Skin Games (23 page)

He nodded.  “I see.”  He swiveled in his chair and reached under his desk.  “Pretty sneaky of Mario sending you here after all.”

“Sir?”

Underneath his desk was a small cardboard box.  Wally slid it out, and in there was a tin strong box.  He twisted the combination lock and flipped it open.  He took out a wad of bills held together by a rubber band.  Without counting it, he handed it to me.

“Here you go, Sean O’Donnell.  Tell Mario to fuck off.”

I took the money.  “Yes, sir.  I’ll pass along the message.”

“You do that.”

Griff and I walked quickly down the dark corridor and back into the club.  We headed straight for the door.  Nicole’s BMW was safe and sound where I left it.  The guy was still outside, bundled up and freezing his ass off as he guarded the cars in the lot.

“Thanks for lookin’ out,” I said as I got in the car, then sped off.

Lunchtime the next day, I went to Costa’s.  The black Mercedes Benz sedan was parked in front when I got there.  I pulled the BMW in behind it and put change in the meter for both cars.

“Hi,” I said to Nicole as I sat down.

She hopped up and put a huge smile on her face.  “Hi, sweetie.”  Nicole planted a big kiss on my cheek and fell into my lap.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.  Just hungry for a slice.”

“Gino,” she called.

“Your usual.  Coming right up.”

“How is your mother?”

“Not good.  I’m going to head over there.  I just needed to eat first, to get up my strength.”  I leaned towards her, smelling her shampoo.  “And I wanted to see you.”

She kissed me again, on the lips this time.  “I missed you, too.”

Gino dropped the slice on the table in front of me and said jokingly, “You two get a room.  This is a family joint.”

“Ha.  Ha,” Nicole said.  She got up off my lap and returned to her own seat.  She took a bite of her slice and then asked, “How is my father treating you?”

I didn’t want to answer, but silence hung in the air for a spell, and I knew she wasn’t going to let it go.  “Fine.  Everything is fine.”  I wasn’t a great liar.  Especially to her.

“Tell me the truth.  He promised he’d leave you alone.”

“He’s been fine.  He’s giving me some work.  Extra chances to make cash so I can be a good provider for you.”

She held the slice in her mouth as if it was the only way to keep herself from calling out my bullshit.

“What?  It’s the truth,” I said.

Her mouth was full of cheese and fresh tomatoes, and she was suddenly very unladylike as she muttered, “If you say so.”

I quickly shoveled down the slice and said, “I’m off to the hospital.”

She stood up along with me.  “I’d like to come with you.  That is, if I’m welcome.”  Her voice was soft and meek.  I couldn’t say no to her.

“Of course you’re welcome.  Come on.”

We settled up with Gino and walked out to the cars.

“Did you put money in my meter?” she asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Very funny.  Meet you over there?”

“Yeah.  Okay.”

* *

The smell hit me as soon as I got off the elevator.  That distinct hospital odor: a mixture of pain and fear interwoven into a quilt of despair.  You could get a faint whiff of it when you walked into the lobby, but once you set foot on the fifth floor, it overcame your olfactory senses with a vengeance.  It was undeniable.  The patients on this ward were tasting their mortality, and even if their ailments weren’t contagious, the quilt of despair draped over everyone who entered the hallway.

Mr. Griffin was pacing the freshly buffed tiles, and as soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up, and he waved at me and called out, “Hurry, son.  Come.  Your mother needs you.”

I broke into a trot even though I knew I wasn’t really supposed to.  As I passed the nurses’ station, I made eye contact with one of the nurses, a young one I’d never seen before.  She looked as if she was about to scold me but didn’t say a word.

“What?  What is it?” I asked as I turned the corner into my mother’s room.

Mrs. Griffin was sitting in the chair next to the bed.  She saw me, hopped up and quickly walked over.  Before I could get into the room, she pushed me backwards towards the doorway.

The four of us huddled at the edge of the room.  Nicole grabbed my hand and squeezed it.  Mr. and Mrs. Griffin looked at each other, each waiting for the other to speak.

It was Mrs. Griffin who finally did.  “She’s not good.  The doctor said she’s going faster than they expected.  The cancer is just too aggressive.”

“What does that mean?”

“They aren’t going to transfer her to the hospice.”

“Why not?”  I knew why not, and it wasn’t to send her home early with a clean bill of health.

“They don’t expect her to last much longer.  Moving her at this stage will only make her more miserable.  I’m so sorry, Sean.”

I’ve known Mrs. Griffin my entire life.  I guess she was sort of like an aunt to me.  She took hold of my shoulders and then pulled me in close with a strength I never knew she had.  She hugged me so hard; it was her only way of sharing my pain.  She wanted to hug the anguish out of me, but we all knew that just wasn’t possible.

Mr. Griffin pulled me off gently as he said, “You should go inside now, son.  You should be with her.”

Mrs. Griffin sniffled, smiled, then said, “Yes.  Of course you should.”

They parted, each one stiff as a stone tablet, and I walked in between them.  I turned back and looked at Nicole.

“Should I?”  She didn’t finish her sentence.

“Maybe I should have a moment alone with her,” I said.

She nodded.  “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.  I took a deep breath, then I walked into the room.  I guess I was expecting to see a ghost or have someone jump out from behind a curtain and yell like I was in a haunted house at an amusement park or something.  I wasn’t thinking rationally for that moment.  I turned the corner, and there she was: my mother.  Not a boogey man.  Not some dude in makeup waiting to spook me.  Just my mother.  The woman who gave birth to me, raised me, and stuck by me through thick and thin.  Who busted her ass to provide for me.  Who tried to do the right thing even though life was rarely easy for her.

And here she was, lying on a hospital bed, dying.

She was lying down, breathing heavily.  There were several tubes coming out of her arms and a few more machines than the day before.  Each machine made some kind of weird noise: one slurped, one beeped, another clicked.  I didn’t know what any of them were for.  When I looked at her face, it was whiter than before.  Her lips were thinner; her mouth was drier.  But I could still recognize her.  Maybe it sounds dramatic, but in my crazy, fucked up and frazzled mind, I thought she’d look different.  She basically just looked thirsty and tired.

“Hi, Mom.”

She reached out; her hand was white with thin green veins bulging out.  When we touched, she was brittle and bone dry.  It had only been one day, but the deterioration of her body was rapid; she was withering before my eyes.  I wanted to break into tears but wouldn’t let myself.

“Hello.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Right as rain.”

“Sure.”

“How’s that girlfriend of yours?”

“Great.”

“I wish there was more time.  I’d like to get to know her better.”

“There will be plenty of time.  You just concentrate on getting yourself better so you can come home.”

“Sean, we both know that isn’t possible.”

Hearing her say it out loud was the clincher.  It started slowly, just a lone tear that snuck out of my left eyeball and ran down my cheek, dropping quickly to the tiles on the floor.  But it was soon followed by another, and like an army of ants charging a picnic my tears multiplied.  I leaned onto the bed and buried my head in her chest.

She didn’t cry along with me.  It was amazing: her strength and courage.  To hold in the pain she was surely feeling to simply comfort me.  To this day I’m in awe of the strength she possessed even as her body failed her.

I gathered myself together and said, “Nicole is here now.  If you want to get to know her, now is the time.”

“I’d like that.”

It took all I had to peel myself from her chest and get my body upright.  Once I did and I walked towards the hallway, a transformation took place.  I didn’t want Nicole to see me that way.  I couldn’t allow myself to look weak.

I poked my head out into the hallway and said, “Hey.”

She was leaning against the far wall talking with Mrs. Griffin.  Mr. Griffin was reading a newspaper a few feet away.

“Hi.  Are you okay?” Nicole asked.

“Yeah.  Fine.  Come on in.  Mom wants to get to know you better.”

“Okay.  Of course.”

We walked back inside, and I pulled the chair out and offered it to Nicole.  “Sit.”

“No, no.  You.”

“I insist.”

The standoff lasted a couple of seconds, but Nicole could see I wasn’t giving in.  So she took the seat.  I stood just to the side of her.

My mother did her best to sit up.  Nicole and I both jumped to help her, but she pushed us off and wiggled herself into a sitting position.

“So you’re the girl who holds my son’s heart.”

Nicole smiled and her nose wrinkled, which not only made me melt, but I think even the thick frost that surrounded my mother thawed just a little.

“He holds mine, too,” Nicole said.

“I can see that.  You two make a beautiful couple.  I’ll bet you’ll make beautiful grandchildren one day.”

“Mom, please.”

“I’m sorry.  I know.  Can’t a mother have a fantasy?”

“Sure, Ma.”

“Even though I won’t live to see them, I can still dream.”

“Of course you can.” 

I looked over at Nicole.  She smiled at me.  I wouldn’t have blamed her if she ran out of the room horrified.  But she didn’t.  She hung in there, trying to reassure my mother and give a dying woman a little something to smile about.

“You two promise to be good to one another.”

“Of course we will,” I said.

Nicole agreed.  “We will.  Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. O’Donnell.  Sean is in good hands.”

“What you guys have right now, this is once in a lifetime.  Some people go their entire lifetime without finding it.  Look into each other’s eyes.”

We looked at each other.  It was an odd feeling, wanting to smile, laugh, giggle even, at a time of sorrow and in a place where morbidity hung in the air, but as we looked at each other, we smiled.

“Yes,” my mother whispered.  “That’s nice.”

The thrill of gazing at each other held us for a moment, and when I turned to my mother, she was asleep.  For just a second, I got scared.  But I could hear her breathing, and knew she was okay, for the moment anyway.  I gave Nicole a kiss.

“You should probably go home.”

“I can stay with you as long as you like.”

“No.  You go home.  We’ll have lunch tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She got up, and just as she reached the door, I called out.  “Nicole.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, and her nose wrinkled again.  “Bye.”

She walked away, and I sat in the chair and lay with my mother for awhile.

* *

I wish I could tell you the next two days were easy.  I wish I could tell you my mother died peacefully in her sleep at night.  I wish I could tell you that.

Truth was the next two days were among the most horrible of my life.  She was in constant pain.  The nurses did what they could.  The morphine doses were enough so that she could nap here and there, but the naps got shorter and shorter, the pain medication having less and less effect.  It was an awful thing to watch.

But watch I did.  I stayed there by her side, breaking my lunch date with Nicole.  Worse perhaps, breaking my date with Don Mario.  I was still holding on to Wally McGee’s payoff money.  I’d square that up.  The money wasn’t going anywhere, and I guess that was okay because I didn’t hear from Vinny.  Of course, neither did my mother.

Her skin turned yellow at the end.  She didn’t eat a morsel for those two days.  She groaned a lot, although they got lower and lower in volume as her strength faded away.

I don’t understand how it could have happened so fast.  She was sick for a few weeks, and I guess she lost some weight, but I hardly noticed.  I’m not a doctor.  What do I know?  From start to finish, it couldn’t have been more than a month, maybe two.  They tell me pancreatic cancer is an aggressive form, and sometimes there aren’t many symptoms.  Maybe the tumors were growing in her body for months or even years undetected.

The final moments were somewhat anticlimactic.  She was heavily sedated.  There were tubes put in her airway to help her breathe.  Technically, she died of pneumonia.  I was by her side.  I did the best I could for her.  I wish I could have done more.  Sitting by her bedside, I had a lot of time to think.  Time to think about priorities, and about my life and how I’d live it.  I was an adult and alone in the world.  I owed it to my mother to live in a way she’d be proud.  No matter what blows life was to deal me, I wouldn’t let her down.

I pulled up to the Cucina in Nicole’s BMW.  It felt a little weird to drive up to Mario’s restaurant in his daughter’s BMW.  A car he surely paid for.  It’d probably piss him off to see it, but he was downstairs in the private dining room stuffing his face anyway.

Scrubby wasn’t, though.  He was standing at the window, sipping a Bud, eyeballing me as I got out of the car.  Griff was standing next to him.

I walked into the restaurant and nodded to them but didn’t slow my pace.  Griff nodded back.

Scrubby didn’t want to let me go so easily.  “Hey,” he called.  I stopped and turned towards him.  “What?  You’re too good to have a drink with us now.”

An awkward puff of air came out of my mouth, half laugh, half sigh.  “Nah.  I just have a meeting with Mario is all.”

“Oh, a meeting with Mario.  Excuse me.”  He stepped up to the bar where a shot was waiting for him.  He tilted back his neck and threw the gold tequila down his gullet.  Then he shook it off.