We finished our meal in silence, and after, Carmine made us espresso. “Come.” He pointed to the living room. “Let’s sit.”
The three of us trailed behind him, Frankie and me taking a seat on the sofa, Carmine in “his” chair, and Jeannie in a high-backed chair.
“NowI’mgonna say something ’cause I’ve been sitting listening to this for a while, and here’s how I see it.”
I could feel Frankie’s tension. From our talks, I knew how much he respected his father and sought his approval, which made me want Carmine to see I wasn’t the same person I used to be. I wanted to be a new person. For Frankie. For us.
“You, Aaron, may have been with my son for three years, but you never treated him good. I seen your type. It don’t matter that you’re gay or whatever. You thought you wore the pants. You were a macho man, and Frankie was only important to you because of the wayhemadeyoufeel.”
I ground my teeth, but out of respect, I remained silent.
“But see, my kids don’t need other people to tell them they’re worth something. They know it. Unnerstan’?” He pointed to Frankie. “It don’t make no difference to me if he’s gay or straight or whatever. He’s a good man. He’s kind and cares about his family. A good heart, like hisnonnaalways said. And you”—he pointed at me—“you don’t get to abuse that. You gotta learn he’s equal to you. He may not be a muscleman and tough, but he’s got it up here, ya know?” He tapped his head. “He’s got a brain and he’s smart. He don’t need you. I think you need him, if you ask me, ’cause Frankie’s got it all together. A good job, friends, and us.”
“Dad,” Frankie interjected, “that’s not nice.”
“It’s okay.” I swallowed my hurt. “He’s right. I know it. I don’t got what Frankie has. I never did. My parents didn’t give a shit. No one did, but I ain’t making excuses for it. I did, but not anymore. I had plenty of time to think about what I was gonna do when I got out. And you know what?” Frankie’s hand rested on my back, comforting me. “It always came back to becoming a better person, a better man to show Frankie I was good enough for him. You can like me or not. I can’t make you. But I’m gonna do right by Frankie. ’Cause I don’t wanna lose him a second time. I know I’m all outta chances.”
Frankie hugged me, but I remained stiff, continuing to stare at Carmine and Jeannie. “You’re amazing. And you’re gonna show everyone. I know.”
No words from Frankie could give me what I needed. Belief in myself. “Gimme a sec.” I walked over to Carmine and stuck out my hand. “Look, Mr. Marone. I can’t take back what was. If I could, you ain’t got no idea how different things would be for me. And I ain’t only talking about the stuff with Frankie. But I’m giving you my word that Frankie and me are on the right track now. And I’m gonna make sure he knows it every day.”
If there was skepticism in Carmine’s eyes, I couldn’t find it. He took my hand and shook it. “Okay. Prove us wrong.”
Now the hardest part. Leaving Carmine’s side, I faced Jeannie, who sat with a tight, uncompromising face. “Don’t expect me to be as nice as him.” She tipped her chin at Carmine, who’d resumed sipping his espresso. “The problem is, I gotta long memory. I don’t forget when people hurt my family. And don’t let Frankie brush it under the rug. You hurt him. Bad.”
“Ma. You know he never laid a hand on me.”
“So you say.”
“I mean, we pushed and shoved each other, not gonna lie.” That woman had eyes that pierced right through me. I swear she’d know if I lied, so why do it? Start off fresh the right way. With nothing but the truth.
“And you cursed him, didn’t you? Called him names? Said you’d find a better man?” Her hands twisted in her lap. “You said all that to hurt him, didn’tcha?”
I hung my head, ashamed at hearing it spoken out loud. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I did.”
“You ain’t never gonna find a better man than Frankie. So I need more than your words to prove it. Because I ain’t gonna let my son end up at the bottom of a staircase again. Next time he might not come out of it so lucky.”
“I didn’t push him.”
“Ma, he didn’t push me,” Frankie said with me, in unison.
“You say it, but I don’t buy it,” Jeannie cried out. “All I know is, you were together, and next thing I know, I’m hearing from the police that my son is in the hospital after the neighbors called them about a fight. And I can’t forget walking into that room and seeing you hooked up to those machines.” At those words she had to stop, wipe her eyes, and catch her breath. “That’s something I can’t unsee. So I’ll reserve my judgment on you longer than the few months you’ve been out of prison. I’ll wait until you and Frankie disagree about somethin’ and you don’t call him names. Or when Frankie wants to spend time with his friends and you feel left out and tell him he can’t go.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Do you want him to fail, Ma? Is that it?” Frankie stood by my side. “Can’t you give him credit for trying?”
“I am. I’m letting him in my house every week.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Frankie took my hand and pulled me with him. “We’re going outside for a minute.”
Together we left the house and sat on the front steps. Not many cars passed by at this time. Most people were settling in after dinner to watch television. It was peaceful to sit and listen to the leaves from the big oak trees move in the night breeze. Across the street, the Vigliamente family had redone their garden, and the faint scent of the many rose bushes they’d planted reached me. I breathed in their fragrance with appreciation.
Frankie rubbed his sneaker against mine. “She’s not gonna give in, at least not tonight. Do you wanna go?”
“I’m okay with it.” Regaining Frankie’s trust was my number-one concern, but I also knew how important his family was to him. “I get where your mother’s coming from. I gotta prove I’ve changed for myself first. And for you. Everyone else is secondary. Know what I mean?”
A smile curved Frankie’s lips, lighting his face. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you? ’Cause I am.” He laid his head on my shoulder.
