this,” she ordered oddly. “It’s time Cal had Nicky back.”

I sucked in breath at her words and my eyes flew to Kate but Kate and Keira were both staring at Aunt Theresa’s bag.

“Who’s Nicky?” Bea whispered.

“Cal’s son,” Aunt Theresa answered without even a little ado then went on still without any, “died when he was a baby. Stupid skank of a wife left him in the bath. Drowned…” Bea gasped and her eyes came to me but Aunt Theresa pulled out a big square thing wrapped in a black scarf and turned to me. Whipping off the scarf, she announced, “Nicky.”

Then she handed me a photo frame.

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