Broken Promises

Tatiana motioned for Roy to be brought back to the couch. She drained the rest of her glass in a single gulp.

"Let's make one thing clear. I won't give you the money, but I will help you out. By the time I am done, you will not owe anything to the mob. I do have one condition though and it is non-negotiable."

Roy gulped, already not liking where this was going.

"In exchange for my help, I want to be a part of my nephew and niece's lives going forward. It starts with me coming over for dinner tomorrow."

He looked at her and then at her outstretched hand and back again. He did not fear Frank Lombardini or any of his goons as much as he feared the cold blue eyes sitting next to him. Even if half of what his wife had told him or the news had to say about her was true, he should not be letting this woman in the same zip code as his kids.

Unfortunately, they both knew he did not have a choice. He was backed into a corner and the only way out sat in front of him, expecting a handshake.

He took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves before shaking the hand.

"Tomorrow at eight then," she said pleasantly. "For God's sake wash your face. You're dripping blood on the couch."

* *

"The kids are in bed. We finished James and the Giant Peach before bedtime. I'll start with Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator tomorrow. That should last for a few days at least."

The window in Roy's room was open. Faint sounds of traffic and distant voices merged into a low hum. The occasional car that passed in front of his house cast a bright beam of light which receded away. He watched, amused at his shadow growing larger as the car approached before dimming to nothingness.

"Donna aced the math test by the way. She was always the smart one... and the brave one. If someone pointed a gun in my direction when I was her age, I wouldn't have been able to leave my room for the next two weeks."

He smiled and turned to his side.

"I have something to admit."

He paused and took a few seconds to come with the words he needed. It was harder than other nights.

"I went to see your sister. I don't want you to think I took the easy way out. Believe me, I thought of every possible alternative, but there were none."

Roy looked guilty as he pursed his lips and looked to his side. Sofia continued to smile at him from the bedside table.

"I'm so sorry, hun, but it was the only way. If it was just about me, I would have never gone. Not in a million years. It was for the kids. Frank's men threatened them. I know if you were here, you would have agreed that the trip was necessary."

The framed picture sullenly refused to respond.

"I promised you. I held your hand while you lay on the hospital bed and with the last bit of your strength, you made me promise you that I would never bring Tatiana into mine or our children's lives. Just going to see her hurt more than you can imagine, but I had to. There is no choice when the safety of Joe and Donna are involved. I know you would have agreed with that if you were here."

Roy was struggling to keep a straight face. The bitterness of his bile coursed through his body. It was all he could do not to break down into tears right there.

"We were a team, Sofia. You left me all alone. I do my best, I swear, but I'm still learning. I found out last week that Joe actually hates softball and wants to take dance classes instead. He had only kept going because he thought I would love him more if he played. You could have seen it in a second."

There was a small patch of wetness on the pillow where Roy lay his head to the side. A solitary teardrop had broken his defences.

"She's coming over for dinner tomorrow. She wants to meet the kids. I honestly have no idea what she intends to do, but I'll protect Joe and Donna. I don't care what it costs me, but I will keep them safe."

All of it made no difference to Sofia who continued to look at him with that broad smile. She looked so peaceful in the picture, surrounded by the foliage of Tremont Park.

"Thanks for hearing me out. Good night, Sofia," said Roy, closing his eyes.

"Watch over me."

* *

The bell rang in the Saviano household at ten minutes to eight. It was ten minutes sooner than Roy had mentally prepared himself for. He walked towards the front door with his two children in tow.

He opened the door to reveal Tatiana and a burly man with a beard. She was dressed impeccably in a powder blue dress and her brown hair was neatly tied in a ponytail.

"Oh my God," she squealed as she got on her knees and engulfed both children in a hug. They were surprised, but latched onto a shoulder each as she took turns kissing them on the cheek.

"You're all grown up, Donna," she said, detaching herself from the hug. "The last time I saw you, you could barely walk on your own. You were this tall."

Her hand was just about three feet off the floor.

"And who is this handsome guy," she said, turning her blue eyes to Joe. "This is the first time I've seen you, and I already want to kiss you all over."

She made good on her statement and planted a trinity of kisses on either cheek and his forehead. She got up and took off her coat to hang it.

"I know neither of you know me yet, but I am your Aunt Tatiana. I've been away for a while, but I'm back now and I couldn't wait to meet you."

Joe smiled and wrapped his small hand around her fingers. Donna looked terrified. Tatiana and Roy were surprised by the look on her face. Tatiana followed her gaze to the door behind them where her bearded associate stood with his jacket open. His handgun was tucked into his pants, but the grey butt was clearly visible. He read the look on Tatiana's face and quickly covered his front with his jacket.

"Why don't you take the kids inside, Roy? I'll be right behind you."

Roy nodded and led the kids inside. Tatiana turned to her bodyguard with the faintest ripple of anger on her serene calm features.

"Let me make one thing clear. If you walk into the same room as my niece or nephew with any part of your gun exposed ever again, I will take your gun and shoot you with it myself. Are we clear?"

* *

"Bless us, oh Lord, for these bountiful gifts which we are about to receive through your grace."

"Amen."

"Amen," repeated Tatiana. She surveyed the different types of pasta laid out on the table. There were dishes of carbonara, ravioli and risotto. All of it looked delicious.

"Did you make these, Roy?"

He nodded and began serving portions to his children. She took a portion herself.

"Smells just like Saviano's. Do you kids know that when I was your age, I used to save up by doing chores for my neighbours and spend it on stuff at your father's restaurant. On our way back from the bus stop, your mother and I would always stop by Saviano's and see what we could afford from the display. Sometimes a cannoli, sometimes a chicken covered bruschetta. Your grandfather even let us buy something on credit if we didn't have enough money at the time."

"You lived here?" asked Joe.

"I used to, zvezda moya. A long time ago. Your mother and I lived around five blocks down the road and two streets to the right of Crotona Park. Have you seen that new mall there?"

"Uh huh."

"That's where our building used to be. We lived on the sixth floor. Everyday we had to walk all the way here to get on the school bus and all the way back when the bus dropped us off. We passed by this place literally everyday."

She took a mouthful of carbonara and felt the delicious mix of white sauce and meat melt in her mouth.

"Tell me about yourselves," she said sweetly. "I'm dying to know more. I've missed all those Aunt moments of you growing up."

"Well, Joe is-"

"I asked the kids, not you," she said to Roy. It was the just the hint of a snap, but enough for him to shut up.

"Why don't you tell me yourself?" she turned sweetly to Joe who was twirling his fork in spaghetti.

"I'm Joseph. After my grandfather. I'm eight years old and I want to be a teacher when I grow up."

"That's nice, sweetie, but I don't want the school career day version," she said. "I'm your Aunt. You can tell me anything you want. What you like to eat? Which girl you have a crush on at school? Your favourite Yankees player. Anything."

Joe blushed. Tatiana gently patted his brown mop of hair.

"What about you, Donna? Has anyone told you how much you look like your mother? Why don't you try to keep your hair loose like she did?"

Now it was Donna's turn to redden. Tatiana leaned over to pinch her cheek gently. The two children looked at each other, unsure of how to react. She looked at them expectantly.

"Tatiana, can you come to kitchen with me to help pick out the wine?"

"Of course," she said and followed Roy. They made their way to the wine cupboard and he took out two bottles of red for her approval.

"Word of advice. Don't rush it with the kids. This is just the first time they're meeting you and you already want to know stuff they tell no one else."

"What?" she said, clearly flabbergasted. "I'm their Aunt."

"You are. Right now you are the lady with the dangerous friend with a gun. Donna's still scared of them after the other night."

She sampled both the reds, not taking a liking to either.

"The next time I come, I'm bringing a bottle of Iordanov Vodka."

Roy took out another bottle from further inside the cupboard. A bottle of well-regarded Dartmouth red. She did not totally hate it.

"Aren't you going to pick another glass for yourself?" asked Tatiana.

"I shouldn't," he admitted, washing the solitary wine glass in his hand.

She looked at him curiously for a few moments before the penny dropped. He smiled weakly in her direction.

"How long have you been sober?"

"Just under a year," he responded. "The only reason I haven't gotten rid of the whole wine cupboard is because of how much Sofia loved them. The wine you're holding is one she picked out herself."

"Was it because of what happened to her?"

He sighed deeply. "That is a story for another time. One which will greatly tempt a relapse out of me."

Tatiana took the glass and bottle from him.

"Start small. Give it some time. They're not going to open up to you in one day."

He could scarcely believe the words coming out of his lips. Just a few days ago, he wanted this woman to have nothing to do with the kids, and now he was helping her bond with them. It had been a nagging realization gnawing away at him that perhaps the idea of Aunt Tatiana was not the worst thing in the world as long as the kids could be kept far away from the reality of what she did.

They went back to dinner. Tatiana returned her gaze to her niece and nephew who occasionally returned the favour. They ate in relative silence.

"That was lovely. We should really do that again sometime soon."

She tried once more to stir up some enthusiasm in Joe and Donna. Despite her best efforts, they remained more uncertain than forthcoming.

The group of four made their way downstairs.

"There's something I almost forgot to tell you," she said abruptly. "How about season opener tickets for the Yankees? I can get all of us centre field seats. Even a private box."

That certainly got the kids' attention. Joe gasped and looked at her in open-mouthed amazement.

"No way!"

"Yes. How about I pick all of you up next week and go to the game? Face paint, foam fingers and banners are a must though."

"Are you serious?" blurted out Donna, not quite able to trust her ears.

Tatiana smiled and bent down to embrace her niece. This time, she could feel the tiny arms wrap around her neck and hug her back.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"Isn't it too late? I thought the season opener was sold out."

"I know a guy who knows a guy, so shouldn't be an issue," she waved off. "I'm leaving the banners to you. Share pictures of whatever you're making with me on Snapchat, okay? Your Dad has my number."

"You got it," said Donna, smiling from ear to ear. "Thank you so much, Aunt Tatiana."

She smiled, seeming to like the sound of Aunt Tatiana. The kids excitedly ran off upstairs, leaving Roy and their newly beloved Aunt.

"Really?" asked Roy. "You know a guy who knows a guy."

"I know lots of people, Roy," she said sweetly. "Including some very powerful bookies and they happen to know sports agents who can get me any seat I want. Centre field for the Yankees. Court side for the Knicks. Box seats for the Giants. Centre ice for the Rangers. You name it and I can put you there."

"You are going to take my children to see games from seats you got from bookies?" he said, in shocked disbelief.

"... And they are going to love it."

* *

"I'm here to see Ms Tatiana."

Roy was not at her apartment complex this time. Tatiana had instructed him to be at a gym a few blocks down. It was one of the many front businesses she had for cleaning the money she made. The man at the entrance helped him in.

"She's back there," he said, pointing towards the door at the far end of the rows of men and women sweating on treadmills and trying to lift increasing amounts of weight. As expected, there was a man on either side of the door trying their best to look nonchalant. They became suddenly more interested in him as he walked closer to the door.

"Your boss is expecting me."

Nevertheless, he had to undergo the indignity of another frisking and once over with the radio frequency detector before he could go in.

Inside were the more serious gym enthusiasts. No longer just the overweight men and women cheating on the Stairmaster. Inside here, he saw suspended punching bags and a lot of other gear used mainly by boxers and MMA fighters. Barely dressed sweaty men grunted as they unleashed a flurry of moves on their punching bag of choice.

There was a central boxing ring. He immediately recognized Tatiana gloved up and a trainer holding out padded mitts for her to hit. She held her guard up and unleashed a salvo of punches on the mitts. She took a step back and repeated her series of punches, punctuating it with a roundhouse kick at the end.

As she stopped to catch her breath, she saw Roy out of the corner of her eyes and signalled a time out to her instructor.

"Good. You're on time," she panted out, emptying a bottle of water over her head. "Ever thought about stepping into the ring?"

"I think I took enough beatings from the school yard bullies and my old man to never volunteer for more," Roy joked. "What about you? Plan on trying out for the UFC?"

"No. I like it because it warms me up for battle... and believe me, we are going to battle now."

"We are?"

"A small matter of you writing a cheque you could not cash to Frank Lombardini, or did you forget about that?"

"I didn't," he admitted. Very little else had occupied his thoughts of late.

"Anton. Valentin!"

Two men duly showed up.

"Take Mr Saviano to the car and wait for me. We will be paying the Italians a visit."

Roy was escorted by the two men to the car. One of them gave him a cigarette to smoke while they waited. A few minutes later, Tatiana showed up wearing a casual dress one might associate with a quiet evening at home than a meeting with a rival mobster.

"The Red Zone. On the corner of East 191st and Radcliffe."

The driver obeyed. Roy was sandwiched in the back with the two men sporting matching star and swords tattoos on their biceps. He looked straight ahead.

"Thanks for dinner last night. I had almost forgotten how the food at Saviano's tasted."

"You're welcome."

"Here. Take a look," she said, handing over her phone. Roy saw snaps from both Donna and Joe with their banners in support of the Yankees. Tatiana had replied with effusive praise and the picture of three foam fingers. "They're very excited to go."

"Not like we could ever dream of centre field seats before."

"See, me being in their lives isn't the worst thing that could happen."

The car crossed over the 145th Street bridge. Roy stared at the panoramic view of the Harlem river under him and glittering lights on the other side reflecting off the banks.

"Are the kids fond of sailing? I was thinking we could take my yacht from the marina in Edgewater Park and explore the Long Island Sound. The view there is spectacular."

"I'll ask them."

"Don't. I want it to be a surprise. Just tell me any of them is afraid of the water or sailing."

It was all so surreal to Roy. The woman in the passenger seat effortlessly switched between the roles of glad-handing Aunt and sadistic psychopath. It was impossible to fathom both sides of her personality cohabiting the same body. In the moments she was not threatening anyone, she seemed so caring... almost like Sofia.

He shook his head and pushed the thought out of his mind. The rest of the ride went in relative silence until they reached a nightclub with The Red Zone glowing brightly on top of the door outside. There was an expected queue of party-goers outside the door and the doorman held them at bay.

Tatiana got out of the car and beckoned the doorman over to whisper something in his ear. He relayed it to one of the bouncers nearby and they went inside. Roy saw a stony look of determination set on her face, a stark contrast from the friendly expression inside the car as she suggested sailing with the kids.

The bouncer returned and spoke to the doorman in a hushed tone.

"Rear entrance. A man will meet you there and take you to Mr Lombardini's office."

Tatiana, Roy and her two men walked around to the heavy metal door at the back of the club. They passed a young couple too interested in how each other's tonsils felt on their tongues to care about them. One of the men rapped on the door and it swung open. They walked through a narrow hallway. The sounds of thumping music and people shouting were audible, but far enough away that they could hear each other. The corridor ended in a flight of stairs leading down to a double door.

The door opened into a large room. Several intimidating looking men stood inside the room. Tatiana looked decidedly unfazed by the muscle on display. She turned her attention to the large mahogany desk at the far end and the white haired man sitting behind it.

"Tatiana, what a pleasant surprise. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'll have what you're having," she said and he poured out a glass of his preferred Scotch for her.

"What brings you here?"

"Do you recognize him?" she asked, pointing at Roy behind her.

"Yeah, he owes me a lot of money."

"Not any more."

The three words had the cumulative effect of Frank's brow tightening. He was completely unprepared for this discussion.

"What do you mean not any more? He took money from the mob to keep his restaurant afloat. My money... and he knew there would be consequences if he did not pay on time."

"I mean whatever he owes the mob is going to forgiven by the time I leave this office."

"You have to be joking," said one of the men in the room.

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

The man reached inside his jacket. Instinctively, one of Tatiana's men reached for his own gun, but she indicated to him to stay calm. She quietly got up and her ice cold eyes turned to face this man who had just brandished a weapon. It was almost as if she ignored him and saw the Vermeer knock-off hanging on the wall behind him.

"Just give me the word, boss, and I'll give this bitch a new asshole on her face."

Frank sighed deeply. Obviously the young man did not know who he was talking to and had just made a bad situation infinitely worse. Tatiana did not look like a woman with a gun drawn on her. She calmly made her way to the man and placed her forehead in front of the barrel of his gun.

"Go ahead. I dare you."

She looked calm, barely breaking a sweat, but her would-be shooter looked confused and afraid all at once.