I just didn’tthink you were one of those Gallos. So I take it the Marcellos are your mother’s side?”
I nodded.
“Here I am thinking a bootlegger is scandalous. So what was growing up like for you, Teddi? That had to have been hard at times.”
“No. It was more like interesting.”
“Come on…tell me.”
“Well…imagine instead of taking you to the zoo, your father took you to the track. Instead of reading Dr. Seuss to you, your dad taught you how to read a racing form. And that you spent family vacations in upstate New York, the better to visit the federal penitentiary when your uncles got put away.”
“I can’t imagine…. I mean, did you know your family was in the mob?”
“No. I thought it was normal. I didn’t know there was a word for it—the mob. The Mafia. I didn’t know until junior high, really, when a girl I considered my best friend told me her father wouldn’t let her come over anymore.”
“Junior high. God, my junior high years were a living hell. Come to think of it, I hated high school, too.”
“Exactly. I had braces, no friends and an older brother who tortured me by taking the heads off all my Barbies and reading my diary to his friends. When the one friend I did have dumped me, I was devastated. I went to the library and started researching my own family. I mean, the Internet was around, but not to the degree it is now. So I sat there with the old microfiche and found the headlines. Dozens and dozens of them. Men I loved, my adored and favorite uncles.” I shook my head. “I wondered if all the laughter and togetherness had all been a lie.”
“Had it been?”
“No. It was just that, at age twelve, I had the ultimate introduction into the world of gray.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The world isn’t black and white,” I pontificated over the sake. “It’s all shades of gray…. I don’t expect you to understand. I mean, you’re a journalist, so I’m sure your world is about rooting out the black from the white, digging until it’s all clear and clean. But I learned a different lesson, and I learned it young.” I took another sip of my drink. “And I guess until this moment, I didn’t appreciate it. But there was some value to the lesson, even though at the time it was like finding out all at once that the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were all in league with Satan.”
“You mean they’re not?” He smirked.
Something about him made me feel at ease. His sense of humor, his listening skills. The fact that he hadn’t run screaming for the exit when I told him (later) the story about my uncle Vito sawing off the head of one of his enemies. It was all rumor, but I wondered, I told Robert. Uncle Vito seemed to seriously dig his hacksaw collection.
We talked until I looked at my watch and found, to my astonishment, that it was twelve-thirty in the morning. “I have got a hellish day tomorrow,” I said. “Friday is our busiest night. I really should be going.”
“Sorry, Teddi. I didn’t even think about it…I get to sleep in. I go to the studio late on Friday” He signaled our waiter, paid the bill, and we went outside and hailed a cab.
The cabbie was driving around on a pretty chilly October night with all the windows open and his heater going full blast. Maybe he liked fresh air. Robert and I huddled together in the back seat but didn’t tell the cabbie to rollthe windows up. Maybe we were both grateful for an excuse to cuddle.
“I’m not even going to invite you back to my place,” Robert whispered, his breath on my neck. “Much as I want to. I don’t want you to think I’m some typical guy. I want you to trust me. But I definitely want to see you again. Okay?”
“It’s a deal.” I looked at him. He leaned closer and kissed me on the lips. I shivered.
“When?”
“When do you want?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. This was a great night, Teddi.”
I instructed the cab driver to let me off two blocks from my
I nodded.
“Here I am thinking a bootlegger is scandalous. So what was growing up like for you, Teddi? That had to have been hard at times.”
“No. It was more like interesting.”
“Come on…tell me.”
“Well…imagine instead of taking you to the zoo, your father took you to the track. Instead of reading Dr. Seuss to you, your dad taught you how to read a racing form. And that you spent family vacations in upstate New York, the better to visit the federal penitentiary when your uncles got put away.”
“I can’t imagine…. I mean, did you know your family was in the mob?”
“No. I thought it was normal. I didn’t know there was a word for it—the mob. The Mafia. I didn’t know until junior high, really, when a girl I considered my best friend told me her father wouldn’t let her come over anymore.”
“Junior high. God, my junior high years were a living hell. Come to think of it, I hated high school, too.”
“Exactly. I had braces, no friends and an older brother who tortured me by taking the heads off all my Barbies and reading my diary to his friends. When the one friend I did have dumped me, I was devastated. I went to the library and started researching my own family. I mean, the Internet was around, but not to the degree it is now. So I sat there with the old microfiche and found the headlines. Dozens and dozens of them. Men I loved, my adored and favorite uncles.” I shook my head. “I wondered if all the laughter and togetherness had all been a lie.”
“Had it been?”
“No. It was just that, at age twelve, I had the ultimate introduction into the world of gray.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The world isn’t black and white,” I pontificated over the sake. “It’s all shades of gray…. I don’t expect you to understand. I mean, you’re a journalist, so I’m sure your world is about rooting out the black from the white, digging until it’s all clear and clean. But I learned a different lesson, and I learned it young.” I took another sip of my drink. “And I guess until this moment, I didn’t appreciate it. But there was some value to the lesson, even though at the time it was like finding out all at once that the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were all in league with Satan.”
“You mean they’re not?” He smirked.
Something about him made me feel at ease. His sense of humor, his listening skills. The fact that he hadn’t run screaming for the exit when I told him (later) the story about my uncle Vito sawing off the head of one of his enemies. It was all rumor, but I wondered, I told Robert. Uncle Vito seemed to seriously dig his hacksaw collection.
We talked until I looked at my watch and found, to my astonishment, that it was twelve-thirty in the morning. “I have got a hellish day tomorrow,” I said. “Friday is our busiest night. I really should be going.”
“Sorry, Teddi. I didn’t even think about it…I get to sleep in. I go to the studio late on Friday” He signaled our waiter, paid the bill, and we went outside and hailed a cab.
The cabbie was driving around on a pretty chilly October night with all the windows open and his heater going full blast. Maybe he liked fresh air. Robert and I huddled together in the back seat but didn’t tell the cabbie to rollthe windows up. Maybe we were both grateful for an excuse to cuddle.
“I’m not even going to invite you back to my place,” Robert whispered, his breath on my neck. “Much as I want to. I don’t want you to think I’m some typical guy. I want you to trust me. But I definitely want to see you again. Okay?”
“It’s a deal.” I looked at him. He leaned closer and kissed me on the lips. I shivered.
“When?”
“When do you want?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. This was a great night, Teddi.”
I instructed the cab driver to let me off two blocks from my
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