Kenny smothered an expletive under his breath. “You’ve made the decision to leave the priesthood to marry her and legitimize your son?”
Ray nodded. “She hasn’t agreed to marry me, but that doesn’t matter. I intend to have a relationship with my boy, and I can’t do that if I’m totally committed to the Church.”
“Have you talked to the boy?” Frankie asked.
“No. I’m waiting for Micky to contact me for a time and place when that can happen.”
“So, she wasn’t lying when she said she was carrying your baby,” Kenny said, meeting Ray’s eyes behind the lenses of his own glasses.
“No. But I refused to believe her, because we never had unprotected sex.”
“I could’ve told you that you had a son,” Frankie announced, smiling.
“Either the coke or the wine has gotten to you, Frankie, because you’re talking crazy,” Ray said, accusingly.
Kenny sat up straight. “What the hell are you talking about, Ray?”
“You don’t know, Kenny?” Ray asked.
“Know what?” Kenny retorted.
“That our brother is a cokehead. He’s snorted so much that he can’t stop his nose from running. And don’t you dare tell us that you have a cold, Francis D’Allesandro, because we’re not dumb or stupid!”
Frankie held the handkerchief to his nose. “I’ll admit to snorting a few lines every once in a while, whenever I’m stressed out.”
Kenny moved closer to the end of his seat. “You were so stressed out that you come to my home high, Frankie? And I hope you don’t have any of that shit on you, because if you do, then I want you to walk the fuck out of here and get rid of it!”
Frankie buried his face in his hands. “I swear I don’t have any on me.”
“What kind of stress are you having?” Ray asked him.
Frankie lowered his hands, blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I really love this girl, but she won’t let me touch her. She says she won’t sleep with a man unless she’s married.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Ray questioned.
Frankie glared at him. “Everything. I’m not going to marry a woman, then find out she’s no good in bed.”
“Marriage isn’t all about sex.”
“Spoken from a man who hasn’t seen or touched pussy in ten years,” Frankie spat out.
“That’s enough, Frankie,” Kenny warned. “Either you respect Ray’s chosen vocation, or you can leave. I invited everyone here so we can catch up on what has been going on in our lives since Uncle Dee’s funeral, not to attack or insult one another.”
Frankie glared at Kenny. “One thing I can take is a hint, because this is the second time you’ve talked about showing me the door. You wouldn’t have this place if my uncle hadn’t given you and your mother a shitload of money. You’re the son he always wanted, and your mother the wife he could never have.”
Spittle had formed at the corners of his mouth when he glared at Ray. “And you want to know how I knew about your son? Well, I’ll tell you. I went to my uncle and asked him if he could find some people to take out the guys who beat you the fuck up, and he did. He paid them, and they did what they had to do to make certain they would never hurt anyone ever again. That’s when he told me the girl had your kid, because her boyfriend was locked up for six months when she was fucking you. But he made me promise never to say anything about the dudes who took care of your attackers or about the kid. And didn’t you wonder why you’d been beaten up and left for dead?”
“I know why I was assaulted, Frankie. Because one of my attackers told me it was retribution for, as he put it, ‘fucking with his lady.’ It was because I was sleeping with Migdalia Hernandez, who’d been his girlfriend before he was locked up. You didn’t have to say anything, because when I saw her last week, she told me everything.” Ray paused, slowly shaking his head. “You’re not to be trusted, Frankie. You broke your promise to your uncle.”
“Don’t you dare preach to me, Father Torres! Or judge me. Yes, I dabble in drugs, but I asked my uncle to do something he didn’t want to do because of you, Ray. When I saw you lying in that hospital bed with tubes and machines keepingyou alive, all I thought about was getting revenge on those who’d put you in that bed. My godfather did it because if anyone else had asked him what I did, he would’ve turned his back on them without a backwards glance. My uncle wasn’t a gangster, but in that instance, he became one when he paid people to exact revenge forme, and I know it was something that bothered him for years. Something he told me he’d confessed to Father Morelli before he died.”
Kenny groaned. “Damn, brothers. I thought us getting together wouldn’t turn into a gripe and therapy session where we’re divulging things that are better left unsaid.”
Frankie managed a lopsided grin. “Blame it on the coke.”
“Spoken just like a junkie,” Kenny accused. “And don’t you dare deny you’re not addicted to the stuff. Have you forgotten, number man, that I’m a social worker who will encourage clients to go into rehab if they hope to regain custody of their children. And the ones who really want their children will do it, and those who are ambivalent will continue to abuse, because they’re afraid to face reality when they’re clean and sober. The fact is that your girlfriend isn’t the only excuse why you’re using, so if you don’t want to lose her, then I suggest you seek counseling.”
“Can I come to you?” Frankie asked Kenny.
