Time Will Tell: Love Is the Answer

By John S. Dickson

Two women, circa 1930s Arizona, are faced with pregnancies and neither of them had husbands. Trials and tribulations forced them to live together and through a series of coincidences, they gave birth on the same day. Two boys who grew up as brothers, but clearly wasn't blood. One Italian and the other black, but you couldn't tell them they weren't twins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543932577

Book preview

Epilog

TIME WILL TELL

Prologue

LA Calif. 1970

After tossing and turning, realizing she couldn’t hold her bladder any longer, Mary awoke wondering about the time. Even though the apartment was quite large and her host slept in the room on the opposite end of the hall, she didn’t want to disturb him. Her son was a bachelor and spent many of his nights alone, by choice of course.

She quietly lay in bed, kicking herself for that last glass of wine at dinner. Gingerly, she prepared to get up to go the bathroom for the third time that night. Once her feet touched the lush carpet, its feel instantly reminded her she was on vacation at her son’s extravagant place.

This was the vacation she’d been waiting for, every since her boys moved to LA. With them living over 300 miles from her, it was hard to find time to visit. She was a busy woman in her own right. Mary Sanders was half owner of a swinging jazz club in Phoenix, Arizona.

Easy does it ole girl, she spoke to herself reaching for her robe, still feeling a little tipsy from the drinks at dinner.

It wasn’t necessary, but she felt a slight pressure to keep as quiet as she could while her son slept. It’s not that she wasn’t enjoying her stay, because she surely was. But, right before she came to visit she had started spending more time in the bathroom and hoped it wasn’t any sign of future health problems.

She surely didn’t want her son to get unnecessarily upset. She also didn’t need that third glass of wine, but it wasn’t often she could spend time with her boys. Especially, since they’d become productive businessmen and moved. It really overjoyed her to see them and perhaps she got a little carried away with the joyful atmosphere.

Mary thought he was asleep but on her way to the bathroom, it seemed like she overheard Joe out in the living room enjoying self compliments. She tiptoed down the hallway and listened to her son brag to the mirror about his looks.

Man, I’m getting older, but am I looking good? he kidded to his reflection, reaching for his pipe tobacco.

Joe was involved in his admiration and didn’t notice her, but she used to spy on him when he was a little kid and he was the same way back then-always so absorbed in what he was thinking, he never knew she was there watching him.

Ah, Vanilla Mint’s always had a special appeal to me, he boasted, taking a big whiff of his tobacco.

He smiled as he stood, lighting one of his over three hundred pipes. That’s the way Joe had been most of his life. If he gets involved in something, it’s usually going to cost him a lot of money and he’d absorb himself in it. Only those pipes didn’t go away like the rest of his passing hobbies did.

When he was coming up, if it wasn’t slot cars, it was something new for his bike. If not that, it was the latest style in clothes, then of course his car. It was always something or another that had him worrying his mother to death, as all teens do.

Joe continued to observe his nicely defined, svelte frame and while smiling his approval, he mused, Sometimes I’m like one of those teenagers. I’ll be damned if I don’t love each and every one of you crazy ole pipes.

Pausing a moment, he gazed at his expensive collection of Dunhills, fine Briars, Moscetels and other custom made pipes, chuckling and reflecting as he continued to speak to himself.

It’s hard even for me to believe, but during the course of the year I smoke each and every one of these babies, he admitted happily.

Stroking his Lionhead pipe between puffs, he noticed how beautifully made and finely balanced it was as he sat it down.

I don’t know what I’ve been doing to overlook you for so long, baby. I haven’t smoked my Lionhead since last January, almost eleven months ago. We won’t let that happen again will we, honey? I shouldn’t stay away from you so long, he joked to the pipe, as he picked it up and took another small puff.

Mary had to catch herself, she’d become so proud of he and Jess she found herself spying on him longer than she should have been, but couldn’t help spying a little longer.

Joe had cultivated his affinity for fine pipes and tobaccos over a period of long and expensive years, much to his enjoyment. People have told him that when he smoked they can see his pleasure through the slight smile he gets as he exhales. It’s almost part of his expression, so much so it’s become one of his official trademarks.

Regularly, Joe had full conversations with himself and it had become one of his ways of dealing with his business problems. He plays the devil’s advocate with himself in every business deal he makes. Rarely if ever, did Joe Sanders entrust his business decisions to be handled entirely by lawyers. He’s a self-made, wealthy, young black man. He’s not paranoid, but leaving final business decisions to anyone except he or his brother had become out of the question for him.

After this smoke, I’ll get up and start my day with a few miles on the ole exercycle and if I’m up to it afterwards, maybe a couple of laps in the pool, he surmised, as he stretched and patted his flat stomach.

Man, I look good. A fella’s gotta stay in shape if he wants to stay in contention, he expressed again, as he flexed his chest, shot a couple of jabs in the air and admired the chiseled form he saw reflecting from his gold trimmed mirror.

After getting a full view of his fresh appearance, he continued bragging, I’ve still got it, all right, he chuckled to himself.

Joe headed over to the exercise bike and had barely begun to ride when the phone rang and distracted him. By it being so early, a phone call at that hour was odd. But, Joe was young and thought it could be a girlfriend.

Hello? he answered.

Wait a minute Jess, slow down. What did you say? How did that happen?

He shifted positions, realizing his moment of peace and quiet had taken on a serious turn. The sober tone he had concerned Mary and she paid closer attention to the conversation. She didn’t know it, but the voice on the other end of the line was not in its usual controlled tone.

It was strained and he screamed, Man, don’t ask me any questions, just get here as quick as you can.

Before Joe could respond, Mary interrupted him, Did I hear the phone ringing this early? Is something wrong? she asked.

It’s Jess and yes, something’s wrong, moms. But, I can handle it, he stated, returning his attention to the line, I’ll be right there, man. Just slow down and be cool.

Slamming the phone down as he gathered himself, Joe thought about his brother, Jess Jr. It was one thing for sure; he loved Jess. As far back as either of them can remember they were as thick as thieves.

What’s wrong? Mary asked.

I think its poison or something, he didn’t really say clearly. I know it’s just not Jess to panic like that, Joe answered, rushing about.

Wait for me, I’m coming too, Mary ordered, rushing to her room.

Swiftly, Joe gathered his black cashmere overcoat, his black, kid skinned gloves and car keys. As he rushed pass Mary’s door she heard him curse to himself. When she heard him cuss it signaled to her that this was really bothering him.

Damn, I’m rushing-something I know not to do. I’d better slow down before I screw something up, he admonished to himself.

Looking around, mentally checking his ‘before you leave’ list, he smacked his forehead as he remembered his wallet. He took a deep breath to relax, before heading back his to room to get it. As he did, Mary overheard him wonder aloud.

How could I forget my damn wallet? A fellow learned long ago back home on the streets-to forget is to loose. Moms, can you hurry up? We gotta go, he yelled out to her.

Ok son, give me two or three minutes. And I hear you in there cussing, boy, Mary scolded.

Heading to his room, Joe walked through his lavishly decorated penthouse, observing but not really paying attention to his Royal blue, floor length curtains, matched with a thick, lighter blue, shag carpet. His bedrooms were on the opposite ends of his palace. The master bedroom was situated on the south end and the guest room was on the north.

This was the largest apartment Mary had ever been in. It had two bathrooms with all of the amenities one could desire. His sculptures and artwork, all designed by up and coming black artists, sat regal and undisturbed. The piece Mary liked most was a sculpture by a woman named, Naomi. It was simple, a woman breast-feeding her twins.

For some reason she bonded with that sculpture. She was visiting her son for the first time since he had moved to LA, but before visiting she hadn’t paid attention to artwork. After seeing that piece she decided she was getting one of that artist’s sculptures to take home with her. Never had she been in a place like his, which seemed like royalty lived there. It was a sight you had to see to get the essence of how beautifully coordinated it was.

As he eased through the hallway into his bedroom, the way he kept everything organized calmed him. Every little thing was in order, which is a testament to his neatness. There were no sculptures in his bedroom, but it was exquisite, also. Obviously, the same decorator was used for both rooms.

He walked over to his bed, reached under his enormous down pillow and pulled out an alligator skinned wallet. After he checked it, he reached into the nightstand drawer and took out some of the money that filled it. Meticulously but expeditiously, he patted his natural hairstyle and looked at his scar, giving himself a last once over. Deciding he was OK, he marched back out towards the living room.

I’m ready now, Mary said, almost running into him as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Ready, they decided to leave. It was at that moment she noticed how handsome her son was. He stood 5’9" tall, medium complexioned and was eye candy for the ladies. His face was all but perfect, except for the scar on his cheek he got at the age of seven when he fell out of the tree house. He kept his hair in a short Afro and his moustache neatly groomed.

Just like his dad, he was one of those individuals that prided himself in his loyalty, so rushing to Jess’s aid was all he could think of. Early on in their lives, they’d made a promise to always be there for each other. That promise was one, neither one of them intended to ever break and up until now neither had. Checking the time on his Swiss made watch, Joe noted that three more minutes had passed.

Shit! he mumbled quietly, as he escorted Mary through the front door.

Sorry momma, you know I respect you and never cuss in front of you, but we’ve got to hurry, he justified, as they rushed to the door.

They left the apartment and headed to his garage. It was an uncommonly cold morning for November in LA, under 50 degrees. So he wrapped his arm around his mother as they hurried to his parking stalls. Mary was from Phoenix and anything below 70 degrees, would be just about freezing to her.

He picked from his rather impressive choice of cars-a Jaguar, Corvette Stingray and a Rolls Royce. He had a taste for fast cars and an even faster lifestyle. Where he actually had gotten that from is a sort of a mystery.

Let’s take the Rolls Royce, he suggested instinctively, as he walked towards his Silver Shadow.

Unconsciously, he chose the Rolls because it has the most room in it. On the way to the car a thought must have come to his mind and he blurted it out. Joe is funny like that, he’s always thinking of something.

I wish they wouldn’t have changed the body style so much. My car looks a little boxy. That ‘64 Silver Cloud, like the one that the dude on Burke’s Law drives-now that’s the real Rolls. But, that was then and this is now. I’ve got to be in the groove and on the move, up to date. We’re in the ‘70’s now.

He opened the passenger’s door and allowed Mary to get in. Even in this chaos he tried to show her the utmost respect. He rushed around to the driver’s side, jumped into his all black Silver Shadow and sped to Jess’s aid.

Momma, I hope the freeway is relatively clear. In LA, it seems no matter what time it is, the freeway is always crowded.

He looked at the clock on his exquisite, chestnut grain dashboard and it shown 6am. He then picked up his newest, ‘rich person’s toy’-the car phone to call Jess’s number. Secretly, he admired the success he was experiencing. He was one of the few black people in the US that had a car phone. His Motorola Deluxe boast three channels, and set him back a couple of thousand dollars.

Mobile operator number 266, can I help you? the lady’s voice inquired.

Indeed you can operator. This is mobile number 213-238-2213. I need you to connect me to, 213-466-4563, Joe asked.

As the operator connected him, he wondered if he should let it ring, or ring in code. He let the phone ring the code-1 ½ rings and hang up. After dialing again, someone picked the receiver up and spoke.

Joe? Is that you? he asked.

Jess was normally a collected individual, but these weren’t normal circumstances. He pulled together what was left of his strength and screamed into the receiver.

Hurry up, man. Joe, I can feel it starting to work. My whole body is getting stiff.

Hold on, I’m getting on the freeway now, going ninety miles per hour and I’m not stopping for anything. Just hold on!

Mary reached and took the phone from Joe and started talking, Listen son, we’re on our way. Just understand it’s in God’s hands now. He’s watching over you, so just pray, Mary instructed as she handed the phone to Joe who hung up and looked at his speedometer.

Ninety one mph. Shiiiioot! he growled, as he corrected his curse word.

He and Jess had talked several times about moving closer to each other, but being as busy as they were had never gotten around to it.

Dang it, Joe slapped at the steering wheel as he spoke, it seems like it’s taking me forever to get there.

Mary interrupted him, Boy, you better watch your mouth.

Oh, excuse me, momma.

Finally, the exit was one mile away. As they neared the 248th St. exit, Mary said a little prayer for Jess.

Our Father, you have seen us through many a hairy situations, if it pleases you, see us thorough this, too, amen.

Joe exited off the freeway and started the four-mile distance to Jess’ house who, lived in a secluded neighborhood away from the inner city.

Joe called Jess Jr. again, Jess?

Man, why’d you bring momma with you? You know I don’t want her seeing me like this, Jess scolded.

…Joe, it’s really starting to work though, what should I do?

Jess was a highly decorated Marine and didn’t want Mary to see him so vulnerable. It was silly, because she use to change his diapers and couldn’t see him any more vulnerable than she have already seen him. But, you know young men, so vain.

Joe thought for a moment and said, How should I know what to do? I ain’t no doctor. Oh, oh, man I’m sorry, he had caught himself again.

He was usually always calm and respectful in front of his mother, but sometimes he was a little hotheaded in certain situations. Him not knowing what was wrong or how serious it was, sure irritated him. He was like his father in most ways, especially about being in control of a situation.

Stay as still as you can. I think that will keep it from spreading. I’m less than five minutes away. Just hold on! All right? he spoke, as he accelerated.

He careened his Rolls around one of the last two curves before he could see Jess’ house, driving almost to the point of recklessness.

Son, I know you don’t want anything to happen to him, but don’t you think you should slow down, now. Aren’t we on Jess’ block? Mary comforted.

The ride from Joe’s house had taken 8 minutes. He decided to take his mother’s advice and slowed down. As he pulled up into the driveway he was saying a little prayer of his own, Dear God, don’t let me be too late, he prayed.

Jess was sharp and got where he was today by being that way. He was a highly skilled martial artist, Marine sniper and quite used to dealing under adverse conditions. Realizing he’d been poisoned he called for an emergency ambulance. Even so, not willing to take any chances with his life, he called Joe. He knew if Joe were home, he would race to his rescue.

Sure enough, Joe was pulling into Jess’s driveway and there was no ambulance in sight. They both had learned to try and think of the unexpected.

Man, I need to calm myself down. Take a deep breath, he reminded himself, running around to let Mary out.

They both rushed to the front door of Jess’ immaculate home. Joe had let his nerves get the best of him and was shaking, so Mary grabbed his hand to steady it.

Relax, son.

He did and used his key to let himself in.

Jess! Where are you? he yelled out.

Over here, near the bar, Jess answered, sounding weaker than before.

They both hurried over to the bar and were stopped in their tracks by what they saw. Jess was lying on the floor, gripping his stomach and for the fourth or fifth time in Joe’s life, he saw Jess helpless. Mary had never seen him helpless and rushed to his side to assist him, because Jess was like a son to her.

Jess my boy, what’s wrong with you? Mary panicked.

His face was pale and the usually robust Jess, looked near death.

Damn man, you look like hell, Joe stated softly, accepting how serious this was.

But we’re here now. We’re going to handle it. Just let me help you up, he spoke, with a quivering voice to his brother.

Jess was of Italian decent, tall and devilish looking, with delightfully cute cheeks, could barely describe him. He was quite handsome and lived on a cliff, lingering over San Pedro and parts of LA. Traveling the world had developed his taste and throughout his house were immaculately decorated rooms. He and Joe could have shared decorators.

His bar-made of marble and shaped as a lady bending to serve you-was far across the room. It was near a large, twelve-foot square picture window that looked out onto the ocean.

Joe leaned over him, Jess relax. I’m here now. Let’s get ready to go. Wait! Where’s the poison?

On the envelopes over there on the phone, I mean the stand. Over there, shit man, Jess answered, sounding somewhat weaker.

Jess, watch your mouth, son, Mary admonished.

I’m sorry, auntie, Jess apologized.

Joe hustled over to the phone and picked up the two envelopes with the tips of his gloves. He wasn’t taking any chances, for all he knew the poison could work several ways. Looking for something to put them in and saw an empty bag.

That’s just going to have to do, he mumbled to himself, placing the envelopes in the bag and hustling back over to Jess.

Let’s go, he said.

They helped Jess to his feet and assisted him to the front door. Suddenly, there were sirens and emergency lights flashing all around. It was the ambulance with three police cars trailing it. The police followed the ambulance to a potential crime scene. Jess was new to the neighborhood and had complaints, because he’d entertained a somewhat noisy crowd on a couple of occasions.

The paramedics hurried to stabilize Jess before they lift him up into the ambulance and prepared for the long journey to the hospital.

Wait a minute, we’re coming with you, Joe demanded, as he pushed past the police to let Mary and himself in the ambulance.

Just a minute, sir, an officer ordered.

We will need your name and address, for our records, he continued.

My name is Joe Sanders and I live right here. Now get the hell out of my way, my damn brother’s been poisoned.

Mary was only a few months pregnant with him when his father was killed. After he found out the police killed his father, most times Joe wouldn’t show them much respect. He jumped into the back of the ambulance and prepared for the long ride to Mercy Hospital, clinging to his brother.

The paramedic put an IV in Jess’ arm and stated, Depending on the traffic, it shouldn’t take too long to get there. If we knew what kind of poison it was, it would help expedite matters quite a bit, the attendant said, noticing Joe’s concern.

We were called here to this house by Jess, the same as you were. There’s not much more we can tell you, Mary answered, being polite in Joe’s place.

I don’t know what the hell it is, but I have it right here, Joe said, reaching inside his coat pocket and pulling out the bag with the envelopes in it.

What’s this? the attendant asked.

That’s the poison. It’s on the part you lick to seal the envelope. That’s all I know about it, Joe said, flatly.

Jess started moaning and asked, Joe? Are you here? Don’t leave me, Joe.

Jess had been in the jungles of Vietnam for two years and never missed anyone. Now for some reason he was feeling alone. It’s hard to be tough sometimes, even if you are a Marine. Jess tried to focus to say something, but Joe cut in quickly.

Joe grabbed him and hugged him tightly as he said, Hey man, I won’t hear none of that mess. Have I ever left you or, let you down? Have me, or momma ever done that?

Jess, holding onto Joe’s arm, forced his response and spoke softly, Never man, from the very beginning, you were always on my side. Back when your mother first took me in…

His voice trailed off and he sort of nodded as Joe held him tightly. The unique bond they shared could not be overshadowed by the present situation. In the emergency, Mary smiled remembering well the beginning Jess was speaking of.

I remember and you sure did take to him… Mary started.

Even though Joe had matured into a fully-grown man, she still could keep him mesmerized with her stories of their clan. He was so upset about Jess she knew to intervene with one now.

You won’t remember some of what I’m getting ready to tell you, but our families go waaaay back. I remember when you were in my womb…

CHAPTER ONE

Phoenix, AZ. June 1940

Mary, how much longer do you have to go before the big day? Maria asked.

Shooooot, I still have about four weeks left. What about you? Mary answered.

Maria was a little hesitant but answered, I have about eleven more weeks to try and hide this big ole pot belly, making a mock disgusted look, as she spoke.

Well, don’t you think you should tell Roger soon? You know your hips are starting to spread and that belly of yours is poking out pretty far. You can’t hide it from him much longer girl, Mary told her as they walked towards their neighborhood.

Honey, I’m only speaking up because I truly care about you. We’ve been friends for a long time and God knows we don’t have many. Let’s see, it’s been going right on ten years now, ever since second grade, Mary reminded her.

I know and here it is, we’re eighteen, graduating from high school and we’re still good, close friends-besides my crazy daddy, Maria agreed.

They laughed and hugged as tight as two women, big with babies within them could.

Mary had secretly gotten married during the first semester of her senior year in high school and no one knew it, not even Maria. Even so, they remained the best of friends. She married Joe’s father, Joe Sanders Sr. They all attended the only high school in Phoenix, Arizona, Central High, class of ‘40. Last October, when they married it was in secret and on that night they made love for the first time.

She remembered her husband telling her, Tonight, for the two of us, there are no other people in the world, he whispered softly, caressing her as he spoke gently into her ear.

We have obstacles to over come-no money, no apartment, and worst of all, no blessings from your parents. But for two people in love, those are minor, little things, not even worth our concern or attention on such an important day.

He always knew what to say to her, which is one of the many reasons she married him. Joe Sanders had no relatives and lived in a small room that he was ashamed to have Mary live in. Although he tried to hide that fact from her, she knew. He had morals to a fault and wouldn’t think of sleeping with Mary before marriage.

Joe, this is our wedding night and we both know where you live. I understand it’s too small for us to share our life in, but if you think about it, it’s the same size of your average motel room. I think it’s OK for our wedding night, don’t you? she asked nervously.

Joe was such a proud man and was a little embarrassed about his living accommodations and Mary knew it would take her gentleness to change his mind. She carefully expressed her position to Joe’s living arrangements and slowly convinced him it would be perfect for their wedding night.

I love you Mrs. Sanders, he mouthed to her.

I love you too, Mr. Sanders, she did back to him.

He agreed, swept her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold. Once inside the small room, there was only one place to go. To tell the truth she wasn’t in a hurry for sex, but Mary wanted her man.

Joe, come on over here and stop worrying. It’s done and we’re home now. Come here, she motioned suggestively at the bed.

This was not only their wedding night, it was the first time with each other and there was a lot of pinned up anticipation.

Baby, be gentle with me, she whispered into his ear.

Joe started kissing her, took her dress off and lowered her onto the bed.

Mary, I haven’t told you how beautiful you looked today, but my Lord, you do look the most beautiful I’ve ever saw you. I’m gonna sho try my best to let you know I’ll always love you, he spoke softly.

Afterwards they rejoiced in the love they shared, because theirs was a marriage both of them thought had the makings to last forever. They were sure he would one day be discovered, making it to the big times. Because of his great singing talent, the whole community was very proud of him, especially Mary.

All of the church elders would always request they perform a duet at Sunday’s services and most times they sang, ‘Trust in the Lord’, ‘Praise His Name’, or their favorite of all, ‘Wade in the Water’.

Mary was a bashful, but talented pianist/composer and Joe, the exact opposite, quite outgoing. She was kind of tall, slender with a light completion and Joe thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. They complimented each other well and everyone thought they were sure to make it.

Mary stood about 5’9" in heels and wore all of the latest hair- styles, the Beehive mostly. She felt her best feature was her big, full lips. She didn’t have the hippest clothes, but that didn’t matter. And she never had a weight problem. Joe used to tell her that she didn’t realize just how beautiful she was. Mary was as insecure as they came until meeting Joe, in that way he was good for her.

Maria was all for Mary getting married after she found out and wished her friend the best of luck with lasting happiness. Maria felt she would be next in line to be married. She was a medium complexioned, traditional looking Italian girl, with long dark hair and had the most dreamy, brown eyes. To her, they were her best assets.

She had a way of closing her eyes-it seemed she closed her eyes and opened them, not merely a blink. It was almost like she was deliberate in the movement, as if she was purposely showing them off, but she wasn’t.

Your eyes are always the first thing I see, when I think of you, Jess, her man told her a thousand times.

She started going steady with him about a year ago. He was an aggressive construction worker, local high school dropout, gang leader and anything else he could get his hands in, type of guy. He left high school in his senior year to help support his mother and sisters. Coming from a broken home and without the proper father figure led him to a life of petty crime and short stints in juvenile hall and later the penitentiary. Although he wasn’t a real delinquent type, his desire to be in a leadership position with his friends kept him planning new heists.

Jess Santiero, now there was a handsome man. He stood 6’3", of pure Italian descent. He had long black hair, but not too long. Not long like the hippies that were starting to be seen around town. His eyes were piercing black, and they twitched whenever he was pissed off about something. His anger was one of the things he needed to get control of if he wanted to stay out of jail.

That’s where he would sharpen his leadership and crime skills. Each time he came out, he would have a dimmer and dimmer view of his life back in the city. Back then a boy became a man early, no matter how old he was. When the time presented itself, it was time. Having to be the man of his house at such a youthful age had negative effects on his thinking.

That is, until he met Maria.

She’s everything I dreamed of in a girl. She’s so polite, so respectful, so Italian, he’d brag to his friends.

She’s not anything like the other girls I know. It seems like she’s got the principles of the women from the old country. That’s the one thing I do remember of my father, before he left he would always complain about the women in America.

Jess never had a legitimate girlfriend, let alone one as beautiful and loving as Maria. All of the other girls in his neighborhood teased his uneducated ways, but not Maria. Jess was vain and knew he was a handsome and muscular young man. He’d had his way with all of the young girls around his community, despite all the jokes they’d make behind his back.

Things were quite different with Maria, though. Ordinarily, when a girl didn’t go all the way, Jess Santiero was gone. But with Maria, he felt there was something special. Partly because he knew she was a virgin, so in his view she would make the perfect Italian wife. Jess also knew he had to show his more gentlemanly qualities if he wanted to get anywhere with her, so he ‘accepted’ her being virgin and ultimately liked it.

He was a changed person in her presence and couldn’t understand why, but liked the way he’d act around her. He would abandon his unruly ways every time he was with her. He’d walk with her in the escort fashion and tried to cut down on his swearing around her. He actually fell hard for her. That was where his plan had taken on a course of its own. Even though he didn’t plan on it, falling for her made a lot of difference to Jess and he set out to change his life for her.

Instead of being an uneducated construction worker, I’m going to round up my partners and start our own crew, he said to himself one day.

With him being the one who always met any dare, it was almost a natural thing for him to be the leader. Jess always had ideas of being in the mafia. He knew he was bad enough and told that to his friends many times. He and his buddies had finally put the finishing touches on the plans for his biggest heist, Tortelli’s supermarket.

Tortelli was responsible for his father’s death and Jess hated him for it, even though he was Maria’s father. Jess vowed to rob Tortelli’s Market because the time had come for pay back. This was a personal vendetta he had to settle with Tortelli that had been simmering for the last six years.

You think we’re ready? We’ve hit a couple of the stores around town getting our timing down pat-which is getting a lot tighter? Kato queried.

Kind of, our timing needs to be perfect if we want to live afterwards. After this next job, our timing should be good enough to try my plan out, he said.

Tortelli’s? one of the boys asked.

Tortelli’s, Jess said, confirming the youngster’s thoughts.

Tortelli’s was the biggest market in the city. Mr. Tortelli was connected and laundered most of the mob’s money, so Jess knew Tortelli would have to answer to them about the money that he’d steal.

And believe me, they’ll fix his ass then, he’d told his cronies.

Jess had been to jail five times and received quite