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“Hey. Wake up.”
“Chrissy?” mumbled Saks. Her voice sounded raspy and low to his ears, but he was so tired he barely took notice.
“No, Mr. Hopeful. Wake up.”
Luke’s rough voice bounced off the walls of Saks’ room. He winced as Luke drew apart the heavy curtains he had over the window.
“Put that thing away,” he groaned.
“What thing?” said Luke.
“The sun. Put it away.”
“Sorry, buddy, but you have to get up. I let you sleep too long. Emily chewed me out about it on the phone.”
“Okay, okay,” mumbled Saks, lying on his back with his arm over his eyes. His head hurt less if he didn’t move. However, Luke wouldn’t let him get away with it.
Luke coughed loudly. “I can’t run a business like this. Oakie is coming over to watch you.”
“Oakie? No man. Not him.”
“He’s the only one available. Emily’s morning sickness is kicking up and Spider has a job.”
“I’ll be fine, really.”
“Nope. Can’t leave you alone.”
“Where are my brothers in my time of need?”
“They have jobs. Just like you.”
“I hope I have a job. My boss can be a real dick sometimes.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Well, I’ll tell Emily that you were talking if not walking when I left.”
“What? No breakfast?”
“Sorry, dude, you’re on your own for that.”
“Damn. I thought taking care of me was on you.”
“Me? No, I made sure you didn’t croak during the night. You want food in the morning, you need to work on your skills with women.”
“I’m pretty sure every woman on the planet immediately resents that you see them as the primary cook for breakfast.”
“Hey. I didn’t buy you bacon. That was your lady friend. Who you ran out of here.”
“I did not—”
Luke gave him a disparaging look. “You want someone to make you bacon in the morning, then you’d best learn that no matter who starts the argument, you were wrong and you need to apologize.”
Saks groaned. “That sounds really, really bad. Like no guy ever is in the right. Like they all have our dicks wrapped around their little finger.”
“Look at it this way. They have to deal with us. Have you looked at yourself in the morning? Smelled yourself?”
“I’d rather not.”
“And yet they would. See. Right there, instant grace.”
“Grace? You’re not getting religious on me, are you, Luke?”
“Dammit, Saks, don’t you get it? We speak the same language, walk on the same planet, but they navigate life a lot differently than us. We get up, take a shower, and go to work. Once a month we pay our bills. A few times a week we hang out with our buddies, watch a game, drink some beer, talk shit. And we think we’ve got it all covered.”
It sounded about right to Saks. Except, apparently, Luke wasn’t finished.
“Women? They wake up and immediately their lives are a hundred times more complicated. They take care of people, of things, or making sure everything is in place so people around them are happy. Honestly, when I think of everything Emily does, it blows me away. It makes me want to be a better husband and father. And here I am, babysitting your grown ass while my wife is at home with her head over the toilet.”
Saks sat up as a revelation hit him. “Shit. I get it now.”
“Good. Uh, what did you get?”
“She wasn’t angry with me. Chrissy got pissed because there was no way she could please everyone.”
“Well, that’s an insight.”
“I’m such an idiot.”
“Another brilliant insight.”
“Shut up. I mean, who thinks like that?”
“Women.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know that?”
“You’ve got a mother and a sister and you never noticed?”
“Give me a break. Until Emily came into your life, you were as clueless as I apparently am.”
“True,” said Luke, chuckling. “You’re right. I’m the last person to give advice on someone’s love life. I lucked out with Em and that’s a fact. Until then, I couldn’t make a real connection with a woman, and not from a lack of trying on their part. And I have no idea what you and this chick—”
“Chrissy. Her name’s Chrissy.”
“Yeah, Chrissy. I don’t know what you have going with her, but if you care enough to figure out what she’s feeling you’ve got something special there. And maybe it’s worth trying to keep.”
“Yeah,” groaned Saks.
“Okay, then. I’ve got to make it home then the shop before it opens. Oakie should be here soon.”
“Thanks, Luke.”
The door shut behind Luke and Saks was alone. He hated it. For the first time in his life he felt the emptiness of his apartment and his life. Bikes were cool, the club was great, but what existed for Saks, Anthony Parks, the man? Yeah, he wanted what Luke had, his own family, his own home. But he’d never found the woman he wanted that with until he met Chrissy.
How could he make things right between them?
He thumbed through his phone list until he came up with a certain cousin who owned a flower shop. Saks called the number despite how early it was. Don would be awake and in the shop. “Hey, Don, it’s Anthony.”
“Anthony Parks? Oh, yeah, Anthony.”
“I’m glad I’m nearest and dearest.”
“What do you want, punk?”
“Flowers. Specifically, a dozen roses. Delivered to West Haven.”
“West Haven? It’ll cost you.”
“Just remember who keeps that pile of junk you call a bike running.”
“Pile of junk? It’s a classic.”
“A classic piece of crap. Tell you what, my shop is selling bikes now. Used, but in great shape. You bring in that rice-burner of yours and I’ll set you up with a Harley at a good price. Women like Harleys.”
“Yeah, you hog riders attract women like honey. But what about this delivery?”
“A dozen red roses.”
“In a vase?”
“Sure.”
“With baby’s breath, delphinium, or bells of Ireland for accent flowers.”
“What?”
“Tell you what. I’ll make it nice for you.”
“Sounds good.”
“What do you want the card to say?”
Oh, shit. A card? “Write this. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet. Doff thy name, and for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.”
“Who the hell are you trying to impress, Anthony?”
“Be quiet and write the card.”
“Then repeat that. I can’t write that fast.”
Saks did, several times, until Don got it right.
“And who is this goddess you’re sending these to?”
“Chrissy. Chrissy Serafini.”
Don whistled. “Serafini? What the hell, Anthony?”
“Shut up. Just send the flowers.”
“Not until I get your credit card.”
Grumbling, Saks thumbed his card out of his wallet and read off the numbers. “What’s it going to be?”
“I won’t charge you delivery. Seventy-five.”
“Highway robbery.”
“You want the flowers or not? I promise you, all those fancy online places are going to charge you double and a delivery fee, too.”
“Sorry. Sure. Yeah. But don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Who’s to tell? I don’t want anyone to find out I’m delivering flowers to a Serafini.”
“Thanks. Later.”
Saks was about to lay his head back down on the pillow when a knock on the door called him to action. Thinking it was Oakie, he shuffled to the door.
“You’d better,” he said as he yanked it open. He expected to finish with “have brought coffee,” but stopped midsentence.
Instead, the lean figure of his cousin Luigi aka Louis Anglotti, a detective on the Westfield police force, stood with one hand against the door frame. His face crinkled in worry and Saks wondered why Louis was here. He rarely visited Saks. He needed to keep his association with the Rocco family off the radar of his bosses. “I’d better what?” said Louis.
“Sorry. I was expecting someone else.”
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Why are you here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Is this official business?”
“Yes,” he said too quickly. “No. Hell, I don’t know. I heard some things.”
Saks stepped aside. “Mi casa,” he said, gesturing for Louis to enter. “Take a seat.”
“Thanks.”
Louis took a seat on the couch. Saks leaned against the counter separating the living room from the kitchenette. He studied Louis. Louis and he hung out as boys, both on the fringes of the Rocco family. The Anglotti family wasn’t mixed up in Rocco business, being one of those Italian families that got upset when idiots said all Italians were part of the Mafia. Louis’ mother was Saks’ aunt, sister to his own mother, and was happy to put aside the Rocco family for the sake of her husband. That didn’t mean she completely got away from attending Rocco functions.
“So, what’s up?” asked Saks.
“Tell me what you know about the Roccos and the Serafinis. Is the rumor of a gang war true?”
