The Russos 11 Read online

  "That coming from you?" Drake muttered.

  Johnny laughed.

  Drake walked over and placed an arm around him, leading him to the sofa. "You smell like a..." He began.

  Drake leaned down and placed his mouth on his.

  He kissed him long and hard, then released him.

  "You were saying?"

  "What's to say after that?" He smiled. "I've been a bad boy apparently, so what did I do to deserve that?"

  "I've always been a sucker for bad boys."

  "Being one yourself."

  Drake laughed faintly. "I'm not going anywhere. So forget it. I don't care how ridiculous you talk."

  "So I'm ridiculous, eh?"

  "Very." He sat down beside him and drew his head onto his shoulder. "I love you."

  Johnny snuggled closer. "I don't want to leave you, baby."

  "Then don't," Drake whispered fiercely.

  Tony walked out of the room, tears burning in his eyes. His throat ached with unshed tears. None of this was going to get better.

  * * * * * *

  Angelo continued to call regularly over the next month. Tony resisted the urge to pick up the phone.

  He was beginning to resent Angelo. While he was off living his life he was there, watching his father deteriorate every day, watching Drake suffer.

  His mother Sandy called a few times, wanting to know how Johnny was doing. Tony told her the minimum. "Ask Drake," he said, "he knows more."

  "I don't want to talk to that prick," she replied.

  "Well, if it's any consolation, he doesn't want to talk to you either, and you know what, Mom? Neither do I." Tony hung up.

  Pepi was there at the house all the time now, sometimes sleeping over. Mac and Janet were there also.

  When the doctor told them that Johnny's health had deteriorated to the point where they didn't think he had long to live, Drake defied his contract and took Johnny with him to Cuba in the private jet, a nurse in tow.

  Frank came to the house shortly after Drake and Johnny left, demanding to see Drake. Tony answered the door. He couldn't get a word in as Frank barrelled into the house, spouting off about 'respect' and 'loyalty.'

  Tony was surprised to see his uncle Pepi come rushing down the stairs. It was ten in the morning and Pepi had been practically living at the house since the doctor had told them the news. "What to fuck is going on here?"

  Tony was going to say something, but Pepi pushed by him and stared Frank down. "Who in the fuck do you think you are? Do you even know what's going on here? Do you care, or is it that my brothers are no more than cash cows to you? My brother is dying, Frank! Johnny is dying. And we're having all we can do to hold this family together. You talk of friendship and loyalty...where in fuck is yours?"

  There was silence. Frank looked stricken.

  "He's...Johnny is...dying?"

  Pepi nodded. "It could be anytime. And you can sue my brother, you can torture him on a goddamned rack if you want, but nothing could compare to the pain he is feeling right now. He won't leave Johnny's side. So do what you want. It won't matter when we bury my brother."

  There was nothing left to say. Frank turned and left the house.

  Tony turned to Pepi. "Uncle Pepi, are you all right?"

  "Are any of us all right?" Pepi blinked, tears streaming down his face.

  They were all feeling it that night, sitting around the pool. Janet, Mac and Pepi talked softly about nothing. Tony stayed quiet, listening, trying to draw some comfort from their voices. He felt as if his world was coming to an end. When the phone rang, he jumped, then offered to get it.

  When he heard Angelo's voice, he reacted with anger. Maybe he just needed to scream at someone.

  "Oh, it's you," he said coldly.

  "Tony? What's wrong?"

  "Wrong? Everything is fucking wrong, of course. You're what's wrong. Well, I'm here dealing with the shit, you're living the good old life, fucking everything that moves, I suppose. What's wrong? My father is dying, that's what's wrong."

  Suddenly Janet was there. She took the phone out of Tony's hand. "Angelo?" she said, glancing at Tony.

  "Everyone is upset here, that's all. How are you, sweetheart?"

  Tony moved away from the phone, his fists doubled up. He listened to her make small talk, then hang up.

  "It's not his fault," Janet said. "You didn't need to---"

  "You don't understand," Tony said. "You couldn't. I need him here with me, and he's not here. He's never here."

  Janet looked over at him. "Emotions are high now. Tony, Angelo feels it too. It's hard for him. He wants to be here. When we talked on the phone about your Dad last week, he cried. He's as heartbroken as you."

  Tony nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

  Janet nodded. She walked over and hugged him.

  "We need to come together now, forget all the pain and hurts of the past, think of Johnny and Drake."

  He hugged her. "I know. I just wish Angelo was here."

  "Me too," she said. "Me too."

  * * * * * *

  Drake sat in the chair with his face in his hands. He hadn't moved for hours. The sun was coming up now, but he wasn't ready. How could he ever be ready? "It's cold, baby, in the ground," he whispered, tears filling his eyes. "It's too cold."

  He stood up now, walked over to the bed. He looked down at him. "I don't want you to be cold," he whispered. "Will you be all right without me?" He touched his cheek, tasted the tears in his mouth.

  "Johnny," he whispered, "I love you so much. When you took that last breath, baby, I took it with you. I took that..." He couldn't go on. He choked, broke down, his head lowering to his chest. "Johnny, Johnny, oh God, I don't know how to live without you."

  He wasn't sure where the strength came from, but it allowed him to stand up and open the door of the hotel suite. He walked down the hallway to the front desk. When the desk clerk saw him, he took a step back. "Señor Russo?" he said.

  "I..." He took a breath. "My brother is dead," he said. "Please help me."

  When Tony saw his Uncle Pepi walk into the dining room, he could tell by the look on his face something had happened. Tony stood up. He put a hand to his mouth before Pepi could say anything.

  "Oh no," he moaned, "it's Dad, isn't it?"

  Pepi nodded. "I'm sorry, Tony."

  Tony went into his uncle's embrace and they stood together crying as the morning sun seeped in through the window.

  An hour later, the immediate family knew that Johnny was dead. Everyone gathered at the house.

  Janet had tried to reach Angelo several times, without success.

  "Haven't you spoken to Drake since this morning, Pepi?" Mac asked. He hadn't let go of Janet's hand since she'd come to sit beside him on the sofa.

  Pepi shook his head. "I tried his cell phone, but there isn't any answer."

  "He didn't say when they'd be bringing him back?"

  "He was...vague. I swear to God all he said to me was 'Pepi, everything is gone'."

  Janet stifled a sob.

  "I said, Drake, what's happened...and he said 'Johnny's cold'. I started crying and he said, 'don't cry, brother. I'm taking him home'."

  Mac lowered his head. Janet hugged onto him.

  Tony stood near the patio door, looking out. He could see his father sitting in that chair, those dark glasses on. He expected him to look after Drake. He would. He would look after Drake. "I promise, Dad," he whispered.

  * * * * * *

  It was dark when the plane landed at John F.

  Kennedy Airport. He stood there alone on the tarmac and watched them take out Johnny's body. There were people in some capacity, watching and recording. He didn't know what they were doing. He didn't care. It was drizzling rain. His long dark hair was plastered to his face. He didn't bother moving it aside.

  A man came over and said something to him about a funeral home. He rattled off the name of the one where their parents had been. He went through the motions. He said the right
things. Someone called him a taxi. When he got into the cab, the driver said, "Where you going tonight?"

  "Going?" He sat there, frozen, numb. "Where am I going? I don't know. I have nowhere to go."

  "Buddy? Are you all right?"

  He shook his head.

  "Hospital? You need a doctor?"

  He swallowed. "No. Just drive. Don't worry. I can pay."

  "Okay," the driver said. As they pulled out of the airport parking lot, he looked in the mirror. "You know, you look like kind of like that rock star...ah...are you...?"

  "No," he said. "I'm not. I'm not anyone."

  * * * * * *

  Pepi called the airport several times. No sign of Drake, or a coffin. It was after ten and there was still no sign of them. Suddenly Mac came over and placed a hand on Pepi's shoulder. "Did you say that Drake said he was taking Johnny home?"

  "Yeah."

  "He's in New York, Pepi."

  Pepi gasped. "Jesus. You're right. I'll call the company jet."

  Mac nodded. "I'll get ready."

  Tony looked at his uncle. "Why hasn't he called?"

  "I don't know."

  "What if something has happened to him?"

  "He's all right," Pepi said.

  Janet was on the phone again. "Damn it," she said, slamming it down. "Where in hell is Angelo?"

  "Just get ready," Tony said. "I'll keep trying him. Did you phone his cell phone?"

  "Yeah. No answer."

  "Maybe he's working."

  Janet nodded.

  Tony walked over to the phone and dialled. Two hours later, they were on the plane. Pepi had made reservations for all of them at a first class hotel. Janet and Mac had hired a babysitter to stay with their daughter. Tony tried Angelo's cell phone several times and just before they touched down in New York, he heard his voice.

  "Angelo," he said, "it's Tony. Where in hell have you been?"

  "What's wrong?"

  "It's Dad, he's...he's dead."

  There was silence.

  "Angelo, we're in New York. Drake took Dad home," he sobbed into the phone. "We haven't heard from your dad. Come to New York. We're at the Regency."

  "I'm leaving now."

  "Hurry."

  "I will," he said and hung up.

  "Mr. Russo," the undertaker said, "you don't have to sit here all day. We have all the details now. We'll take care of everything."

  "He's all alone in there," Drake said.

  The undertaker touched his shoulder. "You should get some sleep. You can come back anytime. The body will be ready for the service. We'll cremate the body immediately after the service, as you requested. Do you wish to be present during the cremation?"

  "Yes."

  He nodded. "Very well. Now go on and rest, Mr. Russo, and if there is anything else we can do, please let us know."

  "I'm not leaving him."

  "We do lock up at ten tonight. You can't stay here all night. I'm sorry."

  Drake said nothing.

  The undertaker walked away.

  "I won't leave you, Johnny," he said fiercely.

  "Don't worry, baby. They can't make me leave."

  * * * * * *

  "He's at the funeral home," Pepi told Mac, "the one where Mama was. The undertaker says he won't leave."

  Mac sighed. "I'll go."

  Pepi squeezed Mac's arm. "I'll go with you. Tony, stay here with Janet. We'll be right back."

  Tony was standing in front of the television, Janet beside him. They were looking at Drake standing in the rain. When the coffin came into view, it startled him. There was his father.

  "Did you hear what I...?" Pepi came into the room now. He froze, his gaze riveted to the television. "The press knows."

  "Yes," Tony said, tears on his face. "They know."

  "God, Drake looks so lonely standing there in the rain," Janet moaned. "He shouldn't have been alone."

  Pepi leaned over and switched off the television.

  "Leave it off. Tony, stay with Janet. Drake is at the funeral home, Mac and I are going to get him."

  Tony nodded. "Okay." He sat down on the sofa.

  Janet sat down beside him.

  * * * * * *

  Drake looked up when he heard the main door of the funeral parlour creak open. For a minute he thought it was Johnny coming down the hallway, but then he remembered. He never realised how much Pepi looked like his brother, even more so as he got older.

  Mac was beside him. "We're all together now," Drake said, standing up. "The Russo Brothers Band...all together."

  "Drake," Pepi said, "Drake." He started to cry.

  Mac placed his head on Pepi's shoulder.

  "Don't cry, Pepi," Drake said, "come here. Come to your big brother. Don't you remember when you were a kid and I'd make it all better?" He held out his arms.

  Pepi went into them, sobbing against Drake's chest.

  "I just can't do it this time, buddy. I can't make it better." Drake looked up at Mac with tear-filled eyes.

  "Hey, my friend," he whispered, "please help me here, because I'm not sure how I'm going to get through the next hour or even the next minute. Oh, Mac," he moaned, "God hates me."

  Mac grabbed Drake's arm and held onto it. He kissed his cheek hard. He had no words to say. All he could do was hold on tight.

  * * * * * *

  Tony ran to the door when he heard the knock.

  Angelo looked tired. It was obvious he hadn't slept.

  He put down his bag and enfolded Tony in his arms.

  He held him for the longest time. There were no words. Then he hugged his mother. She cried. He wiped her tears.

  They sat close together. Tony asked Angelo if he was hungry. The answer was negative. "Where is Dad?"

  "At the funeral home," Janet said. "Pepi and Mac went for him."

  "What happened?"

  "We don't know much," Tony said. "They went to Cuba on vacation. He died there in Cuba. Your Dad took him to New York."

  Angelo nodded.

  When the phone rang, Angelo answered it. "Uncle Pepi," he said. "Do you have Dad?"

  "We can't get him to leave the funeral parlor. He's determined to stay with Johnny. He can't stay here all night."

  "I'll be right there."

  "Okay. Maybe he'll listen to you."

  "What?" Tony asked him as he put down the phone.

  "Dad won't leave the funeral home. I'll go down and talk to him."

  "Do you want me to come?"

  "No. It's okay. I'll call you," he promised.

  * * * * * *

  As Angelo stood in front of the funeral home where both his grandparents had been, he paused. He never would have believed he'd be back here for his uncle.

  He was so young, too young to be lying in there. But who he was worried about right now was his father.

  He had watched them growing up, saw the pain, the need and then finally, the pure contentment of being as they were meant to be...together. Now Dad was alone. Angelo knew that he'd never love like that again. And worse, he'd lost his lover and his brother all at the same time. It wasn't fair.

  The first person he saw was Mac. He hugged him.

  Uncle Pepi's eyes were red and swollen as he walked towards him. They hugged as well, silently.

  "I give up," Pepi said.

  Angelo swallowed. "Where is he?"

  "Down the hall. Come on, Mac," Pepi said, "let's go out for some air."

  Mac nodded.

  Angelo took a breath and walked slowly down the hallway. His father sat there on a bench by himself, his long hair tangled and dishevelled, unshaven, a long blue trench coat thrown over wrinkled blue jeans. He sat down beside him.

  Drake glanced at him, then away.

  "You can't stay here."

  "I'm not leaving."

  "The police will come."

  "Let them come."

  Angelo sat back against the bench. "He loved you so much. He wouldn't want you to---"

  "Don't."

 
"Okay."

  "He's gone. That's all there is to say. Nothing else matters."

  "So you're going to camp out in a mortuary."

  "I can't leave him."

  "Dad, you've never left him. He was in your heart every minute of every day, and you were in his. You don't need to be here to be with him. You can be anywhere. That was your magic."

  Drake looked at him. "He's all alone."

  "No, he's not. He's surrounded with love, with memories, with you. Even in death, you're with him, Dad. You know that in your heart. Come." He stood up, held out his hand. "Come, Dad. I need you. Johnny's gone. Don't you leave me too."

  Slowly Drake stood. He took his hand, nodding. "I won't," he said. "I couldn't do that. I love you so much."

  "I love you," Angelo said, placing his forehead against his. "Now, let's go. We'll be back. Uncle Johnny will be fine until we come back."

  * * * * * *

  There was no service. Drake said that Johnny requested there be no tributes, hymns or sermons.

  The immediate family met for an hour in the parlour where Johnny's body was on display. They all said goodbye in their own way, and then Drake accompanied the funeral director to the crematorium.

  He did ask Tony if he wanted to come, and Tony said no.

  Tony's mother and stepfather made an appearance, along with his best friend, Sam. Frank came, but no one else from the music industry.

  At one time, Angelo disappeared and Tony went looking for him. He was standing outside, smoking.

  "Hi," he said.

  "Hey."

  "I didn't know you smoked."

  "I don't. I bummed it from my mother. She smokes at times like these."

  "Oh. Are you all right?"

  He nodded.

  "How was your dad last night? You stayed with him, didn't you?"

  "He didn't sleep. Tony, I'm worried about him. I feel as if I should stay with him but I can't. I have a month and a half left on my contract, and then I'm out for good."