roses made of lead | Vito Scaletta

Chapter 6 - Isabella

My alarm went off at seven. So I obediently got up and went to the living room. But no one was there. Just a folded blanket. In the kitchen there were dishes washed, a pack of cigarettes, and in the fridge was wine and pizza from yesterday. It was like a cleaning crew had broken in overnight.

There was a paper towel on the counter.

"I couldn't find a paper, so I wrote it here for you. I want to thank you for a nice evening. If you're ever thinking about getting a job, you know where to find me. Here's a phone number for Joe. Have a nice day. Vito."

I took the paper towel and hid it in the nightstand by my bed. He had a nice evening? Does he mean my cursing at him?

"Come on, Cookie, let's get you something to eat," I called to the cat and spooned the other half of the canned food into her bowl.

"Go on, eat... how did you like your visit? Was he good to you?" I stroked her back. I don't think I'll ever know the answer.

I went to change, put on my classic taxi driver outfit. Coat, sweater and pants. Probably not exactly feminine, but I couldn't think of anything better in the fall.

"See you around, Isabella will be here this afternoon," I waved to the cat and walked out the door again.

Isabella is a girl I met at school in Empire Bay. They put me in an Italian family and I went to a school where half of them were Italian. So it wasn't that hard to make friends. But when I moved out and lived on my own, I found I didn't want to make friends. I have a couple of friends I made along the way and a friend who cooks in a restaurant and sometimes brings me something to eat. Isabella, however, is probably the closest to me.

But she's already married, she has a kid running around at home, she doesn't work and her husband supports her financially. She also comes from a slightly different background. She had both parents and her dad worked in a bank. So she was secure from a young age and didn't have to worry about anything. But despite these differences, we found a way to get along. Although, lately, we've been drifting apart.

...

The clock said 4:30 p.m. and I was done with work. The thought of big money kept running through my head. Like Vito talked about. But is there any point in a woman in this business? I mean, I could do accounting, I remember Paulie had an accountant.

I was also put off by the fact that it's illegal. But when I think of it, who does anything legal in this town? Just me, I guess.

I came home and put the money I made in a box. All my savings are just sitting in this box.

I set some desserts on the kitchen table. I didn't have to worry about cleaning, Vito left the place tidier than when he came.

The doorbell rang and I went to answer it.

"Hello," I smiled and hugged Isabella.

"How are you? Come in," I opened the door more and let her in.

"Great, how are you?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I prepared us some desserts," I led her inside.

"Wow, I've had a really long day," she sighed and sat down. I shut the cat in the hallway and opened my window. I'm gonna light one up for this conversation...

"Yeah? What did you do?"

"Well, first I had to drop kid off at school, then I went to pick up my husband's suit from the cleaners, and I had such a mess waiting for me at home that I cleaned it up by lunchtime," she complained.

"Yeah? I understand, that must have been terrible," I said sympathetically, even though I didn't mean it. This is a tough day for her. Well, if I told her about yesterday...

"What about you? Still driving a cab?"

"Yeah, well, still driving a cab."

"You should find yourself a man so you don't work your ass off. And sex would be good for you too, my skin's getting better and..."

After yesterday, I think I'm starting to get a little angry. Because I felt like shooting someone again.

"Something's shaping up," I muttered. Just shut up.

"Yeah?! Really?! Tell me about him!"

Now, how to put it.

"Yeah, he's nice, he makes good money and sex with him is great," I exhaled. I wouldn't say either of those things about Vito, yet.

"That's great! That's all you could ask for. And can you introduce him to me? When did this happen?"

"Sometime, but I want to keep it a secret for now," I said, looking out the window. "Can we talk about something else?"

So I spent the afternoon with Isabella, who has nothing interesting going on, but talks a lot. I listen to her every visit talk about what new her kid can do, where she and her hubby are going and how hard life is. But the best part is her advice on what she would do differently with my life.

...

I went to bed, and this time I let the cat in. I was sad. At least yesterday I felt like I wasn't alone. Even though I think of Vito as a total asshole, he wasn't the worst company.

I don't want to let him near my body. I don't want to tell him anything about my past because I'm worried he's involved. I don't even know how old he is. I don't know anything about him. Just that he's from Sicily, his name is Vito, and it's not the first time he's held a gun.

And he likes pizza. And probably wine. And he smokes really good cigarettes.

I decided to chase away the loneliness of today with wine. With what he left me. And the more my alcohol level rose, the more I thought about going to see him tomorrow.