Onore [short story]

Tony smiled bitterly. His brother Paulie and his ten-year-old daughter Laura were standing there, on the front porch, when, suddenly, the girl darted toward Tony. She just could not wait to greet him, her favorite uncle. To this Tony did not know how to react.

Paulie wiped the gloom off his face and set up a welcome smile. Tony gave him a quick glance, then tossed his jaw upwards into an old Italian saluto. Paulie understood.

"Laura, cara mia. Leave Uncle Tony alone! You’re bothering him. Go back inside! Come on, go back inside"

Tony dropped to one knee and started to caress Laura’s dark hair.

"No. No. It’s OK, P. How is la mia piccola principessa?"

"Hey, Tone! Come on! Laura, come to Daddy."

Paulie came rushing down on the porch steps and grabbed Laura with a powerful hug, getting lost in the embrace.

"Daddy! You’re hurting me!"

"Daddy’s so sorry. But you know Daddy loves you very much, no?"

"Uhuuuh. And I love daddy too" she smiled, the benevolent angel, willing to forgive and forget.

"Now, you be a good little girl and wait inside, OK? Your Uncle Tony and I will be back soon. Right, Tone?"

"Right, P."

They both said goodbye to Laura and then walked to the car, parked further up on the street, where their good friend Al was waiting for them. He got out of the passenger seat, greeted Paulie and then moved into the back seat, leaving the front seat for Tony’s brother. Before entering the car Paulie looked back at the house. Laura was already up at her bedroom window, cheering them on their ride. He waved to her, then he got in and turned to the two men.

"Come on, guys! Can’t you talk to him again? Al?"

"Sorry, Paulie. You know how it is..."

"What about you, Tone?"

Tony avoided his brother’s pleading eyes and instead he looked the other way, but right there in the middle of the street was Laura’s hopscotch, chalked in blue with yellow numbers. The drawing filled his chest with unbearable ache. Maybe he could still do something. Maybe if he sells his club and pays the underboss he could make up for Tony's screw up...And then maybe, just maybe...

But Paulie’s loud breathing jolted him back to reality. He knew all too well nothing could be done. The club is not even actually his, no matter how you cut it. Besides, this whole thing ain’t about the money, it’s about fucking onore. And what a curse that is.

"Look P., you love Laura, right?”

"More than anything, Tone. You know that," said Paulie with a glimmer of fading hope.

"And I love her too, P. And that's exactly why we can’t try anything. Al and I talked all about it. We can't get stupid.”

Head down in a prayerful posture, Paulie stretched his palms on the dashboard, taking long breaths to calm himself, blinking rapidly and tapping his fingers on the black plastic, trying to squeeze a way out. He nodded his head left and right a couple of times in revolt. But then he started nodding his head up and down. He gave in.

"Yeah, Tone. You’re right. I guess you’re right. Did you get to talk to Rose?"

"Yeah, P. Rose agreed. She's...She's OK with it. It's all fine. Laura will be taken good care of."

"And what about Laura? What will you tell her?"

Tony put the Cadillac into Drive. He pushed the gas pedal and the car pulled away slowly through the serene Jersey suburb.

"I got no idea, P. No idea."

Everyone drank in the silence as the car got to the end of the street. Right before the turn, still looking at the road Tony padded his brother on the shoulder.

"But, don’t you worry, right? I’ll think of something."

Read my other short stories: Onore| To the Stone Bull Bluff| The Shifting Path | The Spy | Picnic on the White Cliff

image credits: autoaddicts.net