After Vincent leaves, he thinks about what he’ll say to Paulie. But he’s not going to wait until tonight to call him. He goes home. The house is empty. His mother is at work. Vincent picks up the phone, sighs, and dials Paulie’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey, boy scout. So, what’s the plan? When are you coming home?”
“Nothing’s changed. Are you still going to give me shit?”
“No, I thought about it and it’s best that you do as you’re ordered,” Vincent says. “You may be the fucking enemy, but you’ll always be my brother. It’ll all work out. Just do your job, so you can earn your merit badges. As for the Neighborhood, we’re all big boys. We shave and everything. It’s our life and it’ll continue on with or without you digging into our business.”
“Okay, Cenzo,” Paulie replies. “I’m gonna call my mother now and tell her, and then I’ll call Papa.”
“Why don’t you let me tell them? I promise to do it as gently as possible, without lying to them.”
“Okay, Vin. You know, I never said this to anyone, but I’m feeling pretty conflicted.”
Vincent wants to say, Then don’t do it, but he holds back. Instead, he assures his friend. “Trust me, it will all work out. I will find a way. You just do your fucking job, G-Man.”
“I still have to find a place to live, Vin. Can I count on you to help me?”
“Paulie how could you even think that I would not? I will always be there for you. I already set up a tent for you in the fucking woods, so you will not feel left out. I’ll even build the campfire. I have a flame thrower.”
They both laugh but know things will change for them. There’s no denying that.
After he hangs up with Paulie, Vincent goes to his room, undresses, and lies down on his bed. He props a pillow up against the wall, sits back, and thinks about what he’ll tell Rina and Tony. He’ll do it tomorrow, come what may. For the first time in years, he thinks of the small picture his mother hung in his room when he was a little boy: A little girl stands under an umbrella in the pouring rain, and the caption underneath reads, “Come what may.” Every night when he went to sleep, he saw it, and every morning when he awakened, it was there to greet him—irrevocably ingrained and cherished…forever.
He glances up at the wall over his dresser, and there it is. “Come what may,” he whispers. And then, exhausted, Vincent Joseph Scalise falls into a deep sleep.