Broken Promises

"Why thank you," she said warmly.

"Look, Donna's coming on."

Both she and Joe jumped up beside Roy and saw it. Donna ran in with her team mates and took her spot at the centre circle with the ball. The referee waited until all twenty two players were at their positions before blowing the whistle. The second half was underway.

All three of them cheered vociferously. The opposition half-time talk seemed to have decided that a draw was the best they could hope for. They had taken off two attacking players for two defenders. Donna found herself crowded out. Whenever one of her teammates sent a speculative pass her way, one of the three girls around her intercepted it.

As the match wore on and St Martins essentially camped out in the opposition half waiting for an opening, Donna saw more and more of the ball. She had a header deflected away by the goalie, much to the chagrin of the crowd.

The electronic clock mercilessly counted on. Normal time gave way to stoppage time. Three final minutes.

St Martins launched a final salvo. The ball came down the right wing before being turned inwards. Donna finally managed to shake off her marker and dart into the penalty box. Her left foot connected with the ball, driving it into the roof of the net past the flailing goalie.

The small stadium erupted with cheers. Donna was engulfed by a pile of her teammates. Her last gasp goal had sealed their way to the regional play-offs.

Joe, Roy and Tatiana made their way to the gate and waited. Donna emerged and was congratulated by her peers and their parents alike. She made her way to them, smiling from ear to ear.

"There's the star," beamed Tatiana and hugged her tightly.

"You were amazing," said Joe and hugged his sister.

They got into Tatiana's car and drove off.

"This calls for much ice cream. Don't you agree?"

Everybody in the car liked the suggestion. Tatiana asked her driver to stop outside the nearest Haagen-Dazs.

"All right, people. We have an epic victory to celebrate."

Roy and Joe made their way out. Tatiana was unbuckling her seatbelt in front when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Donna.

"Thanks."

"You haven't even had any ice cream yet," she replied. "Besides, you earned it."

"No, I mean thanks for whatever you told Coach Ellis. I saw you talking to him just before he told me to get ready to come on."

Tatiana smiled and ran her fingers through her niece's brown hair. Donna preferred a pixie cut as opposed to the bangs her mother liked at her age, but even then, Tatiana saw a glimpse of her sister.

"No need to thank me," she said gently. "And let's not tell your father either. If you're serious about playing soccer professionally, I can help with that. Just let me know."

Donna suddenly wrapped her arms around Tatiana's neck. Not to strangle her or choke her like others who had done the same in her line of work. No, this was an entirely new hug. Tatiana hugged her back and kissed her on the cheek.

"Let's go inside. Your father and brother are waiting for us."

* *

"I hate this place."

Tatiana made her displeasure audible for the fifth time in half an hour. The men with her discussed between them if the deed could have been done at the penthouse. All agreed that it was too dangerous. Too much exposure.

"Where is he?"

The men stopped in front of a metal door. Tatiana opened the grate to see a teenage boy sitting inside.

"Are you sure it is the right boy?" she asked her man. He nodded and showed her what else he had found about him.

"Spasiba."

She opened the door and went in with one of her men. The young boy looked up at them with a scared expression. Tatiana calmly sat in front of him and lit a cigarette.

"Where am I? I want to go home."

She acted as if she could not hear the piteous cries.

"Please, lady. Let me go home."

She continued to smoke, unabated.

"I said let me go home. I want to see my Mom. I promise, I won't tell anybody."

"I know you won't," she said softly.

The boy looked at her. His hands were on the table and they trembled. The glare of the solitary bulb in the room hanging above them made him squint.

"Didn't anyone teach you about stranger-danger, Devon? A promise of a pack of cigarettes and you got into a car with a man you had never met before."

"I'm sorry," the poor kid was on the verge of tears.

"I have a personal code. I do not hurt children. Not if I can avoid it. Whether or not I live up to that code now depends entirely on you."

Tatiana nodded and the man came over and grabbed the boy's arms just above the wrist. He struggled in vain for a few minutes before turning his fearful eyes back to her. She reached into her coat and took out a large knife.

"Watch closely. I learnt this from a busker in Paris."

Tatiana jabbed the knife into the table between her thumb and index finger. Slowly, she picked it up and did the same between her index and middle finger. She proceeded further until she had reached the end of her hand.

"The trick is to keep your hand perfectly still. Any small movement and ..." she let the unsaid implication hang in the air. She demonstrated her skill by moving the knife back to her thumb.

"Spread your fingers, Devon. I said, I don't hurt children and you will not make a liar out of me."

The boy could barely move. He gasped, taking deep breaths.

"I said spread... your... fingers."

The boy eventually got the message and did so. He watched as Tatiana slammed the knife into the wood only millimetres to the right of his thumb.

"This is one. Say it. Say one."

"One," came the trembling response.

"Now the gap between your thumb and index finger. Let's call that two."

She made her point by stabbing the wood there.

"Say it."

"Two."

She similarly pointed out three, four and five to the now terrified boy.

"Good, now I want you to keep saying the numbers where my knife goes. Don't look up. Just hear what I have to say and keep saying the numbers. If you stop, you'll regret it."

He had streaks of tears flowing down his face.

"You have been making Joseph's life hell for months now. As much as I would like it, I don't have months to make my point with you."

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

"That's right. Keep counting. Just listen."

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

"You are going to stop picking on Joseph. You will stop picking on anybody. You will go to school and do your best to make sure no one knows you exist."

"One. Three. Five. Two Four."

"You might want to feel big and strong by picking on a kid half your size. When you do, I want you to remember this moment. Remember this exact room and the knife."

"One. Five. One. Four. One. Three. One. Two. One."

She was faster now. Her hand was just a blur. The steel of her knife flashed as she brought it down yet again with a thunk. Grooves had formed in the wood between Devon's fingers.

"I know you live in the Crown projects off 122nd street. I know you play basketball on the street court around the corner. I know your Dad works at Walmart and your Mom works at Supercuts. If you tell anyone about our little meeting, all that goes away. You'll be out on the street and your parents will be out of a job. Do you want that?"

"Five. Four. Five. Three. Five. Two. Five. One. Five."

"If Joseph gets so much as a pebble in his shoe while at school again, I will know. I will find you and we will have to go over this lesson once again. Nod if you understand."

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

He nodded furiously. Tatiana raised the knife high above her head and brought it down between his middle and ring fingers. The sharp end made a thunk as it sank an inch into the wood.

"All kids who are mean to others have one thing in common. They eventually run into someone who is meaner."

She held Devon's chin and turned his face upwards till their gaze met.

"Let's recap. What did we learn today?"

"I will never pick on anyone else or tell anyone about today."

"Swear?"

"I swear. Please let me go home."

"Stand him up."

The man holding his wrists obliged by raising them so Devon had to stand. Tatiana observed the wet patch on his pants.

"Oh dear. Someone might have tried to be braver than they are."

She stood up and saw the pitiful face, streaked with tears and the look of desperate fear writ large across it.

"Just one more thing," said Tatiana. She opened a fresh pack of Newport Lights and held it out for him. "The least I can get you for your trouble are the cigarettes you were promised."

"I don't want them any more."

"Really? You wanted them enough to get into a car with a stranger. Now you don't want them?"

"No."

"But I went through all the hassle to get them for you. Will you make me waste the whole pack just because you changed your mind?"

The boy shook with fear as Tatiana placed the open pack on the table along with her lighter.

"Your mother should have done this the first time she caught you smoking. You are going to finish the whole pack right here, right now. If you stop for too long, I guess we can start counting again."

Still trembling he took out one cigarette from the pack and put it between his lips.

* *

It was a mid-autumn day when Roy Saviano found himself staring at his wife's name etched onto an ornate headstone. It was the day she had breathed her last, exactly three years ago.

He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand which he placed on the earth in front of the stone. He kissed his hand and let his fingertips trace out the letters carved onto the cold, unfeeling stone.

"Gardenia. It was her favourite, wasn't it?"

"Yes," said Roy without even turning back. "She loved her gardenia patch on our terrace. She watered them and cared for them and took pride in how they bloomed. I've planted them again, just so I can bring her some."

Tatiana walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She put her own bouquet down next to his.

"Derzhi yeye khorosho, potomu chto ona byla luchshey sredi nas."

She bent down and planted a soft kiss on top of the headstone.

"How are you holding up?"

Roy put his hands in his pockets and let out a long sigh.

"Hard to believe it's been three years already. It seems just like yesterday that we put her to rest."

Tatiana lit a cigarette and sat on a nearby stone.

"It was a day just like today when she passed," said Roy. "Leaves fell off trees. Birds chirped. It was neither too hot or too cold. People went on picnics. People got married. Babies were born. Life went on. Thousands of people will remember the day Sofia died as the happiest day of their lives."

He clenched his eyes shut tightly.

"When I left the hospital that day, the world looked so strange to me. How could everybody just go on with their lives? I saw someone talking on his phone while eating a breakfast burrito in the lobby. Didn't he know Sofia would never be able to have another breakfast burrito again? My world had ended, how could theirs be just fine?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked at him insistently. Roy dropped to his knees on the grave and dug his fingers into the loose soil.

"It's not fair," he spat out. "What happened to Sofia is just not fair."

"That's it. Let it out."

"When she got sick, we were going to get through it as a family. I took Sofia to chemo in the mornings. Joe and Donna got dressed, reheated breakfast and went to school by themselves. They did not complain. Not even once."

"They're pretty great, aren't they?"

"The doctors weren't hopeful, but Sofia fought. She fought and fought with everything she had. She was so immensely strong. Six months after the doctors had given her a year to live, the cancer was in remission. It was the happiest day of our lives."

Tatiana stubbed out her cigarette. She sat on the headstone in front of the kneeling Roy. Her arms went around his and she clasped her fingers in his.

"It's okay. What happened next is not on you."

"Like hell it isn't. She fought back so hard from the brink for all of us and all I did was..."

"It wasn't your fault, Roy."

"I suggested we go to her friend's wedding in Nyack. It had been so long since we went out somewhere together. She agreed, of course she did. It was not like her to ever refuse. If only she had, we wouldn't have been on the expressway at that time of the night."

Tatiana pulled him up to her and put her arms around him. His arms encircled her waist and his head rested on her lap. As much as he tried to hold it back, twin trails of tears crept down his cheeks.

"The doctors were amazed. Six months after the remission and she was cancer free. That was the happiest time for us as a family. Every day was a day no one thought we would have with her. Going to Nyack for her friend's wedding... it was to show the world that cancer was no match for her. Nobody could take their eyes off her all through the evening. We danced until my feet hurt."

Tatiana ran her fingers through his hair. She knew what came next.

"Sofia insisted we wait for the light to turn green even though there was no traffic. I didn't argue. I took my hands off the steering wheel and caressed her cheek. I still remember how she looked in the streetlight slanting in through the windscreen."

He sighed deeply. He had replayed this scene so many times in his head. Over and over again, in an infinite loop. He had woken up, sweaty and gasping for air for months after the accident with the memory playing in vivid technicolour.

"The drunk driver ran the light and slammed into our rental from her side. He was in a pick up about twice the size of our car. I remember the car slamming into the wall and I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital with cuts, bruises and a concussion, but Sofia... she was so much worse. She was already in the ICU where she spent the next month. There was no more fight left in her."

"Did they catch the driver of the other car?"

"No. I just remember the impact, not the other driver."

Tatiana stood him up and kissed him on either cheek.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Roy. If you want, I can put you in touch with Dr Severin. She's impossible to get an appointment with, but she's definitely worth the trouble. If you could share what you shared with me on her couch, I'm positive she could help you out. She could help you cope."

"I don't need a shrink," he waved off.

"You do right now like you did three years ago. Believe me, I wouldn't recommend her lightly."

"I'll think about it," was the best he could do. She gave him a final embrace before heading back to her car. Once inside, she pulled her phone out.

"Doc. I know it's last minute, but I have someone who really needs your help... Yes, I know you're booked full. I was hoping you could make some time for him... I would really make it worth your while if you agreed... Yes, whatever you want.

How do I know him? He was married to my sister... The same one... I know how much of a help you have been to me and I want the same for him. Any rate you want, I will pay... Great. I'll let him know.

.... Oh, and Dr Severin, it goes without saying, but if you mention a word of what I've told you about my sister to him, I will end you. I will literally drop you where you stand. Are we clear?"

* *

"Let's have it from the top for your Dad."

Donna obliged and eased out the first two stanzas of Moonlight Sonata with consummate ease. She closed her eyes and her fingers danced from key to key while Tatiana stood by the side and admired her work.

"Pozdravlyayem! Your daughter is truly very talented, Roy."

"Donna, could you wait downstairs for a moment? I need to talk to your Aunt."

"Uh oh," Tatiana said in a mock tone of fear. "I'm in trouble."

Donna duly left the room. Tatiana motioned to her men to close the door behind her.

"What have I done now?" she drawled.

"I was at a PTA meeting when I found out from one of the Moms that a student called Devon goes for counselling now. He won't tell anyone what happened, but it was something traumatic enough that he barely talks to anyone, mostly looks like he's scared for his life all the time."

"Sucks for him. What does this have to do with me?"

Roy pointed an accusing finger at her chest.

"I know you had something to do with it. The boy had been bullying Joe and you did something to him because of it."

"Really? I stepped in to settle a bullying dispute in school? Did I stop a convenience store robbery while I was at it too? Maybe even the Kennedy assassination?"

"Don't. Just don't. I can't prove it, no one can, but I know it was you."

Tatiana took his finger from her chest and gently placed it by his side.

"I assume you saw the bruises that boy left on Joe."

"It's a part of growing up and going to school, Tatiana. Joe was dealing with it. We were dealing with it-"

"And how was that working out for you?" she interrupted. "He was still getting beaten black and blue on a daily basis while you were telling him to stand up for himself."

"It doesn't matter. The other boy was just a kid. Whatever you did to him... he didn't deserve it."

"He did," she said grimly. "He did and it's your fault. If you had taken more interest in your son's well-being, I wouldn't have to."

"So you're going to tell me how to parent now?"

"Damn straight I'll tell you how to parent," she spat at him. She grabbed him by the collar and drew him closer. He stared into her blue eyes -- the shade of polished turquoise interspersed with flecks of a darker tint.

"You fucked up, Roy. You were not the parent they needed so I had to be. I couldn't wait for the bullying rite of passage to end, so I ended it myself. I couldn't wait for Donna to get a chance to play for the team, so I made that happen."

He looked at her with a confused dread in his eyes.

"That's right, Roy Saviano. I have done more for your kids in the past month than you have managed to do in the last three years."

"You had no right..." he began unsteadily.

"Really?" said Tatiana, cocking her head. "I remember a night when you were begging for my help right there in the next room. Remember? I made my terms and held out my hand. You shook it. You could have gone home and taken your chances with the Lombardinis yourself, but did you? No. You sat there and shook my hand. You made a deal with me."

Her voice dropped to an even pitch as she drew his face closer. There was hardly any gap between them now.

"I am their God damn fucking Aunt and I will help them however I see fit... and every time it clashes with your feelings and thoughts of what is proper, I want you to remember that night. I want you to remember that you came to me and got on your knees. You opened that fucking door knowing what was on the other side."

She calmly let him go and smoothed his collar and the front of his shirt.

"How about we talk more over dinner? Tomorrow night?"

"You want to come over after Donna's soccer practice?"

"No," she said with a smile. "I meant just you and me."

Roy was taken aback, clearly not expecting this after being admonished for his ineffectual parenting.

"Just you and me?"

"Yes, dorogoi moy," she chuckled. "Just you and number four on the Interpol's most wanted list. Is that too scary for you?"

It was surreal hearing her chuckle to him.

"So how about it? I'll pick you up at eight."

A multitude of thoughts churned inside his head. His brain was struggling to process any of it as it kept coming. He almost sank under the weight of the new information he was being bombarded with. He could not even believe it when he nodded.

"It's a date then," she said and gently patted him on the side of the face.

He continued to look at her with the same expression as if he had been told in his adulthood that Santa was actually real.