Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
BY THE TIME KITTY AND Richie arrived. The Beef sign was finally taken down. Officially indicating the ending and the beginning of it all. They had also finally calculated just how much money they would need to spend on the whole re-do of the restaurant, turning out that they most likely wouldn't even have enough even with how much money they had found in the cans of chopped tomatoes. And Sydney had also hired Sugar to be the project manager. Hoping that this would help them budget more clearly so they could not only re-do the kitchen but also buy the correct equipment this time. Equipment that wouldn't just break after one use.
Richie stood downstairs into the basement. He went down there as soon as he and Kitty arrived. Needing some time to take a breather. His eyes were glued to the photographs scattered across the table. Photos of the Berzatto family, the Faks, even some of his own family ones. His watery eyes staring at a particular photograph of Kitty, Mikey and himself. With Mikey standing in the middle of the pair, his arms throw over each of their shoulders as he grinned at the camera. Whilst Richie and Kitty were focused on each other. Practically glaring.
Footsteps coming down the stairs broke him out of his thought. He sniffled and muttered, "Fuck."
He glanced briefly, spotting Carmy coming down and standing at the bottom of the stairs, "Yo. Cousin, can you call Sal? I need a drywall estimate."
"Thirteen," Richie said. Refusing to meet his eyes.
"Thirteen what? For what?"
"That'll be his drywall estimate."
"Oh. Okay," Carmy nodded. Turning around and beginning to ascent the stairs.
"Yo, you ever think about purpose?" Richie's question caused Carmy to stop and turned back to face the older man.
Carmy patted the railing, "I love you, but I do not have time for this, all right?"
Richie nodded. A sad look in his eyes. He turned away from Carmy and back to the photographs. His eyes automatically drifting to one of Kitty and Sugar. The two woman looked much younger. If he had to guess he would have said they were in their early twenties when it was taken, when Kitty still had bangs across her forehead. They were grinning up at the camera, tightly wrapped in each other's arms.
Carmy didn't continue walking upstairs like he had planned to. Instead he watched Richie as he leaned his hand forward, grabbing the photo he was staring at and holding it in between his fingers. His thumb gently stroking over the top of it. Carmy let out a sigh and walked back down the stairs, "I have time for this," He announced. Coming to sit on a random box.
Richie looked up at him surprised and quickly placed the photograph down. Clearing his throat.
"Purpose," Carmy nodded, grabbing his packet of cigarettes from his pocket.
"What's my purpose, homie?" Richie asked, sniffling.
Carmy rubbed his eye then pointed at Richie's chest, "Your shirt says 'Original Berf'."
"It's a printing mistake," Richie shrugged, glancing down at the writing on the side of the shirt. Right over his heart, "Collector's item."
Carmy nodded. Twirling the unlit cigarette between his fingertips as he watched Richie carefully.
"You know, um, I'm tryin' really hard to be on board with all this new shit, cousin. I'm, uh... I'm reading a lot. I'm trying to learn about who I am to my history..."
Carmy listened carefully as he flicked his lighter. Lighting up his cigarette before placing it in between his lips.
"...So, in one of these books, there's this dude who's got...like, no skills, no personality, nothin'," Richie sighed. Taking in a shaky inhale, "All he does is watches trains."
"Watches trains do what?" Carmy asked.
"Watches 'em be trains," Richie shrugged, "And he's got this...Group of friends that he's had since he's a little kid..." As he spoke he kept his eyes locked on the pile of photographs, "...You know, and they're all the shit...and they're outgrowing him, like, one's like a sick athlete, one's a genius. This other one's nasty on the keys. Then, this other one, she's got, like, charisma like a motherfucker. And one day, out of the blue...Boom. They drop his ass. They just...cut that motherfucker off."
"Why would they do that?" Carmy's voice is barely above a whisper. Full of unspoken emotion as he looked up at Richie.
"'Cause he's got no purpose," Richie told him. Glancing up at him. His face full of sadness and fear as he spoke. Deep frown lines running across his forehead as he recounts the story he read.
"Okay, so-so what does he do?" Carmy asked.
"I dunno," Richie confessed, "I haven't read that far. But I do know that I'm...Thirty-seven. I've been here for a long time..." His bottom lip began to wobble as tears pricked at his eyes, "You feel me?" He glanced up at Carmy but the younger man wasn't looking at him, instead his eyes were cast down, filled with a deep sadness, "I mean, you know what the fuck you're doin', you know. You love all this shit..." He gestured around, "It's fun for you. I don't have that. I'm afraid one day, I'm gonna wake up and you guys are all just gonna cut...just drop this ass."
Carmy looked up. Blinking away tears as he shook his head, "Richie, I'm not gonna drop this ass...It's just not fun for me," He sniffled before inhaling his cigarette.
"Yeah, but you love it."
"That doesn't make it fun," Carmy explained.
"If this shit is not fun for you, cousin, what the fuck is fun for you?" He asked with a dry chuckle.
"I dunno," Carmy shrugged, sending him a small smile, "I have to get back to you on that," He said, pushing himself off the box and walking over to the table to use the dirty ashtray that was placed at the edge. As he squished the cigarette in it, his eyes drifted to the photographs on the table. His eyes drifting around all of them as pushed down emotions threaten to bubble out of him, especially when he spotted the photograph of him and Mikey.
Carmy quickly looked away from that one, over to the photograph closest to Richie. The one he had been holding in his hand. The one that had Kitty and Sugar in it. The two women grinning like Cheshire Cats.
"I dunno what's going on between you two..." Carmy spoke up, catching Richie's attention, watching as he furrowed his brows in confusion, "...You and Kitty. But I do know that she wouldn't drop your ass either."
Richie gulped. His eyes drifting at the photograph Carmy had noticed, "I dunno..." He sighed. He felt like someone had sat down on his chest as he thought about Kitty cutting him out of her life. Something he never expected to care about. After all, when she had left to New York the two barely ever spoke. But now. Now everything had changed. It all shifted between them. Now if he thought about not speaking to her, or never seeing her again it made him feel sick to his stomach.
Carmy reached over to grab a photograph that was peeking out from underneath some other ones. It was one of just Kitty. She was holding her cat that passed away right before she left to New York. Carmy pushed the photograph towards Richie, smiling softly to himself, "Trust me. She won't. As long as you don't push her away. Yeah?"
Richie gulped. His eyes refusing to leave the photograph of her. He reached forward to grab it. Holding it in his hands as gently as he physically could. As if it he was too scared to crease it. A small smile played on his lips as his thumb ran over her face in the photo. A feeling he hadn't felt in a very, very long time settling in his heart as he nodded at Carmy, "Yeah."
