Excerpt:
Santino’s spine tingled when he realized another thing she had said had just been proven true. He watched as someone threw some money into his brother’s guitar case, requesting a song. Alessandro began to play “Nights in White Satin” by Moody Blues. Transfixed, Santino stood leaning against the door, crippled by the words. A vision of Marcello in his black suit, lying against white satin in the coffin nearly knocked his legs out from under him. Santino thought about the email on Marcello’s phone. Sadness washed over him, knowing the guilt his brother carried was comparable to the weight of the world.
The tragic irony of the song’s lyrics were felt by all three of them.
The words sliced Alessandro’s heart open as he paralleled each lyric to his dead brother. Shamo picked up on his distress, scratching his paws on his leg and nudging his master’s thigh in an effort to bring comfort. By the end of the song the tears were tracking down his pain-filled face and falling on to his guitar. He couldn’t lift his head. It was just too much. The guitar hung loose as Alessandro raised his hands to his face.
The crowd was bewildered and uncomfortable, slowly taking the hint and moving on. Witnessing someone down on their luck was one thing, but connecting with their sorrow was another.
Ava moved behind Santino when she saw his body heaving, trying to contain his emotions. She enveloped his back, offering support without embarrassing him. Squeezing him tight, she said, “I promise we’ll help him. I’ll make sure of it.” Then she whispered, a little panicked, “Keep your head down, he’s coming this way.”
Alessandro, unaware of their presence, guitar slung over his back, his knapsack in his hand, pushed past them, heading to the bathroom. Santino turned, following at a safe distance. He waited a minute, taking a deep breath before walking in, afraid he wasn’t prepared to come face-to-face with his brother just yet. Santino could hear Alessandro crying in a stall. He was mumbling an apology over and over. Santino heard him unzip the knapsack, rummaging through it. Ten seconds later, he cursed as a baggie of cocaine dropped to the floor.
Santino took a step back like Alessandro had dropped a grenade. He knew what that baggie was—his friends had indulged in front of him a few of times. Suddenly, it all made sense—the weight loss, his appearance. He needed to regroup and think before he could make contact with Alessandro. Feeling desperate, he flung the door open to find Ava.
Ava went to the puppy to make sure he didn’t run off. “Hi, Shamo. You’re a little cutie.” Although happy with the attention, the little guy was trying to free himself from the pole to follow his master. Petting his head, she cooed, “He’ll be right back. Don’t worry.” She turned her head when she heard Santino call her.
He walked quickly to her and bent down, grabbing her arm. “Come on.”
She was annoyed at being manhandled, but noticed Santino was white as a ghost. “What’s wrong? What did he say?”
Santino tightened his grip as he dragged her around the corner. “I didn’t talk to him. He was too busy snorting coke in the stall.” He noticed when she winced and let go of her arm. He ran his hand over his face, turning his frustration on Ava. “He’s fucking drinking and doing drugs. When I realized my hero is a goddamn alcoholic druggie, I froze, then hightailed it out of there. He isn’t just dealing with depression. It’s gone way past that, Ava. I don’t know what to say to him, or how to deal with the lowlife he’s become.”
Ava didn’t ever mince words, and she wasn’t going to start now. “You’re not the person to help him. I am.”
Santino was floored, to say the least. He moved his face down to hers. “You? You think you can help him? Are you crazy? The man you just saw is not the brother I know and love. I can’t trust him. He might hurt you. Ava, you’re a tiny little woman. Alessandro is six feet tall, and he needs someone who’s qualified to help. I just don’t think he’ll go to rehab.”
Ava knew he was beyond upset, but that wasn’t a reason to get in her face. She shoved him, squinting as she seethed out, “No, I’m not crazy! Calm the hell down. For your information, I am qualified. Remember me telling you I volunteered? Well, it was in a substance abuse program. Alessandro is going to need professional help, and I can give it to him. We should try to get him into rehabilitation. But, you can’t force a person to go into a rehab facility if they don’t want to go. If he won’t go, I have all the information and the know-how. Don’t be a fool. Besides, this isn’t just your call. Valentina and your brothers should weigh in on this decision.”
Santino leaned against the building, his head up and eyes closed as they filled with moisture. His mind was consumed with the ramifications of Mamma and his brothers finding out, and the thought of letting Ava help. Or the fear that she might not be able to help. The fear of nobody being able to help Alessandro. He slid down the wall, clasping his head in his hands. “Oh my God, what do I do?”
Her heart melted for the good man in front of her, who had dealt with so much over the last few years. After the massacre, his family should have been given a free pass for the rest of their lives. Instead of having to gear up their emotional resilience yet again. She knelt in front of him. Clasping his shoulders, she said in a confident tone, “I’ll help him. Trust me, Santino. If I can’t help him, I will get someone that can. The important thing is, we found him, so we have a chance. We won’t approach him tonight, because I don’t think that would be helpful for either one of you. The two of us will follow him home tonight, and we’ll confront him in the morning.”
Santino lifted his defeated face. “What do I tell Mamma? This is going to kill her. Fuck him for putting me in the position of having to break her heart again. How much more do you think she can take?”
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