The Russos 4 Read online

  Published by Mojocastle Press, LLC

  Price, Utah

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  The Russos: Episode Four

  ISBN: 1-60180-032-0

  Copyright © 2007 D. J. Manly

  Cover Art Copyright @ 2007 April Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  Excluding legitimate review sites and review publications, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission from the publisher is illegal, punishable by law and will be prosecuted.

  Available online at:

  http://www.mojocastle.com/

  Also By D.J. Manly:

  Connor's Storm

  Melting Ice

  The Russos: Digital Soap

  Dedication:

  To my readers.

  The Russos:

  Episode Four

  D. J. Manly

  Previously on The Russos...

  Drake's lawyer, Francine gets a serious case of the hots for her client. Angelo and Tony meet for the first time, and seem to hit it off. Tony makes a confession to Janet about his sexuality. Tony has a wet dream. Johnny's condition gets worse before it gets better. Drake's visit to his brother has a profound effect on his condition.

  And Now...Episode Four of The Russos

  Angelo found his Dad at the hospital around seven that evening. He was drinking coffee and pacing the hallway.

  He embraced his father. "Hi, Dad, where in hell have you been?"

  "At home, why?" Drake asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "I left fifty messages, telling you I was helping Mac and Pepi out with the new C.D."

  Drake looked out the window at the hordes of fans dancing around in the parking lot. "What in the world are they doing out there anyway?" he muttered.

  "Playing your music, singing, chanting, praying for Uncle Johnny," Angelo replied, coming to stand beside his father.

  Drake looked at his son. Tall, handsome, he seemed so much like him, yet he wasn't like him at all, really.

  He wasn't tormented, and he hoped to God he stayed that way.

  "Mac and Uncle Pepi will be by later on. Are you planning on working this week, or...?" Angelo inquired.

  They really did need him at the studio, although Angelo didn't want to put any pressure on him right now. Uncle Pepi would probably be on his back soon enough.

  "Tomorrow, okay?" Drake drained the rest of his coffee.

  "You want to see your uncle?" Drake asked him.

  "Ya, then I'm going to get going," Angelo told him.

  "There's a drummer that Bernie wants me to meet. He thinks we could get something going."

  "Good," his father said. "You need to get a permanent bunch of guys together, get yourself a name and let people hear you. Your problem is you haven't found the right bunch of guys yet."

  Angelo rolled his eyes. "I know that, Dad, but it's not easy. You always knew who you were playing with; two brothers and your best friend. I have no brothers, and my friends either wouldn't know an A from a B flat or are like Bernie, and aren't into rock."

  "I can set you up with a good bass player if the drummer works out," Drake offered. "Let me know."

  "Another studio musician?" Angelo sighed. "Dad, the good ones are always busy."

  "Yes, but this guy, Gary...Gary...forget his last name...anyway, he wants out of studio stuff. He's ready to break out. He's looking for people. Anyway, won't hurt for you to check him out."

  "Okay, let me know when he's available," Angelo muttered. "God, it would be so much easier if you would just let me play with the fucking band."

  There was a silence, then Drake casually brought his cell phone out of the inside pocket of his black leather jacket. "Go ahead and see your uncle," he said stiffly, turning around. "I've got a few phone calls to make."

  He had been dismissed. There was to be no more discussion on the subject now. Angelo glared at his father's back before he walked away from him. He swore under his breath as he headed down the hallway.

  Damn him. If Uncle Johnny was well, he'd talk Dad into letting him join the band. Uncle Johnny would tell him how unreasonable he was being. Shouldn't parents want to save their children from having it as hard as they did?

  He was a self-centered son of a bitch, and if Uncle Johnny weren't so sick, he'd tell him so...all this talk about not being able to appreciate fame if he didn't earn it himself. What horse shit! He didn't understand why it gave his father so much satisfaction to think of him burning himself out playing for a bunch of drunken creeps in some dive somewhere. He was Drake Russo's son, but he might as well have been the son of a nobody for what that gave him.

  If he hadn't been good enough he would have accepted that as an excuse, but his father told him that he was a very accomplished guitarist. He even admitted that he was better than he was at his age and coming from Dad, that was nothing to scoff at. He was a very harsh music critic, and it didn't matter who was at the receiving end of the criticism. Poor Uncle Pepi waited years until Dad was satisfied with his keyboards before being allowed to join the band.

  * * * * * *

  Angelo was still fuming about it when he stepped inside his uncle's room. He walked over to the bed and took his hand. "Uncle Johnny, tell me one thing...why is my dad such a stubborn jackass all the time? I want to play with the band, Uncle Johnny, and I know you'd..."

  Angelo stopped for a minute. He could have sworn he felt his uncle's hand move under his. He held his breath, removed his hand and waited.

  He began to talk again, only slowly, carefully. "Uncle Johnny, can you hear me? Can you..." There, there it was. There was movement. Tears sprang to Angelo's eyes. Oh, God, he had moved. He was sure of it.

  He raced out of the room and stopped at the nurse's station. "Get the doctor," he said excitedly, "get the doctor now! My uncle...he just moved his hand!"

  The nurse didn't respond with as much enthusiasm as Angelo expected. She looked at him from behind her black-rimmed glasses and gave him a tolerant smile, one you would reserve for a pesky schoolboy. "I wouldn't worry about it. It probably was just an involuntary reflex. I will notify the doctor, and tomorrow..."

  "Tomorrow? No...I tell you..." Angelo began, trying to make her see that it was more than that. He attempted to explain it all again to her, until she became quite openly irritated with him.

  "All right, Mr. Smith," she snapped. "Come on, let us go see. I know you hope your uncle gets better...we all have his best interests at heart, but wishful thinking is one thing, an actual spontaneous recovery is quite another."

  Angelo followed her to his uncle's room. She walked briskly, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the terrazzo floor. She kept talking, scolding him. He didn't pay much attention.

  His father was in the room now standing beside Johnny's bed. He looked past the nurse and directly at his son. He seemed a little dazed, as if he'd seen a ghost.

  Then his face broke into the most heart-wrenching smile. "Angelo," he breathed, "he...he said my name. Johnny opened his eyes and said my name."

  The nurse placed a hand over her mouth and gasped. Then she sprang into action. "Don't do anything!" she instructed, then raced out of the room.

  * * * * * *

  An hour later, the waiting room was filled with people.

  Everyone was there; Janet and Tony, Pepi, Sophia, Mac and Frank. Drake paced the hallway, demanding to know how much longer it would be before the doctor came to te
ll them something.

  The nurse tried to assure him it wouldn't be much longer.

  Sophia watched Drake pace, and then went to join him. If Johnny recovered, God would have answered all her prayers. Over the last little while, she had worked everything out in her mind. She had asked God for help and she knew he expected her to be patient, to wait for a sign. He would guide her, let her know what she should do. In the last few weeks, he had given her two very clear signs. Now here, tonight, was the last of them.

  The first sign had been when Drake was released from jail. Then Drake had met that wonderful Francine, who she knew was the right one, and finally, Johnny was coming out of the coma. God had forgiven her. He wanted her to forgive herself. There was nothing to be served by ripping her family apart. Drake and Johnny were brothers in every way except for one, and it was that one unknown factor that kept them brothers.

  To expose that was to allow for a complete change in their relationship, a change that was unnatural and sinful and would only harm them in the long run. No, Francine would be good for Drake, and as for her Johnny...well, he had Tony now, and maybe there would be some nice girl out there for him as well later on down the line. She had to protect her boys. It was her job to make sure they remained a family...especially after she was gone.

  "Dear, it's going to be all right," she told Drake as she stood next to him in the hallway. "God has chosen to give me back my boys. He has given me the signs I needed. Everything is clear now. I spent a lot of time in that lovely church down the street from the hotel. Sometimes in life we think we do wrong, but there is less harm that way."

  He tilted his dark head and gazed at her as she continued on with what he often jokingly referred to as her 'sermons'.

  She looked very haggard suddenly and seemed a great deal older than she was. He realized as he tried to concentrate on what she was saying that he had absolutely no idea what she was going on about.

  Mama was always quite religious, attributing events in life to God's plan or God's will. She must have been disappointed in her sons, none of whom were really religious. Pepi and Johnny were both closet agnostics, and he had become disillusioned with God long ago.

  He once thought God was testing him with all this stuff but he finally decided that if it were a test, it was a cruel and unusual test, one he couldn't remember ever being wicked enough to deserve.

  "Why don't you sit down, Mama, rest," he interrupted her. She had lost him a while back.

  She was stubbornly protesting when Tony stood up suddenly, came over and took his grandmother's arm.

  He gave Drake a smile. "Come on, Grandmother," he coaxed, "come sit with your newfound grandson and tell me about when you were a girl in Italy. Aunt Janet says you tell good stories."

  "Does she now?" Sophia's eyes twinkled as she went to sit down again.

  They sat near Pepi, who had his face in his hands. He hadn't said a word or moved since he'd arrived. Tony leaned over and asked him if he were all right.

  He nodded, but didn't remove his hands.

  Mac looked over at Tony and shook his head. "He's okay, Tony. Don't worry. It's just the way he is."

  "Okay," Tony replied, again asking his grandmother to tell him a story about her youth. He forced himself to pay attention as she began telling him about where she grew up in a small village in Italy. As interesting as the story was, he was distracted, anxiously waiting to hear something about his father.

  His eyes strayed over to his uncle, who stood quietly now in the corner of the room. God, he was so handsome. He could hardly believe that Drake Russo was standing there in the same room. He remembered a sharp image from his dream suddenly and blushed, looking away.

  Angelo walked over to his dad. Drake put an arm around his son's neck, pressing his forehead against his.

  They remained like that for a few minutes and then Angelo went and sat beside his mother.

  Mac sat on the other side of Janet, quietly holding her hand. Angelo took her other hand and squeezed it.

  She kissed him on the cheek.

  Frank Carr was on his cellular phone most of the time. He had cancelled two engagements and was in the middle of a conference call when the doctor came sauntering down the hallway toward them. "Gotta go," Frank said, cutting off whomever he was speaking to and moving closer to Drake.

  Everyone stood up and gathered around the doctor.

  He looked at all of them, and then actually smiled.

  "Johnny Russo is awake."

  There were shouts, hollers of joy, jumping up and down. People hugged each other, cried openly. Tony gripped his aunt's arm tightly.

  Suddenly, Drake was calling for them to be quiet.

  The doctor began to speak again. They all strained to hear what he was saying. "There doesn't seem to be any signs of brain damage," he said, "although I must caution you, it is somewhat early to tell. He may have some trouble with his memory from time to time and then again, he might not. He's going to have some vision problems in his left eye, but later we may be able to correct some of the damage. He is very weak and right now, I think it would be a good idea if everyone just went on home. You can see him tomorrow."

  As people began moving toward each other again, hugging, expressing their feelings of joy and relief, the doctor placed his hand on Drake's arm for a minute.

  Drake turned to the doctor. "Yes?"

  "He's been asking for you, Mr. Russo. He seems quite anxious and insistent on seeing you right away so I promised him I would allow you to go in for a few minutes only, okay?"

  Drake nodded at the doctor. "Of course. I'll go in straight away." He looked around. Everyone was laughing and crying, still hugging each other.

  Janet and Angelo came and stood on either side of him now, kissing both sides of his face at the same time.

  He put his arms around them both and then Pepi came and hugged him, then Mac, then Frank.

  Frank was shouting, "We're back, guys! We're back!" He raised his hand and slapped palms with Drake and Pepi.

  Tony stood with his grandmother, who left his side now to hug both her sons and her other grandson. Tony had hugged everyone except for his uncle. After that dream last night, he felt odd about hugging him, although he really wanted to. When he saw Drake look over at him, he looked away.

  When the excitement died down, Drake asked if anyone needed a ride. When no one responded, he called out, "Hey, someone coming home with me tonight? I feel like celebrating. We should have a party."

  Frank piped in. "Great idea! My house. Everyone knows the way."

  There was some general agreement as people made decisions about who was going to hitch a ride with whom.

  Sophia went up to Frank and thanked him for the invitation, but she wouldn't be joining them. She was feeling a little tired, and would like to go back to the hotel.

  Frank told her it was perfectly all right, and then Drake told his mother that he would take her back to the hotel if she didn't mind waiting a few minutes.

  "I'll join you all later back at Frank's," he told no one in particular.

  When Tony noticed that Drake was leaving the waiting room, he asked his aunt where he was going.

  "Your dad wanted to see him," Janet told him, suddenly realizing that Tony might be hurt that Johnny asked to see Drake, not him but he didn't seem to be.

  "Look," she continued, feeling a little funny about it, "why don't you wait here and go to the party with Drake? You'd have some time with him, and you could keep your grandmother company while Drake is in with your dad."

  "Shouldn't we tell him first that I'm going with him?" Tony felt a knot in his stomach suddenly.

  "Why?" Janet laughed. "He'll be happy to drive you. You are his brother's son. Look, I'll see you later at Frank's, okay?" She pecked him on the cheek and left.

  Tony nodded, then took a chair next to his grandmother. He noticed that people had cleared out quickly; there was dead silence now in the waiting room. He looked at his grandmother and was about to s
ay something about how fast people had left when he realized that her eyes had closed. Startled for a minute, he thought she might be dead, but her chest was rising and falling steadily. She had dozed off.

  Bored, Tony stood up and walked down the corridor toward his father's room. He'd wait outside. He wanted to tell Drake right away that he was still here. He felt quite awkward about it, wishing that Aunt Janet had told Drake before she left. Also, he wanted to be close to his dad. Maybe he could just poke his head in, say hello. No. He had to be patient. He'd wait until tomorrow. He understood that he was really still a stranger to his father. It was natural that he would want to see his big brother. He wasn't hurt by that.

  As he neared the room, he noticed the door stood open partway. He didn't want Drake to think he was spying on him, so he stayed back. He could hear them talking, their voices drifting out into the hallway.

  His first instinct was to go back to the waiting room.

  It wasn't right to eavesdrop on their conversation, but still he strained his ears to hear. He suddenly realized that he was hearing his father's voice in person for the first time.

  "I...I needed to see you," Johnny said. His voice sounded very weak and strained.

  "Try not to talk too much, okay?" Drake was saying.

  "You've been through a lot. God, I thought I'd lost you." Drake's deep voice cracked a little.

  "Don't," Johnny said, "God, I couldn't stand it if...if you cried. I...I need you to know...oh, Drake...I don't blame you for this. It wasn't...it's not your fault....none of it is..." Johnny was crying.

  "Stop," Drake demanded. "Just get well. I need you. We all need you."