The Runner -Part 4 of 6

While Angela and Tony were riding through the Forest Hills neighborhood, he teased her a bit about how expensive her tastes were. “The houses here are enormous. I don’t think I’d ever be able to give you what you want on a cop’s salary.”

“First, you’d have to know what I want,” she answered. “And, I guess you’d have to want to give me those things.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Maybe? That’s so sweet.” They both laughed.

When he pulled up in front of her apartment, Tony told her he had to go to his brother’s house to help him fix a faulty refrigerator. “Mostly, I hold his tools for him, but if it’s an electrical problem, I know something about that.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take,” he said. “But I do have a question I want to ask you before I go.”

“So, ask.”

“What do you want?”

“You. I want you.” 

“It’s only been six months. We still need to get to know each other better. Don’t you think so?”

“What do you want to know?”

Tony shrugged and turned the car off. “It’s not that simple, Angela. There are things you can only learn about another person over a period of time.”

“I love you Tony.”

“I love you too, Angela. I think we have something special, but we’re talking about the rest of our lives.”

“Well, Officer Rizzo, when you decide you have enough information about me, please let me know.” She jumped out of the car and walked quickly to her door, her long hair swinging back and forth. Tony sat there stunned. It took him a full ten minutes to start his car and drive away. He left when he finally realized she was not going to come back to the car. He was in over his head. That made him nervous, and suddenly out of sorts.

His older brother, Mike, noticed right away that Tony was out of sorts. He and his wife, Carolyn, had met Angela, of course, and they both liked her. “Hand me the socket wrench. You have a fight with Angela?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I just told her we had something good going, but we need more time to get to know each other. She jumped out of the car and ran.”

Mike picked up a flashlight. He’d pulled the refrigerator away from the wall and taken off the back panel. “See anything?”

Rizzo examined the wires and noticed that two of them were exposed, but not touching each other. He showed his brother. “Get a repairman,” he said.

Mike shook his head. “Carolyn thinks we should buy a new one.” He scratched his head. “You know, we got engaged after we dated six months. Got married three months later.”

“You think I’m being too cautious?’

“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You don’t want to do anything unless you’re one hundred percent certain, Tony. Don’t let her push you.”

“Well, I guess you were sure, then.”

“Nope. She got pregnant.” The brothers laughed.

On his way home, Rizzo checked his watch. It was just after nine o’clock. It was a bit late and he knew Mr. Oliveri wouldn’t like it, but he drove over to Angela’s anyway. He knew he had to see her. When he rang the bell, Mr. Oliveri came to the outer door. “What did you say to my daughter? She’s been crying since she came home.”

“I think it’s what I didn’t say. Can I talk to her?”

“I’ll have to see if she wants to talk to you, first.”

Tony waited fifteen minutes in the hall trying to figure out what he should say. Finally, Angela came into the hall, freshly made up, but he could see she’d been crying. “I’m sorry I left the way I did,” she said.

He took her in his arms and said, “I love you honey. Can we just take it a day at a time? I think we want the same thing.”

“I hope so.” She held him tighter.

“I’m sure of it.”

Over the next two weeks, Rizzo spent a lot of time trying to sort out his feelings He knew he wanted to get married some day and he believed Angela would make a wonderful wife and mother. He and Angela agreed to take things one day at a time, of course, but his feelings had been growing deeper recently. Waiting wasn’t making much sense to him.  

After his conversation with his brother, and after seeing Angela that same night, something came over him. He fought it at first, aware that giving up his freedom scared him. He had heard friends talk about their own fears of making a permanent commitment prior to taking what they all seemed to call, “the big step,” worried about what a commitment implied. One guy told him that when he went to the jewelry store to buy the engagement ring, his girlfriend at his side, the jeweler looked at his wide eyes and pale face and actually said, “Come on, my friend, we all have to go sometime.”

He woke up one morning and knew what he was going to do. That afternoon, he visited Mr. and Mrs. Oliveri while Angela was still at work. Marie Oliveri opened the door and led him to the living room, where Mr. Oliveri was working at a sewing machine he used when he worked at home.

“I came here to ask for Angela’s hand in marriage,” he said.

Oliveri turned off his machine and stood. “You don’t even bother to wait until my wife is sitting down? You just blurt out a question like that?”

“He’s nervous, Angelo. Can’t you see that?” Marie, who was still a petite, attractive woman, insisted they go to the kitchen. “Here, sit down, Tony. I’ll make us some coffee.” She filled the coffee pot with water. “Have you talked to Angela about this yet?”

“I haven’t actually asked her to marry me, but I will if I have your blessing.”

“Before you start making coffee, Marie, I got something to say about this,” Angelo said. He sat in the chair on the opposite side of the kitchen table. “I got nothing against you, Tony, even if you are a cop. But you and Angela have been dating, what, six months? It’s too soon.” He sat back and folded his arms.

“What are you talking about, Angelo? We were engaged after seven months,” Marie said.  She turned to Tony. “Don’t mind him. He don’t mean nothing by it, Tony. It’s not like you’re thinking of getting married right away, right?”

“No, not right away. Depending on what Angela wants to do, maybe a year from now.”

She started spooning the coffee into the coffee pot. “See, Angelo? That works.”

The older man was frowning. But he was also calculating how an engagement would further insulate his son should something go wrong. He, Angelo, could keep his income stream and, as long as his future son-in-law remained loyal, he would also be protected from prosecution for endangering the life of a minor, or maybe even being charged with gambling offenses. “You buy her a ring yet?”

“I did. You want to see it?”

“Oh, yes,” Marie said.

“Not so fast,” Angelo said. “Did you assume I would approve, or were you planning to ask her regardless of what I said?”

Tony pulled the box holding the ring out of his pocket. He placed on the table; lid still closed. He had always been respectful to Mr. Oliveri, but he was not intimidated. Now, his patience was exhausted. He sat back and folded his arms. “What are you going to say?” His tone was flat and his eyes were cold. It was impossible for Angelo Oliveri to miss the change in Tony’s demeanor.

“Put the coffee away, Marie. Get the Anisette.” He turned to Tony. “Welcome to the family.”

That night, Tony took Angela out to dinner, where he proposed. She was very excited. “Your parents have one condition. We have to wait a year to get married.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. We need time to plan things,” she said.

Young Jack Oliveri was doing a great job delivering groceries to customers and picking up betting slips and delivering them to Mr. Fortunato. He still used the gray sack to hide his bets, but his father, a tailor by trade, had sewed a hook inside his son’s trousers, so Jack could place the sack securely inside them.

It worked so well that one day, when summer was almost over, while he was making a grocery delivery and picking up betting slips, Sykes and Rizzo stopped him. It had been about two months since the last time they did it.

“Hi Jack,” Rizzo said. “Sorry but my partner insists we do a quick check.”

“No problem.” He handed his bags to Rizzo who let Sykes inspect the contents.

“Hey, some bread and cold cuts,” Sykes said. “Capicola!  You want a sandwich?” The men laughed and were on their way.

An hour later, having worked, by law, the maximum hours allowed, Jack was cleaning up in the back of the store. Fortunato walked over to him. “I know it’s quitting time, kid, but I need you to make one more delivery and a pickup.” Jack hadn’t given Fortunato the betting slips yet.

“You want the sack?” he asked.

“When you get back. Hurry up, I need to get the numbers in.” Fortunato had to tabulate the numbers for the next days action as soon as possible. He had a fairly simple system, one that allowed him to determine whether he could cover the bets if one or more of his customers won big. If not, there was a much larger bookmaking operation downtown that would usually cover his losses, if he had any; for which he paid a monthly fee regardless of what happened. He rarely got burned.

He knew that most of the men who played the horses placed bets based on meaningless hunches and superstitions. Guys who bet games, especially during football season, were even worse. For example, he had a guy who bet fifty to a hundred bucks a week on Columbia University, always a terrible football team, no matter who they were playing. Occasionally, the guy won of course, but not often; and because he also made other foolish bets, he was a prized customer.

Jack left the store carrying one large bag of groceries. He walked quickly down Abington Avenue to Fifth Street. Fortunato had stressed the need to be quick. When he reached the curb at Fifth Street, he started to run across the street. He never saw the car coming.