The Guardian - 10

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Sister I need you more now than I ever did
I've been thinking again, I've been thinking again



Part Ten - Sister
My continued apologies for the delay


Previously… the apartment of Louise Farnetti

Louise lay under the covers in Darla’s arms.

“How… How do I know,” she sobbed softly. Darla patted her mother’s face with a silk handkerchief she had retrieved from the dresser.

“What, Mommy?”

“If I’ve… did I make… Can I be forgiven?” Louise sobbed in Darla’s arms.

“Oh, Mom… you already are…. You already are,” Darla pleaded as she held Louise close. In just a few minutes, sobs had been replaced with soft, peaceful murmurs as they drifted into sleep.


6:27 AM…

Darla had already risen and was sitting in the rocker catty-corner to her mother’s bed. A hospital-bed that thankfully had fit in both the wide elevator and the front door of the apartment. Darla failed to apprehend any rest; the presence of the bed was a sad reminder of all the pain the family had endured, overcome, in fact. She sighed trying to focus in the “Today’s Reading,” but while she had never abandoned any faith, neither had she embraced it. The doorbell rang. Darla got up and walked to the door, opening it slightly without the chain lock.

“Yes?” She greeted the woman at the door with a quizzical half-smile, noting the nametag pinned to a brightly colored floral nurse’s smock. Tamika Washington, RN. She was tall and pleasant-looking, and about ages with her Aunt Jo. Her medium brown complexion was interrupted by a long thin scar on her left cheek but complemented by an immediate broadening of an already attractive smile.

“Ms. Farnetti? Good morning?” Her question seemed odd.

“I’m Darla Farnetti, yes?”

“I’m… here to help.”


Jo’s apartment, 6:43 AM…

Jo stirred from her peaceful rest. Things seemed out of sorts as she realized sleep had overtaken her on the couch instead of her bed. She rubbed her eyes, blinking in question as she noticed the recliner across from the couch was empty. She sat up quickly, a near-panic from her insecurity urging her to abandon rest. A folded piece of paper fell from her lap to the coffee table. She picked it up, opening it.


Good morning, Josephina! Have to run an errand. I’ll meet you and Darla at the diner at 9:30-ish. I think maybe we hold off telling her about Beseema. I hate to lay that on you when you’re already weighed down with everything, but the info isn’t out there and you’re all going through hell as it is. I wish I could take every bit of pain from you and your family.

Please take a hug and kiss out of petty cash and I’ll redeem them when I see you.

P.S. Moje srce!

Jo smiled at the endearment, her hand grasping the note tightly. She sighed at the idea of keeping Beseema’s death from Darla, but with Gina and the girls due tomorrow and all that would entail, it was best to keep it quiet, wasn’t it? And what about her and Alex?

“Moje srce?”

She was tempted to shake her head no at the sentiment, but she was strong enough at least to not venture down the decades old road of self-reproach. Maybe she and Alex were worth each other’s love? Well him for sure.

She walked into the kitchen to find the coffeemaker already set up to brew. She hit the switch and smiled. Other than a kind offer to share a cup of coffee when she was another person another time and place ago, no one had ever made her anything to get ready for the day. A simple gesture, hardly worth noting in most folk’s lives. But she wasn’t ‘most folks’, and she burst into near gleeful weeping over the love of one kind, generous and compassionate man.…


Meanwhile…

“The agency is going to increase our help to round-the-clock.” The kind-faced woman extended her hand. Darla smiled and shuddered in one moment. Her mother’s hospice care was already established, but the prospect of increased presence by the nurses left her feeling overwhelmed at the implications.

“We… I…,” She stammered.

“Ms. Farnetti? Someone contacted the agency. It’s been paid for with a guarantee for as long as we’re needed, which I hope will help ease things.” Ms. Bellacourt smiled warmly and took Darla by the arm.

“I was here a few days ago; you had work and your neighbor was helping care for your mother.” She paused and smiled once again as she led Darla to the couch. Sitting them both down, she took Darla’s hands in hers.

“You don’t remember me? I was at the field hospital when Aldo was brought in. I was the charge nurse then, and you gave us quite a scare. It’s where I met some of your friends. Alex and I have kept in touch after his sister passed, and I know all about you.” Darla winced and covered her face in needless shame.

“You don’t remember, but when you were so close to death’s door, you told me and the other nurses that… well it broke my heart to know you had lost your…,” Tamika sighed heavily’ her eyes welling up with tears as she remembered.

“Her name was?” Lt. Bellacourt leaned closer; anticipating the labored whisper.

“Amani. We… we were.” Aldo began to weep; a struggle that left the physical pain far behind.

“I am so sorry,” she smiled weakly and stood to go; the needs were equally divided between Aldo and other patients, and the other nurses certainly capable amidst the overwhelming pull of all their strength with such daunting losses and hopeful rescues. Aldo grabbed her arm; pulling her closer.

“I… if I… tell Alex to call Aunt Jo? Tell Aunt Jo that…that Darla is going to see her little sis…”

“You flat-lined and we nearly lost you, but you came back; sad and happy at the same time. You don’t remember since you were in and out of it for a few days before you rallied for good. But… to be sure, you and I already know each other, Darla.” The woman smiled again, evoking a shameful shrug from Darla.

“You may have been Aldo, but I know and Alex knows and your aunt knows that you’ve always been Darla.” The woman’s ever-present smile evoked a gasp, followed quickly by another appointment with healing tears as Darla fell into Tamika Bellacourt’s welcoming embrace.

“Your Aunt Jo and I go back to when I first was deployed and she was finishing… when Joseph was finishing his tour. It was when I got out and started working in Queens that I met Jo… or rather re-met her, you know? That woman is as close to an angel as I will ever know. You… you and your mother have always been in good hands, no matter what else we may do for you all. Please, child? Let it go?”

Tamika did not know that what she said was part of a grand plan set in motion further back than in the military hospital or even at the death of Darla’s sister, but even perhaps before any of them had taken their first breath. But that same plan was about to find fruition in ways none of them could have dreamed of. Nevertheless, the implementation of the moment included but was not limited to the weeping by the girl in her arms.

“It’s going to be alright, dear child?”


A short while later… elsewhere…

The room was dark with just a slit of yellow-white squeezing through the gap between the door and the floor, but enough light to leave the figure able to negotiate the darkness of the seedy hotel room. The stay had been planned before everything went ‘south,’ so to speak. No need to hurry; the day’s events were laid out exactly like a banal action picture. Things might be predictable but only to the person with the ‘script’ in mind. The other ‘players’ would be included in the drama, but their parts were entirely to be improvised.

“Whose Life in Peril Is This, Anyway?”

A quick walk over to the short dresser and the Sig-Sauer and ammo and then?

“It’s time.” Equally banal, but entirely appropriate as the person who started this drama was going to learn that predictable doesn’t necessarily mean inevitable


Meanwhile… Jo’s apartment…

Jo’s heard an odd sound and realized her cell was vibrating merrily on the kitchen counter and had lodged itself between the microwave and coffeemaker.

“Hello? Alex? Not tell? What? Wait?” She blew out a breath.

“Yes… we do… It’s not even public, so there’s no reason it can’t… What? Yes. My niece and her tribe are coming tomorrow. Maybe it’s… Yes, Alex. We… Oh. Well I’ll see you… what? “ She paused and pursed her lips, hoping that last night was as real as she remembered. One last word from him sent her over an emotional edge like a log flume at an amusement park. She held it together long enough to return the sentiment before clicking off.

“I love you, too.”


A little while later….

Louise sat up, as comfortable as possible in an impossible place, but with more hope than she could ever have recalled. Darla leaned back in the chair next to the bed until her head actually bonked against the open closet door, evoking a soft laugh. Levity? Even the darkest of moments can brighten with the commonplace.

“Excuse me, Louise? Perhaps a glass of Gatorade and another visitor?” Tamika smiled and stepped aside, revealing Jo.

“I’m early and here.… I just wanted to start my day.” Up to that point, Jo had held it together fairly well. It wasn’t that she didn’t already feel the impending grief, but that she had needed to maintain some measure of composure until ‘help arrived.’ She smiled at Darla and turned to face her sister.

“LouLou?” She stammered, practically exhaling slowly an endearment not shared in decades. Louise put her head down, ashamed of the gulf she had built between her and Jo. But Jo would have none of that.

“What’s my name, LouLou?” She sat on the bed and pulled a very old and beloved stuffed toy from her bag, a light brown baby kangaroo—a Joey—that hearkened back to better days they had years before.

“JoJo… you brought… her.” Ironic that name and gender fit both toy and sister. Louise began to weep, perhaps soft enough in deference to the disease that continued to invade her space, but maybe the moment finally called for soft and sentimental. Jo shook her head ‘no,’ not at the sentiment but at any guilt that remained behind the tears. The kindness that was so much a part of Jo Bianchi brushed away her sister’s shame, replaced by the return of love only two sisters can share, even if only one of them was allowed to be a girl when they were kids.

She fell into Louise and wept tears of gratitude mixed only a little bit with sadness. There would be all too much time for sadness later, but this moment was designed for joy for all of the women of the family, even if that joy would be somewhat circuitous and span the next several days. Darla put her hand on Jo’s back while gently rubbing her mother’s hand.

“I… I love you.” No pleading. There wasn’t a miracle sitting outside Louise Farnetti’s door other than the next few days to be savored. Days destined to renew and reward.


Astoria Coffee, a bit after half past nine…

Alex sat at a larger table toward the front. He hadn’t meant to take up so much space, but three folks talking about urgency designed to tip-toe around one death to face another required room. He was drinking his second cup of coffee when a familiar voice interrupted his quiet.

“Hey, Al.” He looked up to find Officer Lisa Kovic standing by the table. Her civvies might have evoked silence over the word of her transfer, but she continued.

"I noticed you sitting… I wanted to say… well, I decided… My therapist reminded me that moving someplace else after the break-up… You and Dee and the crew are stuck with me.” She blushed in more than just embarrassment at the failure she believed everyone else thought she was. A cosmic convergence of sorts was about to take place, and she happened to be in the exactly right place at the maniacally right time.

A few minutes of awkward banter ensued, Lisa still standing with Alex struggling with what to say to ease Lisa’s embarrassment. A brief reprieve came as Darla and Jo entered the café. They walked up and smiled.

“Jeez, Al. I didn’t know you were meeting someone… friends… oh, damn,” Lisa said while backing against a chair from an adjacent table. Jo reached out and grabbed Lisa’s hands.

“Nonsense. Please?” She used her arm in a broad invitation while her eyes questioned why Alex hadn’t thought of it.

“Jo… Jo Bianchi… Lisa, right? We met last Christmas at Alex’s?” Lisa nodded nervously even as Darla pulled a chair out for her. In a few moments a waitress had arrived with three glasses of water and Alex’s third cup of coffee.

“I… was just telling Alex?” Lisa took a long swig of water and continued, trying not to look anyone.

“I’m staying put.… My therapist… not to make big changes?” Her expression and her tone sought approval that no one could bestow since she owed no one any explanation. Nevertheless, she shook her head. Jo touched her hand, evoking a wince.

“We’ve all been there, hon. It’s okay.” It was okay, but it went further than that. She lifted her head slightly.

“I’ve got to get going… pulling evenings this week.” She stood up and Darla rose reflexively. Time enough to talk about family, but perhaps Lisa’s departure was for the better as Darla found her face growing hot.

“Why don’t we make a date for coffee… just us girls?” Jo said.

“Maybe? I don’t know? Sure…,” Lisa had barely gotten the words out when the window behind Alex shattered. Darla dropped to the floor, dragging Lisa with her. Jo found herself out of breath as she realized Alex had covered her with his body. Another loud noise followed, the sound of loud slapping against the far wall. Their waitress fell to the floor; her arm bloodied in a fortunate graze. Lisa stood up slightly and cautiously, her back-up drawn with her shield in the other hand.

“Police! Stay down!” As she turned the microseconds of silence were broken by the sound of a patrol car siren approaching and the very loud sound of screeching brakes. A slight figure jumped out of a Navy Blue Explorer, beckoning Alex from the front door of the cafe. Lisa squinted and against her better judgment, she urged him and Darla and Jo with,

“Go!” Hesitation was followed with,

“Get the fuck outta here! Go!” The three ran to the SUV and quickly got inside. As the Explorer pulled away another SUV sped off in the opposite direction. Jo sat in the back with Darla with the driver pushing a pistol into Alex’s hands. He tilted his head in confusion as the driver looked up into the rear view mirror.

“There’s a Sig and a Glock in the bag between you.” The voice was only vaguely familiar, like hearing a Brit actress do an American part. Nevertheless three sets of eyes widened. Jo was relieved since the woman behind the wheel appeared to be safe. Darla’s eyes widened is surprise, followed quickly by confusion and conflict. And Alex was simply and almost barely surprised as the woman pulled off her New York Yankees baseball cap to reveal long dark hair and the lovely but confounding enigmatic visage of Beseema Farouck.…

Life can be tricky,
And sneak up on you
Like a tiger looking for pray
We’ve had our share of surprises,
There must be a good one coming our way
’Cause we're really all looking,
We’re really all lost
The less we expect,
The smaller the costs

Next: Always Everywhere


Sister
Words and music by the performer
Sarah Bettens
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Y36xczxitg

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Comments

Wat???

A Sig and a Glock...??? It's kind of like buying one's dress at Neiman Marcus and the shoes at Payless. :D Now why would I know that??? :X The thing about Drea's tales is I must go back and read the last several chapters to catch up again. If only all things in life were that pleasurable!!!

Weird Stuff From a...

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrat

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JoJo The Joey

joannebarbarella's picture

Mixed together with Sigs and Glocks. Are you sure you haven't been cohabiting with Shiraz's Tammy?

Mother Farouk!

laika's picture

I sure didn't see that coming!
Loving all these twists and turns
and that they don't have to give Darla
the 'greatly exaggerated' news of Beseema's death.
After the sad depressing decline of Louise
(hospice care makes the inevitable seem so real
and immediate; although those hospice nurses are amazing,
at least the one who came to help us in my dad's final weeks was...)
this action movie violence was strangely welcome...
~hugs, Sis