by Macca

Chapter 1

Enrico Valdez walked into his small office and flopped down into the rickety desk chair. He swung his long legs around until they landed on top of the gray metal desk amidst all the neglected paperwork he had been avoiding for days. He reached into his jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He knew if he could just relax for a few moments he would feel better. Enrico was a social worker, living in Harlem, who had turned twenty-four earlier in the summer. In a few short years he had managed to get his college degree, land a job, and take up residence in this old brick building that loomed above the troubled neighborhood below. His mixture of Puerto Rican-Mexican heritage allowed him to move around the familiar streets of the ghetto virtually unnoticed. His ability to speak fluent Spanish served as a tool to communicate with the many families he came into contact with who shared his own nationality. Enrico, an only child, had grown up in Harlem surrounded by poverty. His father Ramon was an alcoholic who never stayed employed for long, his job performance suffering under the influence of a whiskey bottle. He would pick up his paycheck on Friday and by Sunday had managed to drink away the meager wages he did earn. Once out of money Ramon would become angry and abusive, which eventually resulted in a situation that forced Enrico out into the streets at sixteen. His father's drinking out of control, the beatings horrendous.

Today had been particularly hard. He had wanted to change his world for other inner city kids, making it easier for them than his growing-up years had been. This is why he had chosen social work as his profession, but every day his work only brought reminders of the past. As he leaned back in his chair and inhaled the nicotine that he hoped would numb his brain, he thought of Pedro Lopez and his mother. They were poor, but everyone in Harlem was poor. Pedro's drunken father had ran off nearly a year ago, leaving his mother to collect welfare and try to make ends meet on the little she got from the government each month. A story like the hundreds of others in the files that were strewn across his desk. "Why is this case different?" he mused to himself. "Why can't I get it out of my head?" Enrico knew the first rule of casework was not to get emotionally involved and he was trying hard not to let that happen. His past had hardened him--he could be objective, yet understand the needs of the people he served. But this case would not let go of his brain. The question before him begged an answer. The need to find a solution pounded in his head until it started to give him a headache that no amount of nicotine would take from him. He got up and moved to a small cot that occupied the corner of his office. He lay down, his head now aching unbearably as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic container. Unscrewing the cap, he took out two small white tablets, popped them in his mouth and swallowed hard…migraines having plagued him over the last few years. He closed his eyes and waited patiently for the pills to work their magic. He wanted sleep to claim him in the worst way, but to no avail. He felt restless and Pedro and his mother would not leave his thoughts. He knew why, he knew he understood their pain first hand. He thought of his mother Serefina, a Mexican beauty with long raven hair, and large dark eyes that spoke volumes to you when touched by them. He thought of her weakness, her inability to cope with the abuse that had been a constant in their home. The abuse increased as his father became consumed by bitterness and continued to withdraw into a whiskey bottle for comfort. Ramon had been strong and able bodied, but had chosen to become anti-social and useless. The situation had finally reached the point of no return, and they had both suddenly died. Enrico remembered the authorities arriving and removing him from their home, dragging him out in handcuffs. Enrico rubbed his temples, not wanting to think of his parents any longer. It was a pain he chose not to deal with. He fought to escape any thoughts of the one horrible day that had changed his life forever. Afterwards he had been so frightened and lonely, but unwavering with determination. Once free, Enrico had refused to give into the poverty and abuse, and instead had focused on his education. Realizing that these thoughts only kept his head pounding, he decided to turn his attention to Pedro. Pedro first came into his life because his teacher had become concerned with a change in his attitude toward his schoolwork. Once eager to please his teachers and show off his natural intelligence, lately Pedro was missing assignments and getting into trouble. Sara Whitman was worried that something had changed in his life to bring on the concern that she now felt for him. Sara was Pedro's third grade teacher at the local public school. She had seen him as a bright second grader in her accelerated math class. She was sure something was very wrong in his life. Enrico thought back to the first time he visited Pedro. His home was typical inner city Hispanic. His mom had decorated it with images of the Virgin of Guadeloupe and other saints and tried to make her poverty comfortable for her family. The once pretty woman unfortunately showed the effects of her challenged life. Over the past few weeks, Enrico had come to know the family quite well. Pedro was the second son of two and he had three sisters, two older and one younger than he. His older brother Luis, who at sixteen, was now starting to feel the responsibility of having to help take care of his family. He had dropped out of school and was working in a hardware store to help supplement his mother's government check. Working long hours, Luis no longer had the time to be the male role model in his little brother's life. Pedro seemed to be craving a male influence that could provide him with the stability and security that he was lacking at such a tender age. Enrico remembered that need in his own young life and how it had never been fulfilled. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud banging at his door.

"Hey Ric, are you in there?" a loud voice asked from the hallway. He smiled to himself; shook has head and got up to answer the banging.

"About time" Patrick greeted as he hugged Enrico, slapping him on the back.

"What are you doing out at this hour?"

"Visiting you," he answered as he entered the room with long even strides.

Patrick Conway had become close with Enrico over the past couple of years. They had met for the first time in a courtroom in lower Manhattan when Enrico had attended the trial of a young boy who had been accused of robbing a convenience store and shooting the owner. He had worked for months trying to help Justin Slater, trying to convince him to give up his drug habit, leave the streets, finish his education and go back to his family. He had poured hours into this particular case. Patrick, who volunteered his services to help inner city kids, had agreed to represent Justin in court with Enrico filling him in on the young teen’s background and trying to work with Patrick to prove his innocence. Their victory in court had been glorious only to be thwarted by the fact that Justin was killed two days later during a drug deal that had went all wrong. Enrico had been devastated. Patrick had been by his side to remind him that he was getting too emotionally involved, and if anyone should shoulder the blame, it was Justin himself.

The two men had hit it off immediately. Each one was committed to their chosen field of work, both wanting to make a difference, both embracing a strong work ethic, with backgrounds that were different as night and day. With All-American good looks, Patrick was blond, blue eyed, large framed, 6' 4" in height, and fair skinned. He wore an easy smile, causing his steel blue eyes to twinkle when he spoke. His honey colored hair, which was streaked with sun highlights, hung loosely over his forehead, enhancing the boyish charm that he possessed. He had an endearing personality and was able to make easy conversation with anyone he came into contact with. Enrico was sure that no bigger heart beat within another man.

Enrico on the other hand wore his thick ebony hair long, the ends almost touching his shoulders. He was not quite as tall as Patrick, standing 6' 2", medium framed, slighter in build, his long legs making him look taller than his height. His caramel colored skin was smooth and clean-shaven and when he smiled it was brilliant, outlined on each side by huge dimples. He was extremely handsome with large black eyes that were capped with long lashes inherited from his mother. His expressive eyes had the ability to look into your soul, delve into your thoughts and served as windows to his own soul--a soul that was troubled, a soul that longed for a peaceful existence, longed for someone to care.

Unlike Enrico, Patrick had grown up in a very wealthy home that was filled with love. His father had provided well for his family and money was never an issue. He had attended Harvard law school and had graduated in the top ten of his class. Katharine, his only sibling, lived in France and his parents had recently left to visit her and the newest addition to the Conway family, a baby girl, the first grandchild. He and Enrico had spent hours talking, sharing, and making an unexplainable connection…allowing them to become as close as any two brothers. Patrick's heart had been shaken by Enrico's brief details of his childhood, knowing that the pain went much deeper than his friend would admit. He tried to get him to open up about the abuse he had suffered but Enrico was neither comfortable nor trusting enough to do that ...he wasn't quite sure which one it was.

"I'm grateful for the visit, but I know you better than that, hermano!", Enrico chided as he sat down at his desk. "You must have an ulterior motive for coming to Harlem at this time of night."

"You are so cynical" Patrick laughed. "But right as usual. Believe me, if there were more whites in this neighborhood, I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb." He took the only other available seat in the room, an overstuffed chair, broken down by time; stuffing hanging from it's sagging frame. "We could hang out more if you would just come and live with me at the penthouse. I have more than enough room you know. Besides, I hate putting my life on the line every time I want to visit this palace."

Enrico sat at his desk, smiling over at his friend and shaking his head. "We've been through all of that. My place is in Harlem…. It's my home hermano."

"Alright" Patrick relented. "Besides, I didn't come here to try to get you to move.. at least not tonight" he grinned. "I just wanted to know if you could tear yourself away from this luxury hotel long enough to go to the Hamptons with me for a couple of days?"

"Gee, I don't know, it's a hard choice" Enrico smiled good-naturedly. "I guess I could use the time away, but I don't know if I'm in the mood to hobnob with the crowd that hangs out there on the weekends."

"Don’t worry" Patrick assured. "I know how the jet set crowd makes you feel uncomfortable. I have a quiet weekend planned, just the two of us, the beach and the babes!"

"Alright!" he relented. "It’ll give me some time to tell you about this case I'm working on. I need your cool, objective head to help me figure out the best way to handle it. Let me go up to my apartment and throw a few things in my backpack and I'll be ready to go.

Enrico stood up and stuffed his cigarettes back into his jeans pocket. A wave of dizziness from the migraine hit him like a ton of bricks causing him to sit down again. He rested his head back on the chair, closed his eyes and waited for the spinning in his head to subside. His stomach was like a roller coaster and was threatening to make an appearance. He prayed that he wouldn’t be sick in front of Patrick and add to the embarrassment that he already felt. Patrick leaned forward in his chair, worry masking his face. He had witnessed these headaches of Enrico's on several occasions and knew better than to show a great deal of concern and let him handle it in his own way. His first impulse was to mother him-- as Enrico referred to it. But he knew him all too well and didn’t want Enrico to bow out of the invitation, so he waited patiently.

Fifteen minutes later the two men climbed the four flights of stairs to Enrico's tiny apartment. As they entered, Enrico made his way back to the bedroom to pack. Patrick sat on the beat-up sofa, the companion piece to the chair in the office.

"I don't know how you can live in this roach motel" he hollered out to him.

"It's not that hard if you don’t insult the roaches" Enrico yelled back jokingly. He knew it wasn’t the best place to live, but it was the home of his people. He just learned to make the best of it and joking about it was his way of forgetting how bad it really was. But for two hundred and fifty a month, it was also all he could afford. Government workers were not paid a fortune to do what he did. As soon as Enrico had finished packing the two men were on their way to spend a relaxing weekend at the Conway family beach house.

It was well after two o'clock in the morning when they arrived. Unlocking the door, Patrick flipped on the light and discarded his luggage. Enrico followed suit and placed his backpack next to the large oak hall tree.

"Want a coke?" Patrick offered heading towards the kitchen and opening the fridge.

When Enrico didn't answer he looked around. He saw him standing in the hallway just outside the kitchen admiring a seascape portrait that graced the wall.

"I love this painting" he claimed turning to Patrick.

"I know, you say that every time you visit here" he laughed.

He turned to the opposite wall to glimpse at the large number of family photos, each frame complimenting the picture it held. Enrico enjoyed looking at each one….smiling faces portraying the love that was a constant in the Conway family. His eyes stopped at a picture of Patrick and his father, their arms around each other, with huge smiles holding up a large swordfish that they had caught deep-sea fishing.

"Great picture of you and your dad fishing" he commented as he moved toward the kitchen table.

"Yeah, that was a fun vacation. Hauling in that fish was not an easy task. Of course dad was behind me yelling out all sorts of instructions." Patrick laughed at the memory and joined Enrico at the table. He pushed a can of Diet Coke in his direction as he grabbed a bag of nacho chips from the counter.

"In your honor bro" he teased as he unsealed the bag and grabbed a handful of chips. "Want some?" he offered.

"No thanks" Enrico answered as he reached into his jeans pocket for a cigarette.

"You never eat" Patrick scolded, "that's way you're so damn thin."

"Well you never stop, and that's why you're so fat," he countered, his face solemn.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I am not fat" Patrick objected looking down at his lean body, pretending to be wounded by the joke but still stuffing chips into his mouth just the same. His blue eyes twinkled as he flipped a chip at Enrico, hitting him in the chest.

"Hey, watch it," Enrico warned, "I'd hate to have to come over there and kick your ass."

"That’ll be the day." Patrick laughed flipping another chip at him.

"How’s the headache?"

"Better" Enrico assured.

"So tell me about this new case you’re working on" Patrick asked casually, relaxing back into his chair.

Enrico inhaled deeply on his cigarette, tilting his head to release the smoke that swirled into the air. "The little boy's name is Pedro, he is a third grader, his dad is a drunk who decided one day to just pack up and leave. There are five children in the family, the mother works her ass off to make ends meet and his older brother Luis has dropped out of school and is now working to try to help support them. Pedro's teacher, Sara Whitman, called our office because she noticed his grades were slipping and she sensed there was trouble. Of course this Miss Whitman thinks she knows it all and is sure she can cure the problem by reading some screwed up textbook. To say we have butted heads over this case is an understatement."

Patrick studied his friend carefully, giving him his full attention. "What do you think?" Patrick asked taking a drink of Coke.

"Well I went to Pedro's house. It was a typical home in Harlem. Pedro's mom has tried hard to make the place livable, but what can you do on a welfare check? The government barely gives her enough to put food on the table each month. I met Luis once, on a rare night off. He works very hard and I tried to talk him into going back to school and getting his diploma, but I think he feels a responsibility as the oldest child to help support his family."

"Does Pedro need help in your opinion?" Patrick asked thoughtfully.

"All these kids need help, but to what degree?" Enrico asked, his face reflecting concern. "He seems typical for the ghetto, but if this Ms. Whitman is correct in her assessment of his academic abilities, then I have my work cut out for me. His school work is declining and he now has a failing grade in math, supposedly his best subject. Obviously there is a problem, I just have to find a way to gain his trust so he'll open up and confide in me."

"I know a way bro,... but you’re not going to like it."

"Anything"...Enrico said looking up with a trace of hope in his eyes.

Patrick shifted in his chair, not sure how to present his idea. "I think you should tell him about your childhood so..."

Before Patrick could finish his thought, Enrico was on his feet. "Forget it hermano…no way."

"Why? Why is it so hard for you to talk about it?"

"What happened to me has nothing to do with Pedro, that's all" he proclaimed, crushing out his cigarette.

"It has everything to do with Pedro" Patrick tried to reason. "Don't you see...if you tell him...then he’ll feel he is not alone...he will know you understand."

"I can't Patrick, not even for Pedro" he admitted, shaking his head while running his fingers through his hair. "I can never tell anyone" he stated with resolve, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes filled with such pain that Patrick had to look away.

"You can tell me" Patrick offered sincerely.

"Not even you, hermano" he declared. "I enjoy our friendship too much for that."

Patrick sat forward in his chair, his eyes intense. "Enrico...no matter what you tell me...it could never affect our friendship, I just want you to know that."

"You say that now....but it would change...and I am not willing to chance it." Unlike you Patrick, I need this friendship. I need you to look at me as a fellow professional, someone you can trust, someone you can work with, not like some monster that just crawled out from under a damn rock."

Patrick straightened up in his chair with anger edging at his voice. "You listen to me Enrico, this is not some casual friendship that we share. You have become the brother that I never had....I need you to be around for me as well...I need someone I can confide in...someone who will understand my problems and concerns without judging me or questioning my reasons. You are always there when I need to talk. We have spent hours hashing over my problems…..I would like to do the same for you just once. This is not one sided and if you think I'm hanging around you for kicks than you're sadly mistaken. Oh and just for the record...I do trust you, I would trust you with my life...I just wish you felt the same."

"I do trust you Patrick...I just don't trust myself."

Patrick had been trying for two years to get Enrico to open up about his past and all the pain that he had locked up inside himself. He knew he had to be patient, and perhaps with time he would feel comfortable enough to confide in him. "Fair enough, we’ll drop it for now...but I’m not giving up."

The subject of Enrico's past and Pedro's case was dropped for the remainder of the weekend. Both men needing the relaxation that the beach offered, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the droves of beautiful girls that they seem to attract wherever they went.

Chapter 2

It was a beautiful September morning as Enrico made his way down 8th avenue. The air was crisp and cool as he zipped up his dark blue sweatshirt jacket that he wore over a red T-shirt. Faded blue jeans hugged his long frame in all the right spots and his white Nike tennis shoes made long even strides as he crossed the street, his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jacket. He had splurged on the Nikes deciding that since his only means of transportation for the most part was his feet, he needed shoes that were both supportive as well as comfortable.

Pushing the door open to Max's diner, Enrico eased himself onto the first empty barstool at the counter. The décor was early flea market, mostly in a 50's theme, with doo-wop music blaring from the old Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner. He loved the oldies music and the simplicity of the lyrics. As he sat down, Teenager in Love by Dion and the Belmonts finished playing and Little Star by the Elegants began. Times were simpler back then Enrico supposed, and he enjoyed listening to the various groups that had helped pioneer rock and roll into what it was today. He drummed his fingers idly on the counter to the beat, thinking that his first career choice might have been in music instead of social work if he were honest with himself. Music made him feel alive inside and such a simple thing brought him hours of pleasure. "I would have been a drummer" he thought, "the next Buddy Rich." He spent many evenings in his tiny apartment with the radio blasting while he banged away on textbooks using a couple of tablespoons for drumsticks. He laughed to himself at how ridiculous that sounded.

"A penny for your thoughts, handsome."

Enrico looked up and smiled as Marge approached him with a hot cup of coffee.

"Buenos dias senora" he smiled.

Marge had worked at Max's as long as he could remember. She was in her late fifties he guessed, and always wore her bottle red hair in a French twist with a fake diamond barrette in the back. Her makeup was applied generously, and Enrico thought the bright pink lipstick that she wore to match her pink waitress uniform seemed to fit her brassy but irresistible personality. Marge loved to flirt, especially with all the younger male patrons in the diner, and Enrico was no exception.

"Damn, I love those dimples" she teased as she pinched his cheek.

"You say that to all the men" he teased back, blushing slightly.

"That's where you’re wrong, honey--no one else that comes in here has a smile as bright and irresistible as yours. Want to talk about your incredible eyes?" she continued to tease as she leaned on one elbow and smiled her sweetest smile.

"Your place or mine?" he winked, flirting back.

"Oh...don't tempt this old lady with such offers, or else I might just take you up on one of them!" she warned.

"You say that every day, Marge...empty promises" he teased shaking his head, "I don't believe you anymore" he exclaimed, looking up at her with large sorrowful eyes.

"That is the saddest look I have ever seen young man, but I’ve been around the block too many times to fall for that."

Enrico snapped his fingers, gesturing his defeat.

"What will it be this morning?" she asked pulling the pencil from the side of her hair and reaching into her apron pocket for her order pad.

"Just bring me some whole wheat toast."

"A growing boy like you should start the day off with something better than that...do you want me to call your mama, young man?"

"Now Marge."

"Don't you Marge’ me...how about a bowl of oatmeal? That should hold you until lunchtime. You need to put some meat on those bones if you’re going to survive in this neighborhood."

Enrico pouted sweetly, "You don't like my body huh? "

"Let's not talk about your body young man, your working my heart into a frenzy and at my age that ain't so good."

Enrico laughed as she disappeared through the double doors that led to the kitchen, all the while calling over her shoulder that she was bringing the oatmeal like it or not. He smoked a cigarette and sipped on his coffee as he thumbed through the sports page of a newspaper that had been left on the barstool next to his.

After finishing his meal and flirting a little more with Marge, he picked up his pack of cigarettes and headed down 8th avenue towards Lincoln Elementary. He had an early morning appointment at the school with Sara Whitman concerning Pedro Lopez's progress. Enrico had managed to win the young boy’s trust over the last few weeks, and as a result, Pedro had started opening up to him. He had spent hours of his own time on this case, talking to Pedro's mother and reassuring her that with time her situation was bound to improve. In the past week he had also approached Luis once again about returning to school to complete his education. He could tell that Luis was starting to realize that a career in the hardware business was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He had told Enrico that he had always dreamed of being a doctor, and perhaps finishing his education wasn't such a bad idea after all. Enrico had promised Luis that he would beat down every agency door in town until he was able to find a way to help his mother supplement her income if he promised to return to his high school. True to his word, and after many long hours of hearing "no" to his requests, Enrico was able to convince an agency to approve the money needed to help the Lopez family. He wasn't sure if they heeded to his requests because they agreed that this particular family needed the extra income, or that they finally buckled from his insistence and unwavering demands. He grinned as he remembered the flicker of hope in Maria Lopez's eyes when he informed her that the help she had so desperately needed was now going to become a reality. Afterwards, Enrico had talked Luis into working only on Saturdays at the hardware store…thus spending the rest of his time on his studies and completing the remainder of his junior year of high school.

Enrico knocked on the door of Ms. Whitman's classroom. She turned from the blackboard where she was writing out the daily math lesson. When she saw Enrico through the glass her expression turned stern and defensive.

"Buenos dias" he smiled as she opened the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Valdez, and please speak English--we are in the United States after all."

"If you insist, Ms. Whitman" he countered, trying hard to remain pleasant.

Sara sat behind her desk as he leaned against one of the small student desks adjacent to hers. She couldn't help but notice his long legs and how they molded into his tight jeans. She tried not to notice how handsome he was this morning and how his long black hair glimmered under the lighting in the room, only to be enhanced by the blue of his jacket. She liked him in blue, it was definitely his color. Her mind was wandering again...it happened every time he was around. She hated the fact that he was so distracting while she was trying to be so professional. It was his fault..after all she had dealt with many social workers in her career and had never had such problems as she did with Enrico Valdez. Clearing her throat she tried to refocus her attention.

"I want to talk to you about Pedro Lopez." She looked up at Enrico as he nodded, his eyes burning into her thoughts, his attention focused on what she had to say. She cleared her throat once again, now embarrassed that she let herself become so frazzled under his gaze.

"Estoy esperando (I am waiting)" he stated impatiently shifting his weight from one hip to another.

"Speak English" she reminded him once again, sure that he spoke Spanish just to antagonize her. She reached over for the file folder on her desk and as she shuffled through the various evaluation sheets, she spoke without looking up.

"I must admit that Pedro's grades do show an improvement over the last couple of weeks. He doesn't seem so distracted...as a matter of fact he has become quite the little comedian. Whenever I look up from a lesson he is whispering jokes in his neighbor’s ear. So instead of being distracted he has become the distracter."

Enrico laughed to himself, his eyes gleaming. "Maybe he'll be the next Freddie Prinze" Enrico surmised, still grinning at the thought of Pedro telling jokes.

"Mr. Valdez, I fail to see the humor" Sara scolded, "Pedro needs to focus on his work and not disrupt the class."

"Lighten up Ms. Whitman...Pedro sounds like he is doing much better—you’re getting all bent out of shape over nothing."

Her face reddened with anger as she moved from behind the desk and stood facing Enrico toe to toe. "You are so unprofessional."

"Gracias" he grinned his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You need to speak with Pedro--he seems to have placed a great deal of trust in you. He needs to know that there is a time and place for everything, and telling jokes during class is neither acceptable nor appropriate."

"I’ll talk to him this morning Ms Whitman…don’t blow a gasket" he replied with a salute. Enrico knew he was annoying her but for some reason she just brought out the worst in him. He found it hard to be serious when she had demonstrated such an unbending attitude toward this case since the very beginning. He felt she needed to be less rigid and more accepting of his unorthodox approach to behavior management. He firmly believed that solutions were not always found in textbooks. His street smarts had given him somewhat of an advantage when handling troubled kids from Harlem--after all he understood their pain and realized their dreams.

Enrico’s eyes gazed over her diminutive stature as she turned and walked away from him. "She is kinda attractive," he thought, noticing her auburn hair sway against her shoulders as she gracefully moved toward the bookcase that was located at the back of the room. Her gray-green eyes had held such conviction, her creamy skin smooth with just a hint of pink in her cheeks. "Yeah, she is attractive alright….that is if you like barracudas" he summarized as he straightened up and readied himself to leave.

"Can I be dismissed teacher?" he teased as he moved toward the door. She turned around and shot daggers at him with her eyes as he walked out.

He laughed to himself as he hurried down the hall and made his way into the school office, walking past the secretary who insisted that he wait outside to be announced before entering the Principal's office…but as usual the warning fell on deaf ears.

"Good morning" Enrico greeted as he flopped down in the nearest chair and grinned over at Sam Phelps. Sam was in his mid-fifties and graying around the temples. His first job at Lincoln Elementary had been as a sixth grade teacher…. and after ten years of hard work and dedication, he had finally earned a much deserved promotion as Principal. Sam’s academic prowess and willingness to work with each student as an individual had proved to be a real asset to the school, affording him great respect by his peers. He had been widowed after twenty-five years of marriage two years prior, and Enrico often teased him by threatening to hook him up with Marge from the diner.

"Hi kid, how's it going?" he asked looking up from his paperwork and at the same time waving his secretary from the office...telling her that Enrico's unannounced visit was alright.

"Good, I just spoke with your Ms. Whitman, and she tells me that Pedro Lopez is doing much better...his grades have improved and he is now the resident comedian."

"I suppose you wouldn't have anything to do with that?" Sam grinned as he leaned back in his chair.

"Me?" Enrico yelped in mock surprise as he pointed at his chest.

"Well you seem to have a way of flustering one of my best teacher’s young man!"

Enrico chose to ignore the remark, his expression turning serious. "Do you think he is doing better Sam?"

"Enrico, you worry too much. I have seen you with Pedro....you have done a wonderful job building trust and helping him with his schooling. Matter of fact I have asked for Pedro to be sent to my office as soon as he arrives this morning...which should be anytime" he said, checking his watch.

The words had no more than left Sam’s mouth when the secretary walked in to announce that Pedro was waiting outside.

"Send him in" Sam gestured.

Pedro walked in slowly, one finger in his mouth and appearing to be very apprehensive. As soon as his eyes fell on Enrico, a wide tooth grin immediately spread across his small face, his dark eyes twinkling. Enrico gave him a high five gesture with his hand as Pedro crawled up on his lap and hugged him tightly around the neck.

"I hear your math grades have improved" he praised, looking down at the small child.

"Si"

"Remember what I told you Pedro? You must speak English here in school. So what would your answer be?"

"Yes" Pedro corrected looking up at Enrico with admiring eyes.

"I also hear from Ms. Whitman that you have been telling our jokes in class?"

"Yeah Enrico...I'm a hit!"

Enrico looked over at Sam and both men could hardly contain themselves from laughing. "Well, we need to talk about that Pedro."

"Why, Enrico--did I not tell them right?"

"No, no, that's not it at all" he said, shaking his head and absently stroking the young boy's hair. "You see, I didn’t explain myself too well. When we tell these jokes it must be outside the classroom….perhaps on the playground at recess time. The classroom is for serious time...time you must spend learning and making your brain grow bigger and bigger so that you can grow up to be a very successful Hispanic one day. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Si...I mean yes, I understand...no more jokes during class...only at recess time."

"Good boy!"

"Anything for you, Enrico!"

"No little one….this is not for me...you are doing this for you" Enrico corrected, pointing to the small boy’s chest. "You are going to make your mama very proud someday Pedro Lopez….and when you do, it will be because you worked very hard and listened well."

Sam watched as Enrico performed his magic. He had never dealt with any other caseworker that seemed to have such an effect on his children. He knew that Enrico's heart was filled with sincerity and love for every child he worked with no matter what their age, race or background--he related with them, and in doing so made an undeniable impact on their lives. Sam was sure that Enrico was not even aware of the gift that he possessed.

The bell resounded from the hallway outside and Pedro hurriedly climbed down from Enrico's lap, but not without giving him a big hug first.

"Will I see you later?" he asked.

"Yes little one….I will stop by for a visit at the end of the week?"

Pedro nodded and looked to Sam for permission to leave.

"You may go" Sam said with a nod of his head.

Pedro turned to leave but not without stopping at the doorway to wave goodbye to Enrico.

"Remember, no more jokes in class" he reminded Pedro once more as he returned the wave.

"I promise!" Pedro assured with a grin.

Chapter 3

Enrico ran up the steps to his office taking two at a time all the while humming a tune to himself. It had been a productive week, a week of happy endings. He was wrapping up the Lopez case and had managed to work in another visit with Pedro earlier that day as he had promised. Enrico smiled to himself as he thought about the new batch of jokes he had taught Pedro today and how the small boy would be a hit on Monday at recess. He knew in his heart that the family was going to be all right, that they would survive the hardships that had been bestowed upon them in the past year. He had also taken the opportunity to stop by the hardware store where Luis was working to make sure his plans of returning to school the following week had not changed. He had seemed genuinely happy to see Enrico and assured him that he had already been down to the school office and checked on his schedule for the remainder of the semester. Luis told him that he realized that he had some catching up to do in several of his classes, but thought that he was up for the challenge. If anything, he seemed to revel in the thought of it.

Holding his cigarette between his lips Enrico reached into his pocket for the keys to his office. Shoving open the door with his shoulder, he tossed the folders that he had been carrying under his arm into the drawer of the file cabinet. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and reached for a packet of papers that was laying on his desk. As he studied the evaluation sheets of a prospective client he unconsciously rubbed at the stiffness in his neck. Enrico worked for two more hours…finishing up the paperwork on his desk. Checking his watch, he decided to call it a day and go up to his apartment. Just as he started to climb the stairs, the entrance door flew open and in bounded Patrick.

"Enrico…wait up" Patrick called out.

"Hermano, what are you doing here?" He smiled, returning the greeting.

"I have come to take you away from this palace."

"Oh yeah, what's up?"

"How about a fun filled evening with a couple of hot chicks?"

"Now you're talking" Enrico laughed. "How did you manage that?"

"Charm my amigo, pure charm."

"Well come on up Valentino and give me all the gory details" Enrico laughed as he started back up the stairs.

"By the way Ric, I have something I want to give you."

Enrico turned around and frowned but Patrick ignored the face and pushed him on the back to hurry him up.

"I'll be right with you" Enrico assured as he headed for the bathroom.... make yourself at home."

"Make myself at home... you got to be kidding" Patrick mumbled under his breath as he unzipped his jacket and stood in the middle of the room. "This place never changes" he concluded ruefully shaking his head as his eyes scanned the apartment. It was compact with only four rooms. There was a small efficiency kitchen with a tiny wooden table and two chairs in the corner of the eating area, one small bedroom, an even smaller bathroom and then there was the living room which was furnished in what Patrick would describe as early junk. He noticed that Enrico was still using a small black and white TV that was sitting on the top shelf of a built in bookcase in the middle of one wall. The other three shelves below were filled with books of poetry, travel, history, and sociology textbooks from Enrico's college days and various biographies. Patrick pulled out the last two books which were on the basics of drumming featuring Buddy Rich and quickly thumbed through the pages. Enrico had told him of his dream to someday not only own his own set of drums but to be able to master them as well as his hero. At the end of the shelf there sat one lone ceramic frame with a picture of Enrico and himself that had been taken earlier in the summer at the beach house in the Hamptons. Patrick picked up the photo and for the first time noticed that they were standing in front of the seascape painting that Enrico loved so much. They had their arms around each other's shoulders, both wearing t-shirts and jeans and the biggest smiles they could manage. Patrick grinned as he remembered back to the weekend the photo had been taken and how he had enjoyed teaching Enrico to not only fish but to swim as well. He had the same picture on the wall of his Manhattan law office to remind himself of how much he treasured the brotherhood that he shared with his friend. His eyes fell on the coffee table that sat in front of the broken down sofa. He noticed a small black Bible that lay open with its tattered pages and worn cover. He thought about moving to the sofa and looking through the bible… but changed his mind when he heard the bathroom door open.

"What did you do fall in?" Patrick teased as Enrico sauntered into the living room. He ignored the comment as he lit another cigarette and plopped down on the sofa, casually reaching to close the cover of the Bible that he had been reading the night before.

"So tell me about these senorita's that you have lined up for tonight?"

"Their hot bro... well at least Lisa is" Patrick confided as he eased down into a nearby chair.

"And I take it that Lisa is your date?"

"Yeah, but your date is as hot..... Probably hotter!"

"Have you ever seen her Patrick?" Enrico asked skeptically.

"Well not exactly, but Lisa told me she is the model type."

"Yeah, well I've heard that one before" he scowled, taking a drag off his smoke.

"Little faith have thee" Patrick laughed..."just be ready by eight o'clock sharp and I'll be back to pick you up."

"Don't bother picking me up, I'll just meet you."

"It's no bother."

"Don't argue"

"Okay..if you insist..besides I hate showing my white ass in this neighborhood once it starts getting dusk."

"Where we going?" Enrico asked smiling at Patrick's remark.

"How about taking in dinner and going to "The Revolution" afterwards?"

"Great, I love that place. But I must warn you amigo...I have been practicing some new moves for the dance floor...you will not have a chance once I turn on my Latin charm" Enrico cautioned in a thick Mexican accent.

Patrick laughed and shook his head. "I think I can hold my own against that so called Latin charm" he chided confidently.

"Well we'll just see" Enrico warned crushing out his cigarette, smiling broadly.

"Why don't you meet me at my place around seven-thirty and we'll take my car from there?"

Enrico checked his watch. "That gives me about three hours to get ready....I think I'll be able to manage that."

"By the way, I did bring you something...and before you give me any flak, just hear me out, okay?" Patrick asked turning serious.

Enrico looked over at Patrick, leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand…watching as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

"I want you to have this Enrico...that way I can contact you when I need to....whether it be for personal or business matters. I’ve already programmed in my numbers..all you have to do is push this button and it automatically dials me" he explained handing him the phone. "Is that not cool or what?"

"It's cool...gracias...but what about the monthly bill?"

"Business write off" Patrick assured, pleased that he was finally accepting one of his gifts. He felt a sense of relief that he would now be able to stay in touch with Enrico throughout the day. He knew this neighborhood could be dangerous and he wanted Enrico to have a way to contact him if he ever needed help.

"Here is the instruction booklet that goes with the phone," Patrick said standing up to leave. "I'm going to take off while I still have a chance of going home with the same hubcaps on my car that I came with" he teased as he headed for the door.

"Okay hermano, adios...oh and remember...you’ve been warned!"

Patrick looked back at Enrico questioningly.

"Latin charm, remember?" he teased, using the same thick accent he had earlier.

Patrick rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked out and headed for his car.

It was midnight and the noise from the street below had quieted and only a lone siren could be heard wailing in the distance. The ragged shade at the window flapped aimlessly in the cool breeze causing it to bang against the window frame. Enrico lay on the broken down couch, his long legs stretched out touching the end of the armrest. His head had been pounding for hours now as he closed his eyes waiting for the pills to take affect and numb the pain. His stomach had been upset most of the evening and the vomiting had not helped matters. He had laid down to take a short nap after Patrick left, only to be awaken by one of the worst migraine headaches he had ever experienced. His mind had returned him to the past, and he wanted nothing more than to be free from the thoughts that haunted him. He had left a message for Patrick on his voice mail but had not heard back from him. He hated disappointing Patrick and being the one responsible for ruining the plans that had been made earlier.

Enrico closed his eyes once again, his mind drifting.

"Stop it, please" he screamed as his own voice awakened him from his dream. He sat up on the edge of the couch his face covered with sweat, his hair wet. He heard a banging at the door and his name being called...he tried to get up but was overcome by dizziness, lying back down.

"Ric, are you in there?"

Not hearing a reply, Patrick took out his key and unlocked the door. "Ric, are you here?" he called again flipping on a light.

Enrico grabbed a pillow and shielded his eyes from the glare. Patrick crossed the room and stopped in front of the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"I need help into the bathroom"

"Okay, no problem."

Enrico slowly sat up, his face white with pain. His stomach was threatening retaliation once again as Patrick grabbed him by the arm and led him into the small room. He watched as Enrico held his stomach, his body retching with dry heaves. He steadied him, afraid that he would pass out if he left him alone. Finally spent Enrico eased to the sink and took a drink of water.

"Let me help you into bed" Patrick suggested, his voice strained with concern.

Enrico didn't say anything as Patrick guided him into the bedroom.

"I need my pills" he stated weakly as Patrick eased him onto the bed. Patrick reached into the front pocket of Enrico's jeans and pulled out the familiar bottle of medication. He unscrewed the cap and took out two pills and put them into his mouth. Enrico swallowed hard, closing his eyes, no longer able to think straight or focus his attention.

"What can I do for you Ric?" Patrick asked pulling up a chair that was sitting in the corner.

Enrico lay quite, unable to speak from the intense pounding in his head,

his stomach still upset, his vision blurry.

"Nothing Patrick" he finally managed. "It’s just the damn nightmares."

Patrick sat silent, waiting so see if Enrico was going to be sick again, but after a couple of minutes he realized from his breathing that he had fallen asleep. He stood up, and moved over to the window.

"I need to know what is going on with you Ric" Patrick thought to himself as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Some way I'm going to find out about your past " he concluded turning to look at Enrico as he lay sleeping on the bed. He bent down and covered him with a blanket, switched off the light and moved out to the living room. Patrick didn't leave that evening, but instead bunked out on the couch deciding that Enrico would not have to always keep his past locked up inside….he would free him from his torment.

Chapter 4

"So you have decided to come and see how the other half lives?" Frank asked as they ascended the steps.
"The way I see it Franco tres is that I need to visit your office once in a while to bring a little Harlem class to this place. "
"Franco tres?" What does that mean?
"Are you not Franklin the third?....you know, you have those funny little I's
after your name?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Well then you are Franklin tres, get it?"
"I get it amigo…no need to explain."
Enrico smiled as they reached the landing, bowing as
Frank went through the door.

"By the way Enrico, just for the record, you don't need to take the
stairs for exercise…. you need to gain about twenty pounds."
Enrico smiled, ignoring his remark. Frank looked over at him as they continued on into the reception area. He admired Enrico and how he had chosen to dedicate his life to helping the people in Harlem. Frank knew that Enrico had the heart and street smarts that it took to make a difference in the lives of families that no one else cared or even thought about.

"See ya later" Frank called as he headed for his office.
"Adios" Enrico waved as he greeted their secretary with a broad smile.
"Como esta senorita?!"
"Hello handsome….how are you?"
"Delores…the only way things could possible get better is if you would
promise me your heart" he flirted, eyes twinkling as he plopped down in
the chair in front of her desk. She immediately noticed the way the rain glistened in his ebony hair as he checked his watch and informed her he needed to see Patrick.
"He's in with a client right now Enrico, but you're welcome to stay out here and keep me company" she winked flirting back.
He flashed what Delores thought was the whitest most heart-stopping smile she had ever witnessed. She secretly wondered if God could possible match the perfection that sat in front of her. His eyes were pools of dark brown with black lashes that nearly grazed his cheekbones when he blinked. His deep dimples made her heart flutter and his long hair always was impeccably combed. Her eyes roamed to the royal blue sweatshirt that he had under a matching blue jacket and then continued down to the faded tight jeans that she had come to admire so much.

"I can't believe no one has snatched you up yet" she quipped crossing her legs, causing her skirt to hike up in the process.
"I'm waiting for you senorita" he confessed, admiring her long legs and
appreciating her gesture of seduction.
"Well, I'm here" she countered, wanting so badly to kiss his full lips just once.
"Yeah, well I have nothing but time" he grinned leaning across the desk and stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. He leaned in so close that she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke, and was sure she felt a shiver go up her spine. Delores moved her face closer to his and he was just about to kiss her lips when the door to Patrick's office suddenly opened and voices could be heard. Delores straightened up quickly and Enrico sat back down in his chair, both acting like kids that just got caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Patrick came out of his office and walked his client to the door, both speaking of the court dates that had been scheduled for the following week. The gentleman looked to be in his late sixties, thick hair silver in color, his brown eyes speckled with gold flecks. He was well dressed in a dark tailored suit and expensive leather shoes. As he shook Patrick's hand his eyes caught Enrico sitting in the chair in front of Delores' desk. He shot a look of disapproval, noticing how he was dressed. "Mr. Conway you should be careful who you allow in your office" he commented as his eyes once again moved in Enrico's direction.

Patrick ignored the comment, trying to stay professional. Enrico on the other hand glanced up just in time to meet his gaze, a cold chill running down his spine. They both glared at each other momentarily as Patrick ushered him towards the elevator. Enrico stood up and waited for Patrick.

"Who was that?" he asked as Patrick returned to the reception area.

"A new and important client" Patrick replied. "C'mon on back" he gestured heading toward his office.

Enrico gave Delores a quick wink and followed Patrick, promising her that he would see her later. Delores turned and watched him from the back as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

"What a butt," she muttered to herself….her thoughts interrupted by the ringing phone on her desk.

Patrick's office was beautifully decorated in earth tones…. mostly tans and beige's which complimented the chocolate brown furnishings. Flourishes of dark gold and soft jade added to the already rich colors of the room, with one entire wall nothing but windows that mirrored Central Park in their reflections. A large Oriental rug in lush colors of beige and various shades of green and ivory lay in the center of the room edged with a sectional couch in rich Italian leather. Carved out in the wall directly in front of the couch was an exquisite oak fireplace, gently crackling, the warm flames dancing inside the brass grate. The other two walls were dotted with various family photos, awards and certificates that Patrick had acquired over the years. Enrico sat down in a plush leather chair while Patrick strode around and took his place behind the enormous maple wood desk that was a family heirloom, once belonging to his grandfather.
"Feeling better I see" he summarized, looking over at his friend.
Embarrassed by the migraine headache that had kept him in bed for most of Sunday, Enrico squirmed uneasily in the chair.

"Much" he mumbled wanting to change the subject.
"You need to see a doctor Enrico."
"We need to move on to a better topic hermano."
"Honestly bro…I don't think I have ever seen you that sick. Do
you even remember me being there Saturday night?"
"Not really, but I'm fine now so let's not talk about it alright?"
"Whatever" he relented…..have it your way…but I'm not going to stop harping until you start taking better care of yourself"

"I have a favor to ask"
"Alright, anything" Patrick replied, leaning back in his chair
"I have a new case I am working on and was wondering if you have access to old police files?"
"Yeah, I have connections. Why?"
"Seems this kid from the ghetto is on the verge of serving some hard time for drug dealing if I can't get to him first. I need a little background on his prior arrests and convictions."
"How old is he?"
"Just turned eighteen, so he could be in real trouble if he gets caught. His mother contacted our office saying that she needed help with him, that he was out of control. Besides dealing drugs, I guess he has been going around threatening his teachers in school and picking fights with the other kids his age. The school finally expelled him permanently a week ago, his senior year too."
"Judas priest Ric, this kid sounds dangerous!"
"They're all dangerous Patrick, but they deserve a chance just the same. If I can reach him and let him know there is help available and that he can still turn it all around with a little hard work…then perhaps it's worth the gamble."
"I don't like it. You could be putting yourself in a precarious situation."
Enrico smiled shaking his head while reaching in his jacket pocket for a cigarette. "You sound like a worried mother" he teased, lighting the end of his smoke. "I bet your mother is a worrier and you come by it naturally, am I not right?"

It was Patrick's turn to feel embarrassed and Enrico delighted in the fact that his face was turning red.
"I'll have you know that my mother is indeed a worrier…and yes…I am one too..but I wasn't until I met you" he chided. "Was your mother a worrier Ric?" he asked casually.
"Nada. She was too stoned and too afraid to worry."
"Why's that?"

"You’re fishing again Patrick. Why do our conversations always end up with you questioning me about my past?"
"Because I care"

"Well don't, it’s that simple. Look, I've got to take off. Will you see what you can do for me? I hear those police computers can spit out information about all sorts of stuff. I just need to know what I'm dealing with here."
"Sure, I'll check it out..…by the way…what's the kid's name??
"Germaine Washington"
"Black?"
"Si, how did you guess?" Enrico asked standing up. "Maybe the name gave it away huh? Sort of like Valdez" he grinned.
Patrick smiled back as he walked around the desk. "Hey are we on for this Saturday? Lisa and her friend Carrie have agreed to give us another shot," he joked.
"Great…are we still going to the club?"
"If you want…I think that's what our previous plans were."
"Sounds good hermano!" Enrico gave Patrick a quick wink and started towards the door but Patrick grabbed a hold of his arm stopping him.
"Let's see the phone bro."
Enrico gave way to a huge sigh..but reached into his jeans pocket just the same and pulled it out. "Happy?" he asked
"Is it turned on?"
"Yes amigo, it is turned on" he confirmed looking at Patrick with a frown. "You missed your calling. You should have been my mother" Enrico complained.
"Well get used to it….someone needs to look after your sorry ass."
Enrico suddenly turned somber as his father’s words spilled out into the conversation, always having been called a "sorry ass" during his growing up years.
"Something wrong?" Patrick asked noticing the sudden change in Enrico's expression.
"No" he lied. "Just have a lot on my mind this morning I guess. Don't forget to check those files for me, Patrick" he reminded.
"I won't. As a matter of fact I'll place the call right away."
"Gracias, see ya later on in the week."
"Take care, and for Christ sakes be careful."
Enrico frowned again as he closed the door behind him, heading for the reception area. He peeked around the corner to see if anyone was around. The only person he spotted was Delores sitting at her desk. He smiled to himself as he walked toward her, being careful not to be heard. He made his way around to the front of her desk, alarming her as she looked up. He suddenly jumped up on her desk…looking directly into her eyes with passion that she was sure she only read about in romance novels.

"What are you doing Enrico?" she asked surprised.
"This" he stated matter-of-factly as he slowly and methodically titled his head toward hers and moved in seductively to place a soft and gentle kiss on her lips. Delores knew at that very moment that she had died and gone to heaven. She had never tasted anything quite as sweet or experienced such gentleness. Enrico was the first to pull away leaving Delores breathless as he smiled that incredible smile and lowered himself off from the desk.

"Until next time senorita" he breathed softly, his eyes dreamy with lust as he left the office and opened the door to the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Chapter 5

Germaine Washington stepped off the bus and walked the short distance to his house on Menlove Avenue. He thumbed through the wad of cash that he had stuffed into his pocket earlier, smiling to himself as he bounded onto the broken down porch and swung open the door, calling out to his mother.

"Hey, mama are you here?" he yelled as he started toward the kitchen.

"Nada, she has left for work" an unfamiliar voice called out from the living room.

Germaine was taken by surprise as he turned to spot a stranger sitting on the sofa nonchalantly chewing gum.

"Who in the hell are you?" he asked, entering the room.

"Well, I ain't your mama!" Enrico acknowledged with a grin.

"Why don't you cut the crap and tell me who the hell you are."

"Enrico Valdez" came the answer as blew a bubble and cracked it loudly.

Germaine towered over Enrico, standing 6' 4" and weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds. He reached out and with one swift movement grabbed Enrico by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

"Hey--take it easy, amigo! You never hit an Hispanic while he's chewing gum, ees bad for the digestive tract!" Enrico explained in a thick Mexican accent as he looked up at Germaine and the grip on his shirt tightened.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time, smart mouth, and then I'm going to break both of your legs" the young boy threatened.

"And the question was?" Enrico asked cracking his gum once again.

Germaine reached out and angrily grabbed Enrico's arm.

"Okay, okay--don't blow a gasket. I told you my name is Enrico Valdez and I'm from Social Services. Your mama called our office. She thought you might be headed for trouble and wanted to see if one of us would talk with you."

"Talk to me about what?" he roared clearly agitated.

"First amigo you must let go of my shirt so I can breathe."

Germaine hesitated for a moment, stepped back and then released his grip.

"Gracias" Enrico smiled, straightening up his shirt.

"I'm going to knock those pretty teeth right out of your mouth if you don't tell me why you're here" Germaine threatened Enrico, glaring down at him.

"Your mama tells me that you have been kicked out of school for starters. Then of course there are the fights and the threats against the school faculty… and the drug dealing" he continued, counting off the accusations on his fingers.

Germaine's face turned crimson as he shoved Enrico into the table at the end of the sofa, knocking off the lamp. For a brief moment Enrico looked up and could see his father hovering over him. He fought to keep his thoughts focused on the present as Germaine reached down and pulled him to his feet.

"What are you gonna do now tough guy?" Enrico taunted. "Hit me...or maybe break my legs? Because the way I see it, the only thing you know how to do is be tough. You certainly aren't bright enough to think with your brain."

Germaine was surprised by his boldness. He had always been able to intimidate anyone that he encountered. Most of his brothers in the ghetto were afraid of him, following his orders on command. He looked at Enrico, studying him momentarily. He felt the intensity of his glare as he seemed so unafraid to speak his mind.

"You got a big mouth, spic!"

"No man--you are the one with the big mouth! I have a brain" Enrico jeered, shoving his forefinger into Germaine's chest. "You're nothing but a punk, a bully who throws his weight around to get what he wants. I'd say by the bulge in your pocket that you made quite a score today, am I not right?" Enrico asked as he shoved his hand into Germaine's jacket pocket, hauling out a roll of bills.

"Stop it, man!" Germaine warned.

"Stop what? You make me sick Germaine. Guys like you give guys like me--who bust their ass to break the mold of the Harlem hood--a bad rep" Enrico accused, tossing the money in Germaine's face. "Call me when you decide to help yourself" he advised, shoving his phone number into the pocket of the young boy's shirt and turning to leave. Just as he reached the door he felt a hand grip at the back of his shirt.

"You bastard!" Germaine fumed. "Who in the hell do you think you are coming in here acting all big and bad?" he demanded as he spun Enrico around like a rag doll and punched him in the stomach.

"What's wrong man…..truth hurt?" Enrico asked breathlessly holding his mid-section and blinking to clear the vision of his father from his eyes. He blinked again...thinking for an instant he could see his mother standing in the doorway, wearing her silly grin and as always failing to come to his aid. Germaine grabbed onto Enrico and pushed him out the door, throwing him down the porch steps head first. He laid in the front yard for a moment, trying to regain his senses.

"Adios, Germaine!" he yelled loudly, wanting to prove to the teen that he was not afraid.

"That went well" he commented out loud as he pulled himself to his feet and started walking shakily toward the bus stop at the end of the block. His attention was diverted momentarily by the ringing cell phone in his pocket. It continued to ring as Enrico lowered himself onto the wooden park bench near the curb. He finally grabbed for the phone, tired of the insistent noise.

"Hello Patrick."

"What's wrong Ric?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because you took so long to answer and you sound out of breath."

"You know, I have a job too hermano..and you are interrupting my work."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at a bus stop"

"What were you doing? What took you so long to answer anyway?"

"I was busy flying off a porch if you must know."

"What?"

Enrico laughed still holding his stomach and hoping the nausea he was feeling would pass. His shoulder felt sore as he reached in his pocket for a cigarette. He tried to work out the kinks as he stood up and looked down the street to see if he could spot the bus coming.

"Let's just say my first encounter with Germaine Washington was a big success."

"How do you figure that when you just told me you’ve been flying off of porches?"

"Well, he could have killed me..because I'm sure that ran through his mind as upset as he was..but instead here I am talking with you."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Naw, just roughed me up a bit..I baited him into it. I think I broke the ice though.

I could tell I was getting to him. By the way, were you able to get the files I asked for?"

"I'm going down to the police station on Monday."

"Monday? Enrico yelled into the phone, "Why so long?"

"Because the officer that I need to connect with in that department is on vacation until then. Calm down--I'll get them for you, don't worry. Seriously, are you okay?"

"I’m fine Patrick and was wondering….hey gotta go hermano, the bus is coming" Enrico said, not finishing his thought. "I'll see you Saturday night around seven-thirty" he assured as he clicked off the phone and boarded the bus.

Saturday evening found the two couples enjoying easy conversation over dinner, followed by dancing and drinks at the Revolution. Patrick had already invited Lisa back to the penthouse, not wanting the evening to end…enjoying her company. Enrico had decided to spend the weekend with Patrick and extended the same invitation, delighted when Carrie accepted.

Patrick unlocked the door and the four of them entered the foyer, laughing at a joke he had just told. Patrick was easy going and bright, his all American good looks and air of confidence seemed to arouse desire in any woman he dated, and Lisa was proving to be no exception.

"How about a nightcap?" he suggested tossing his suit coat on the chair and loosening his tie. All three agreed as he moved over to a small liquor cabinet.

"What would you like darling?" Patrick asked, looking over at Lisa.

"Seven and Seven" she replied, easing up to him and placing her arm around his waist. Lisa was a tall brunette beauty with her own private law practice, and like Patrick came from a very wealthy background. She was more than just interested in……having watched him around the courthouse. She had wanted to date him for months, and was pleased when he had finally asked her out.

"How about you Carrie?" Patrick asked, glancing over at her.

"I'll have the same, thank you" she answered with a smile. Carrie was shorter than Lisa, but just as beautiful. Her strawberry blond hair hung to the middle of her back and she had engaging green eyes and a sweet personality. She had attended Brown University with Lisa and now worked as a stockbroker on Wall Street.

"Here bro" Patrick said, handing a diet coke to Enrico.

"You don't drink?" Carrie asked, having noticed he had been abstaining all night.

"No" he answered, feeling a little self-conscience.

"Why not?" she pushed

"Gets me in too much trouble" he lied.

"I understand" she nodded, mesmerized by his eyes as they bore deep into her own. She thought Enrico was very handsome and charming, but more than that she was attracted to his tenderness. Although he had been quiet throughout most of the evening, there was a mysterious side to him, never knowing for sure what was going through his mind.

After a few more drinks, Patrick and Lisa disappeared into the master bedroom, closing the door behind them. Carrie looked up at Enrico with questioning eyes, blushing slightly as he held her in his gaze.

"Shall we?" he asked, motioning toward the hallway. Carrie nodded and followed him into the guest bedroom, watching as Enrico switched on a small table lamp. He moved toward her, giving her a gentle kiss on the side of her neck as he softly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. She responded with an urgency that surprised him, yet delighted him at the same time—as Carrie almost roughly pulled at his navy sports coat, then unbuttoning his shirt as he unzipped the back of her dress. Enrico's warm kisses were insistent but gentle, longing for her touch. After a few moments he stepped back. His eyes glistening as he watched her finish undressing. She moved to the bed and laid down, pulling back the covers as an invitation to join her. Removing his shirt, his eyes never left her face, and hers appreciating his body as he slid out of his beige slacks, tossing his clothes on a nearby chair…being careful not to turn his back to her. He smiled and moved to join her on the bed, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

"You are beautiful" he whispered as he carefully laid her back onto the crisp white sheets. Enrico took his time and slowly caressed her, wanting to fulfill all her passionate desires. Afterwards…..he made love to her in the slow, sensual way that came most naturally to him. She had never felt such tenderness or experienced such a strong urgency to have someone make love to her as she did at that very moment. He made her feel safe and warm as he pulled her closer. She reveled in the strength of his embrace, an embrace that left her feeling as if she was his first and last love. He placed sweet kisses in all the right places, sending her into total euphoria. His body glistened, leaving her breathless as he placed one last kiss on her lips before easing down beside her. They silently lay in each other's arms, contented to just listen to each other's hearts slowing after beating so wildly. Relishing in the serenity of the room with only the crackling fireplace interrupting the stillness, she quietly turned to face Enrico…but he had drifted off to sleep. She reached over and pushed back a lock of damp hair that had fallen in his face as she gently stroked his chest. Carrie looked into his handsome face…no longer able to hold back as she leaned over him, kissing his lips, aching to feel their softness once more before allowing herself to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Chapter 6

Patrick walked into police headquarters and headed for Sgt. Geleski's office. Knocking on the door, he entered the file room to pick up the information on Germaine Washington that Enrico had requested.

"C'mon in Patrick, good to see you."

How's it going Sarge? How was your vacation?"

"It's going good son, and my vacation was very relaxing" he smiled as he motioned for Patrick to sit down.

Sgt. Geleski had been with the New York Police Department for over thirty years and was looking forward to retirement in the not too distant future. He and Patrick had established a close working relationship over the past few years, one that was built on trust and a mutual respect for each other. Sgt. Geleski had witnessed Patrick's work in the courtroom on several occasions, and was impressed with his ability to represent his clients with a great deal of skill and dedication, yet refusing to compromise his ethics. He knew that Patrick had a bright future ahead of him, and that someday he would be one of the top lawyers in the country.

"Is this the file you wanted?"

Patrick reached across the desk and grabbed the folder, quickly scanning through its contents. "There are some arrests..but no convictions I see."

"Maybe he's just been lucky" Sgt. Geleski suggested, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "Are you representing him Patrick?"

"No, not yet anyway. I'm hoping I never have to."

"Be careful with this one-- according to his arrest records, he sounds like a time bomb ready to go off!"

"That's what I'm afraid of" Patrick replied with a frown.

"Yeah, well..those Harlem kids are a different breed."

"What makes you say that?"

"I've worked a lot of cases over the years, and believe me the worst ones have been from that hell hole of a place. Those kids are born with a strike against them to begin with, most of them raised in an environment of violence and poverty. The worst part is, the cycle never ends. It just passes down from generation to generation."

"Maybe they don't work hard enough to break the cycle" Patrick concluded"

Maybe….either that or they just don't know how to get out and make a better life for themselves. Sad, really. This computer is full of cases that are perfect examples of families torn apart by either drugs, alcohol or violence."

"I can't imagine" Patrick sighed. "We live here in our perfect little world so totally unaware of what some families have to go through just to survive from day to day."

"You're right son" Geleski sighed, drinking in Patrick’s words.

A light bulb suddenly went off in Patrick's head as he leaned forward, looked over at the officer. "Sarge, if I give you a name, could you plug it into the computer and pull the file for me?"

"Depends if it's still in the system--I can check if you like?"

"Would you?"

"I’ll give it the old college try Patrick. Do you know how old the file would be?"

"Not really" Patrick answered honestly feeling uneasy, already having second thoughts about his decision.

"What's the name?" Geleski asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Enrico Santiago Valdez."

Patrick waited patiently while the officer searched for the file.

"Nothing" Sgt. Geleski announced as he continued scrolling down the pages of names. "Let me try one more thing" he suggested. "I'm just going to type in the first and middle name and see what I get that way. When you’ve worked in these files as long as I have..you know all the tricks."

Patrick drummed his fingers on the desk, his nerves fraying as he waited patiently.

"Here’s something Patrick…a first and middle name match. Let me pull the file and see if it's what you are looking for. There’s usually a photo."

Geleski disappeared into the long rows of files…Patrick's guilt heightening as he waited.

"Is this the kid you’re looking for?" the officer asked as he returned and handed over the file to Patrick.

"That’s him" Patrick said as he looked at the mug shot and then placed it inside the large envelope. "Thanks Sarge."

Patrick arrived back at his office around noon. He sat at his desk, the file he requested lying in front of him. He tapped his finger on the folder, wondering what Enrico would think if he knew. After a lot of soul searching, Patrick drew in a deep breath as he opened the file and began to read through the various police reports, afterwards sifting through the photos that had been taken at the scene.

Enrico stepped from the subway, zipping up his coat and shoving his hands in his pockets. The weather had turned cooler as October approached, the leaves showing off their glorious arrays of crimson and gold. He opened the glass door to the office building and took the steps two at a time. As he hurried toward Patrick's office, he checked his watch, hoping that he wasn’t too late. He had told Patrick he would meet with him two hours ago, but had been delayed with a client and all the paperwork that had to be filled out with each new case. Entering the reception area, he noticed with disappointment that Delores's desk was clear and that she had left for the day. He moved on down the hall and entered Patrick's office, calling out his name after seeing his suit jacket still hanging on the coat rack. He checked the private bathroom--nothing. He peered back down the hall but didn’t spot him anywhere. He moved toward the large maple desk and was relieved when his eyes fell on the file for Germaine Washington lying amidst the various contracts and briefs. He started to leave, but on second thought he stopped, deciding he would write Patrick a note of thanks and call him later. He found a pad of sticky notes but no pen, so he carefully opened one of the desk drawers. Finding a pen, Enrico started to close the drawer when he thought he spotted something. He opened it once again and saw it—a large envelope with his name on it. Enrico's heart began to pound against his chest as he pulled it out. With trembling hands he slowly opened the file and started leafing through the police reports, eyeing the attached photos.

"Please don't let this be happening!" he thought to himself as his stomach began to churn.

Hearing a noise, he looked up to see Patrick standing in the doorway. Both men just stood there looking at each other, neither one knowing what to say. Patrick knew by the ashen look on Enrico's face what had happened.

"I came for the file on Germaine" Enrico explained. "I was just going to leave you a note but couldn't find a pen..so I opened the drawer and..." his voice trailed off, not able to continue.

"You found it, right?" Patrick asked knowingly.

"By pure accident--I don't normally go through your desk. I never wanted you to know" Enrico said, looking down.

"I realize that Ric, and I'm sorry. It doesn't change anything between us."

"That's where you're wrong. It changes everything."

Patrick watched as Enrico placed both files on the desk, and then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He laid it down on top of the desk and looked up at Patrick with glistening eyes. "Why? Why did you take this chance Patrick? Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"

"Because I wanted to help you, Enrico--don't you see that?" Patrick explained, turning to close the door.

"I guess I didn’t realize I needed help Patrick--am I really that pathetic?"

"No, just so damn unselfish that you refuse to burden anyone!"

"I had my reasons...but of course you know that now."

"For the last two and half years I have stood by and watched you deal with all this inner turmoil. I have witnessed the headaches, heard the nightmares--and I just wanted to understand."

Enrico moved around to the front of the desk, hesitated for a moment, then walked toward the door. Patrick grabbed at his arm in a futile attempt to save the friendship. "Please don't leave….we need to talk."

"It's too late for that Patrick. All the talking in the world isn’t going to change who I am or what I did. That’s why it was so important for you to never know. I wanted to tell you so many times" he confessed…"but just couldn't. I didn't want to put our friendship in jeopardy or make you live with something that you couldn't handle, much less comprehend. You had to live in all that misery to understand. I couldn't expect that of you--or anyone for that matter."

Patrick's heart ached as he watched the various emotions reflected in Enrico's face, his voice barely above a whisper. He had never meant to hurt him, to cause him further pain, but he knew--because of his decision--that is exactly what he had done. He needed to make Enrico understand why he had gone behind his back.

"Please….give me the opportunity to explain."

Enrico looked at Patrick, having needed this friendship so desperately. He knew for Patrick's sake he had to walk away, make a clean break and leave while he still had a crumb of dignity left. He released himself from Patrick's grip and started to open the door.

"So that's it bro? The first little kink in the friendship and you just walk away without a second thought."

Enrico stopped momentarily…..Patrick realizing he had to talk fast.

"I want to hear the entire story Ric...I want you to tell me in your own words. I deserve that much after all the time I’ve wasted on this so called friendship."

"Wasted?" Enrico spat as he turned around and walked up to Patrick. "Let me tell you something hermano! I never asked for this--you're the one who kept insisting that we get together after work, you're the one who made the visits to my office! You don't see me hanging around the royal palaces of Manhattan begging for your company!"

"Exactly" Patrick agreed. "This friendship was my idea right from the very beginning, so it was something I wanted, something I needed. I think because of our backgrounds, you have always had the misconception that I was doing you a big favor by wanting to spend time together. After all, I was privileged--I could buy or have anything I wanted--so why you?

"I don't want to hear this Patrick" Enrico replied, turning toward the door once again.

Patrick moved swiftly, grabbing Enrico by the back of his jacket, spinning him around. "Fine then….just walk away! I can’t explain the connection we've made...it's just there. We’re not blood brothers Enrico--we are closer than that! So go ahead--walk out that door, but it won't change anything! We’ll still only be a phone call away."

Patrick released his grip, turned and walked over and plopped down on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace. He silently prayed that his words had not fallen on deaf ears as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. He was relieved when he heard the striking of a match and smelled the familiar aroma of tobacco. Enrico finally came over and lowered himself down on the huge oak coffee table directly in front of Patrick. He drew in a deep breath and looked over at him with questioning eyes. Enrico battled within himself, wondering if he actually had the strength it would take to reveal the details of his past to anyone, let alone his best friend. He had kept it bottled up inside for so long that he wasn’t sure he could talk about it after all this time…..but then remembered that Patrick had read the police reports…viewed the photos. Enrico had never felt so exposed as he did at this very moment. He felt such shame that his eyes moved from Patrick to the floor. He had spent so much of his life alone, not sharing thoughts or emotions with anyone, that he wasn't quite sure how to start. He inhaled deeply on his cigarette, hoping to calm his nerves and gather up the courage he needed. Finally he began to speak, his voice barely audible, but filled with emotion just the same.

"My father was Puerto Rican, from a very proud and well-to-do family. When he was young he met my mother, who was Mexican and poor. They fell in love and were married. My grandfather felt very strongly that my father should have married someone with a similar background, similar heritage. He berated my father for the choice he had made, not approving of my mother. But Ramon refused to give in to his demands, wanting to make his own decisions. I guess my grandfather was very controlling…and when my father didn’t relent…he fired him from the family business. As a result, Ramon had to find a job for the first time in his life. He started drinking, trying to forget about his failures--trying to forget his father's disappointment. His drinking led to problems at work as well as at home. He became very bitter, always taking out his frustrations on my mother and me. After awhile he could no longer hold down a job, money ran out and we lived in poverty as a result. Ramon lost all contact with his own family, his security snatched away. I think he realized he had become the failure that my grandfather had predicted."

Enrico paused and shook his head at the memory. "My mother was so frightened of him, I begged her to leave! I assured her that I would find a job and we would manage, but I think she still somehow loved my father and wanted to be by his side despite the man he had become. When Ramon started knocking me around she just turned away, pretending not to see. By the time I was ten or twelve, the drinking was so out of control that he gave up on work altogether and just sat in his chair and lost himself inside that damn whiskey bottle. My mother finally found work in the evenings cleaning at a medical building. I offered to find work, but my father only allowed me to go to school and nowhere else. I think Ramon needed to control something, because he had lost control of everything else in his life. So many times I wanted to leave but just couldn't, knowing that I would have to leave my mother behind. In the meantime my mother had found her own escape. Serefina would come home every evening totally stoned. She was stealing drugs from the doctor’s offices where she worked, using them to try to forget all the misery around her. They made a wonderful pair, those two!"

Enrico crushed out his cigarette and immediately lit another one. He leaned forward, looking down at his shoes and then back up at Patrick, rubbing at the stiffness in his neck, knowing full well that this would bring on a migraine. He reached into his jeans pocket and took out two pills and placed them in his mouth, trying to ward off the inevitable.

"How bad were the beatings Ric?" Patrick asked with a new seriousness in his voice. Enrico sighed and took another drag off his cigarette, his hands trembling from the flood of memories.

"The beatings became horrendous as I grew older. I'm not sure why. I never had friends, never participated in any school activities and never left the house once I came home in the afternoon. I became Ramon's prisoner. On the weekends I was locked in a closet or in my bedroom. The bedroom wasn't so bad because I could spend hours reading my school books and doing my homework--but the closet was another matter altogether. I became so damn claustrophobic sitting in that dark box for hours at a time. I used to put my head down on my knees and make up poetry in my mind to keep from going insane. To this day I can’t ride on an elevator or be in a small room for too long with the door closed. Same with water--it took me so long to be able to swim or even be near the ocean. If I did something he didn't approve of or just answered a question in the wrong tone of voice, he would fill up the sink with water and hold my head under until I thought I was going to drown. Then he would let me up long enough to gasp for air, and then back down I'd go--he would repeat that action over and over again."

"Couldn't you fight back?" Patrick asked.

"I tried sometimes.. but I was just so damn afraid of becoming like him Patrick--besides he was bigger and stronger than I was. If he thought that I was besting him, he would get so angry that he would beat me until I relented, then tie my hands and ankles, leaving me defenseless. Most of the time spent in the closet was with my feet and hands bound. He would throw me across the room and then take off his belt and just hit me over and over again on my back. He was just out of control. I can't even remember most of the beatings anymore. I think I’ve blocked them out as sort of a safeguard. They only come back in nightmares or flashes now.

"Why didn't your mother try and stop him?"

Enrico laughed to himself as he continued. "Serefina would just stand there stoned out of her mind with this crazy little smile on her face. She didn't know what was going on half of the time. She became so damn drug dependent that she would hallucinate and scream and carry on. My father would sit in his chair and just laugh his ass off at her. Everyday was worse then the one before. I tried to hold on Patrick, but something inside of me snapped. I walked away from school one afternoon and never looked back. I finally came to the realization that my mother must have liked living that kind of life or else she would have left years before. As for myself, I couldn't take one more beating or one more visit to that damn closet. I lived on the streets for awhile or in shelters. I found work washing dishes, sweeping floors, loading trucks, whatever was available. After I left I knew the only way to break out and not become my father's son was to complete my education. I knew my parents were too wasted to ever come looking for me…besides they were probably relieved when I didn't come home. Once I finished high school I went on to college, not a four year college like I had dreamed of, but a small community college. Thank God for student loans. Without them I would have never been able to realize my dream. After I received my degree… I returned home for the final time. I thought that if I told Ramon that I had a job and was willing to help him out financially, that he might seek counseling for himself and my mother. Good or bad Patrick, they were my parents..bottom line. Besides, I had this crazy notion that they might actually love me if I went back and told them that I had a decent job and was now able to help them get back on their feet. But as it turns out…I was only fooling myself."

Enrico stood up and moved to the window overlooking Central Park. Patrick got up and stood beside him, wishing he could have been his friend back then. Maybe it would have made a difference.

"It was Christmas day" Enrico continued. "I had been away for a long time…and as a result, was feeling lonely and wanted to go home and be with family. I felt a lot of guilt leaving them like that. I know that sounds so ridiculous..but that’s just how I’m made Patrick--ever the fool, always thinking I can make a difference. His voice was beginning to falter as the memories rushed back into his head.

"When I walked into the house my father was sitting at the dining room table cleaning this revolver he had. He was drunk as usual, hadn't shaved in a month or more, let alone bathed. My mother was standing in at the sink doing dishes, not even turning around when I came in. As usual, there was no Christmas tree or decorations in sight. I sat across from him at the table and told him about my new job and that I was willing to help him in any way that I could. My mother must have been listening, because when I looked up…she was standing in the doorway with a smile on her face, and a little bit of hope in those beautiful eyes. She was a beautiful woman Patrick" Enrico acknowledged with tears glistening in his eyes. "She had long black hair, golden skin and the most expressive eyes I have ever seen."

Patrick swallowed hard, trying to ward off his own emotions as Enrico went on.

"Ramon just sat there not saying anything at first and then he suddenly reached across the table and grabbed me by the front of the shirt and cocked that damn pistol and put it up to my temple. He told me if I even breathed he would blow my brains out. I'll never forget the rage on his face….it was if I had taken away the last crumb of manhood that he had left. Ramon got up and walked around the table, never once moving the gun. Then he suddenly tossed the gun back on the table and with every bit of strength he possessed…he pulled me to my feet and threw me into the adjoining wall. He came at me and just started hitting me and kicking me. I tried to get to my feet but he was outraged. I wanted to tear into him and just beat the hell out of him, but knew if I did I would end up just like him. He then grabbed my head and kept pounding it into the wall until I was barely conscious. I tried to get up but just couldn't, as he stood over me laughing, having won whatever sick game he was playing. Sure that I was no longer a threat…he turned and walked out to the kitchen and started to make out with my mother. She was angry at him for not accepting my offer and pushed him away. Ramon hated rejection in the worst way. He backhanded her across the mouth and she fell against the counter. That's when it happened. She reached behind her and grabbed a butcher knife and stabbed him in the shoulder. He was stunned for a moment but then turned into a madman. Screaming obscenities, he reached over and grabbed the knife from her hand and just began stabbing her over and over again. By this time I had managed to get to my feet and started toward him, but he turned around and charged at me with that bloody knife. He ended up stabbing me in the arm and then threw me backwards into the dining room, causing me to fall into the table. Panicked, I spotted the gun and grabbed it, yelling for him to stop. When he kept coming toward me, I yelled out another warning but he just ignored me and that's when it happened Patrick-- I unloaded all six bullets into his chest. I'll never forget the look on his face as each bullet made contact. All the anger that I had kept bottled up inside me for all those years came pouring out at the end of that pistol!"

Enrico turned toward Patrick. "I'm sorry hermano--I sorry that I’m not the person you thought" he said calmly…too calmly. Patrick turned to him and placed his hand on his arm…letting their friendship blanket them in comfort.

"I never meant to kill him Patrick--I only went to help" Enrico tried to explain as he stepped back and ran his hand over his face, denying his emotions, just as he had been taught. He pulled out another cigarette, ignoring the pounding in his head.

"I know that Enrico--it wasn’t your fault for christ sakes!"

"It was my fault! Do you know what it's like to have to live with the fact that you murdered your own father? It's hell, hermano. I have trouble sleeping because of the nightmares. I have flashbacks all the time... and let’s not forget these damn headaches."

Enrico walked over and sat down on the couch. He rested his head back, trying to feel some relief from the migraine that was now raging inside his head. He swallowed, not wanting to vomit, his nerves raw.

"We’ll finish this conversation another time" Patrick said as he drew near. "This is enough for tonight. Just know that this changes nothing between us, that I understand completely why you shot the son-of-a-bitch. He deserved every damn bullet and then some."

"No, I'm going to finish the story hermano--is this not what you wanted?"

Patrick felt a twinge of guilt as he sat down and looked over at Enrico.

"I'm sorry Ric, I had no idea how bad it really was or else I would have never pushed so hard."

"Liar!" Enrico said with a sad laugh.

"You know me too well, amigo!"

"I know you better than you know yourself" Enrico claimed as he closed his eyes, no longer able to take the glare of the lights.

"And I you" Patrick countered as he got up, walked across the room and pushed in the wall switch, darkening the room. The fireplace continued to crackle, sending a warm glow showering over the office. Patrick sat in silence for a few moments thinking that the medication had taken over and Enrico had fallen asleep. But then he started talking once again.

"I stood in the dining room unable to move. There was blood everywhere--on the floor, on the walls, on my clothes. I went over to my mother. She was lying on the floor, gasping, trying so damn hard to breathe. I tried to speak to her but she was unable to answer me. I was so panicked that it took me a moment to realize that I should call someone for help. Just as I reached for the phone I could hear sirens screaming in the distance. The neighbors must have heard the shots and called the authorities. The police stormed the house with their guns drawn. They hauled my ass off to jail in handcuffs, as I screamed at them to help Serefina. I knew my life was over as they threw me into the back of that police cruiser…. and despite all the education in the world I had indeed become my father's son."

"How did you finally get released from jail?"

"They pronounced Ramon dead at the scene… but my mother was still alive. Her injuries were severe but she managed to tell the police just what had happened. She told them that I shot him in self-defense and that she had witnessed it all. They released me from jail the next morning, and I went to the hospital and sat by her side for the next two days. I held her hand and talked to her, and told her how grateful I was that she had come to my defense. I read from the Bible and tried to comfort her the best that I could. She seemed so young and fragile lying in that hospital room. Finally on the morning of the third day she went to be with the Virgin of Guadeloupe. I walked away from the hospital still wearing the bloody clothes that I had worn on Christmas day. I threw myself into my work, trying to forget. But I can never forget--I can only get up each day and try to live with the realization of what I have become."

Enrico lifted his head, despite the pain. His eyes filled momentarily with emotion, but he drew in a deep breath, taking control. He looked over at Patrick and then rested his head back down on the leather sofa. "About a year later is when I met you, and as they say, the rest is history."

"I want you to come home with me tonight Enrico."

"Why?"

"Because you're not feeling well and it’s too far to ride the subway in your condition. As you know, I'm only a few blocks from here and it won't take us long."

"Let’s go then" Enrico relented, trying to stand up. Patrick grabbed his suit coat from the rack, locked the files in his desk and picked up the cell phone. He held onto Enrico to try and steady his movements as they left the office. By the time they reached Patrick's car Enrico was hardly able to walk from the dizziness he was experiencing due to the migraine. Twenty minutes later they entered Patrick's penthouse and Enrico headed straight for the guest bedroom, hurrying into the bathroom. He closed the door and Patrick could hear the usual vomiting that followed during one of these bouts. When he finally opened the door, Patrick was standing there… ready to help him into bed. Enrico waited as Patrick turned down the blankets and helped him sit on the edge of the bed. Enrico reached into his pocket, pulled out two more tablets from the bottle of medication and popped them in his mouth. Slipping out of his shoes, he slowly laid down, closing his eyes, but not closing out the memories that haunted his mind. Turning on his side, he listened for Patrick to switch off the light and leave the room….falling into a restless sleep.

Patrick quietly left, being sure not to close the door, never wanting Enrico to feel the terror of that closet ever again. He made his way out to the kitchen and reached inside the refrigerator for a beer. Patrick knew how fortunate he was to be a part of such a loving and caring family, pledging to never again take their love for granted. He took a few more sips and then unbuttoned his shirt as he headed for his own bedroom, exhausted both physically as well as emotionally.

Enrico spent the next few weeks working long hours trying to make headway with Germaine Washington. The files that Patrick was able to obtain had not been as much help as he had hoped. Enrico had been right about breaking the ice at their first encounter. He had waited patiently for the phone call, wanting the young teen to make the first move. Enrico had reached out and now it was up to Germaine to accept his help. His instincts had been right as usual when the he started calling and then coming around in the afternoons to visit Enrico at his office. They spent hours talking with each other, mostly Germaine doing the talking and Enrico doing what he does best, being the ever-patient listener. Enrico could relate to his pain and understood his frustration with the streets and all their temptations. Germaine would show up when he was straight and other times when he was stoned out of his mind. Enrico chose not to fill him with advice, but instead tried to let him work it out inside himself, wanting him to find the answers necessary to turn his life around. Trust was the main ingredient in their relationship, the most important ingredient as far as Enrico was concerned. He knew he had a lot of hard work ahead of him to bring Germaine to the realization that drugs were only a hindrance and not an answer.

It was the 23^rd of December and the streets were busy with holiday shoppers as Enrico crossed the busy street and walked into Max's diner. He sat down at the counter as usual, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them from the cold winter air. Marge came through the kitchen door and looked up at him, then continued pouring coffee for her other customers. She finally made her way down to where he was sitting and filled a mug that she had just placed in front of him.

"What can I get for you this morning?" she asked blandly.

"You can give me a smile to start with" Enrico tried

"Sorry kid, I'm not in a smiling mood."

"Why not?"

"Guess I'm just having trouble getting into the holiday spirit" she confessed as she cleared away the dishes from the counter next to Enrico.

"Why is that senora….do you not have family?"

"No, it's not that..I have a wonderful family."

"Then what?" Enrico insisted.

"Sweetie, you don't want to hear this old lady's problems" she exclaimed as she started to move away. He reached across the bar and gently touched her arm.

"You’re wrong.…after all I’m an excellent listener" he boosted with a smile. She turned back to him, grateful for his concern.

"You're going to laugh when I tell you" she blushed slightly as she slid an ashtray in front of him. He reached into his jeans pocket and hauled out his pack of smokes.

"I would never do that" he assured as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

She hesitated momentarily, drew in a deep breath and looked up to meet his steady gaze. She could feel his eyes wrapping around her as they held her intently, never moving from her face.

"You see dear boy" she began…."I had an actual date this evening with a gentleman who promised to take me to dinner and then dancing afterwards. So like the old fool that I am…I went out and bought a new dress with matching shoes, made an appointment to have my hair all fixed up and my nails done. You know..the whole nine yards. Then he called a little while ago and cancelled. Said he had a family emergency and wouldn't be able to make it." She sighed again as she nodded her head and sat the coffeepot back into the holder on the adjacent counter. "I'm sure he just had a better offer with someone a whole lot younger."

"Maybe not Marge, maybe he really did have an emergency."

"Maybe" she said sadly as she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out her order pad. "Enough of this talk" she said brightly trying to break the mood. "What can I get for you this morning Enrico?"

"Nothing this morning, the coffee is fine…but there is something you could do for me" he pondered thoughtfully, his eyes shining as an idea formulated in head.

"And what’s that" she asked looking back at him.

"How would you like to still go out to dinner tonight, and then dancing later?"

"Yeah and who am I going to go with kid, Santa?" she asked teasing him but with disappointment edging her voice.

"Me!" he announced with a huge dimpled smile covering his face.

"You?" she gasped.

"Si, after all I am a handsome caballero am I not?" he asked jokingly as he tried to persuade her. "I speak two languages, I’m a great conversationalist and can dance divinely my dear" he elaborated in a thick Mexican accent.

"You are too charming for your own good" she warned squeezing his hand.

"I won’t take no for an answer senora, after all us Hispanic’s have great pride."

She hesitated momentarily, rolling the idea around in her head.

"C'mon Marge…please…do it for me" he urged, giving her one of his heart stopping smiles. "Keep those appointments and we'll dance the night away."

"What will people say…an old lady like me going out with a young boy like yourself?" she asked.

"Who cares? But if they do, l will proudly tell them that you’re my date for the evening" he offered still trying to convince her. "Besides I’m not concerned with others thoughts, only your own."

Her face suddenly softened and the sadness was replaced with a smile, the familiar sparkle returning to her soft blue eyes.

"Then you'll go?" he asked hopefully.

"Alright" she relented. "If you’re game than so am I."

"I promise that I will be the perfect gentleman" he grinned as he zipped up his jacket and gulped down his coffee.

"Hell boy…that's no fun" she teased, causing Enrico to nearly choke.

"You are so bad" he winked as he grabbed his cigarettes off the bar. "I have to go. I'll pick you up around seven-thirty. I hope you don't mind walking..because I don't own a car."

"Let's meet here" she offered excitedly and we can take the subway downtown."

"Sounds like a plan" he grinned, waving to her as he hurried out the door.

At seven thirty sharp Enrico arrived back at Max's diner as promised. He banged on the door as he peered through the glass. Marge came from the back of the restaurant and quickly released the lock. Enrico entered and gave a low whistle as he looked at her admiringly.

"Do you like?" she asked excitedly, as she twirled around in front of him, thrilled with his reaction.

You are very beautiful senora" he complimented.

Marge was wearing a dark blue dress with matching shoes as she had mentioned earlier that morning. Her red hair was styled in her usual French twist with the same diamond barrette in the back. She had toned down her makeup for the evening and her nails were painted in a soft coral to match the color of her cheeks.

"These are for you" Enrico explained producing a small bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my" she gasped. "I haven't had flowers given to me by such a handsome man like yourself since I was a young girl" Marge remarked with a hint of tears in her eyes. "Thank you so much Enrico …their lovely."

It was now Marge's turn to step back and give Enrico the once over as he stood in front of her. He wore a pair of black slacks, a white dress shirt with a black and red stripped tie. His black sports coat fit perfectly, enhancing his broad shoulders. His long ebony hair glistened under the restaurant lights and his large brown eyes twinkled as he looked at her smiling.

"You don't clean up so bad yourself" she complimented as she reached for her coat. He was indeed a sight to behold, and she thought how proud she would be of him if he were her son. For a fleeting moment she envied his parents, hoping they were aware of the fine young man he had become.

"Shall we?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts and helping her on with her coat. He then offered her his arm as they switched off the lights and headed for the subway that would take them downtown.

Enrico and Marge opted for a small supper club where they dined and then later danced. The orchestra had just finished playing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" as he took her by the arm and lead her off the dance floor. He held her chair while motioning to the waiter, quickly whispering in his ear and then sat down across from Marge.

"Are you enjoying yourself ?" he asked hoping that her sadness had vanished.

"Enrico, this has been such a special night for me" she assured him beaming. "I haven't dance this much in years. And you’re right…you dance divinely young man."

He smiled back at her as the waiter approached their table. "For you madam" the waiter commented as he placed a goblet of champagne in front of Marge. He then sat a glass of club soda with a twist of lime down for Enrico.

"You're not joining me? Marge asked a little disappointed.

"Of course" he assured as he lifted his glass to toast. "Here is hoping your Christmas is filled with much happiness and joy" he proposed, speaking softly as their glassed touched.

"Tell me something Enrico" she requested sipping her drink.

"Anything" he assured as he relaxed back in his chair.

"Is your father as charming as you?"

"Of course, it is the Valdez way."

"Than you have learned well" she complimented.

"Si, I have" he acknowledged expressionless.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"Nada, I am an only child" he answered, beginning to feel uneasy.

"And you have your mother's beautiful eyes I bet!"

"Why Marge…who is being the charming one now?" he teased, taking a drink of his club soda.

"And you?" he asked avoiding the question and trying to change the subject. "Do you have children?"

"I have two daughters. My Jennifer, who is the eldest lives right here in New York City. She is married and has two lovely children. Jacob is nine and Christopher is five…. they are such wonderful boys" Marge smiled thoughtfully. "I love being a grandmother Enrico. I have the pleasure of spoiling them and then sending them home afterwards. It is the best of both worlds."

Enrico hung on her words as she continued, admiring her love for family.

"Susan is the youngest, married, but no children as of yet. She lives in North Dakota with her husband Mark. My husband died when they were very young, so I have been alone for a long time now."

"You never had the desire to remarry senora?"

"Never could find anyone as good as my Francis I guess" she sighed thoughtfully.

"Do you have someone special in your life Enrico?"

"Me?" he said pointing as his chest with a grin. " No….my work keeps me much too busy."

"When you're not working Marge, what do you like to do to fill your time?" Enrico asked truly interested.

"I love to read" she exclaimed. "I know… just what you would expect from a woman my age huh?"

"Not at all….I love books myself."

"What is your favorite book? she asked, enjoying their conversation.

He blushed slightly as he moved forward cupping his chin in his hand.

"I have a Bible that was my grandmother's, and it’s all written in Spanish. My mother gave it to me as a gift when I was younger. It’s very special to me. I read different verses each night…. I find it to be very comforting." He moved uneasily in his chair having revealed so much. He looked up at Marge and suddenly started grinning.

"What?" she asked, noticing his expression.

"I think I just ruined my reputation…you know..my Latin charm and all."

"You can't fool me young man. I know your kind…love em and leave em Valdez. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me" she assured looking

over at him with admiration.

"What makes you stay in Harlem Enrico? You're young and strong and could easily find a better life for yourself."

Enrico looked over at Marge, pondering her question. He reached into

his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He held it up waiting for her

approval. She nodded with a smile knowing that he had abstained all

evening.

"My work is very important to me Marge. I want to make a difference. I

want those families to realize that there is a better life beyond what they know."

"I understand that, and your social work is very important to the community … but listen to me dear." She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. "There is a better life waiting out there for you as well."

"Probably " he admitted as he inhaled deeply on his cigarette, pulling back his hand. "Maybe for me living in Harlem is sort of a comfort zone. It is all I have ever known. I don't believe I fit anywhere else to be truthful." He looked down at the table as he used the tip of his cigarette to play with the discarded ashes in the ash tray.

"It does take nerve to try new things" she challenged with a mischievous smile.

"You sound like Patrick now" he countered. "I know reverse psychology when I hear it."

She smiled over at him, taking another sip of her champagne. "Well you should listen to him then, because your friend knows what he's talking about."

"Have you been plotting with Patrick behind my back?"

"Maybe" she admitted. "He always stops in at the diner whenever he’s trying to track your butt down. We have had some very interesting conversations I must say" she chided as she studied him carefully.

"I can take one of you at a time Marge, but not in stereo" he admitted crushing out his cigarette.

"Well, Patrick and I feel you need someone to watch over you while you’re so busy helping all those kids down in the ghetto."

"You two will just have to find someone else to coddle. I am very

capable of taking care of myself…I’ve been doing it for years now. But just for the record bonita…when I can no longer make a difference I will consider leaving."

Marge smiled over at Enrico, and yet noted the seriousness in his tone of voice. "Okay, but just know that you’ve been warned. Patrick and I make a great team…you don't stand a chance."

"I believe you" he assured as a smile returned to his face, forcing himself to relax and brush off the tenseness he was beginning to feel.

"I don't know about you Enrico, but this old lady is ready to call it an evening" Marge announced as she tried to squelch a yawn.

"As you wish senora" Enrico acknowledged as he finished his drink and

stood up to help Marge with her coat.

Marge and Enrico made their way down the slushy sidewalk as they headed for the subway. It was nearly midnight as they hurried along the city streets, shivering from the cold. The snow gently fell from the sky as Enrico placed his arm around Marge to steady her gate, not wanting her to slip on any icy patches. Forty-five minutes later they stepped off the subway. Enrico insisted on walking her to her home, making sure she arrived safely despite all her objections. As they reached her apartment building she fumbled in her purse. Finding her keys, she unlocked the door and then turned around to face Enrico.

"I want to thank you young man for such a wonderful and entertaining evening. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a very long time."

She suddenly reached out and caught him up in a warm embrace, pulling him close to her. She was surprised when he tried to pull away instead of accepting the gesture of affection. Not relenting..Marge held onto him even tighter, insisting on the embrace as a means of thanking him. She smiled to herself as she felt him give in and relax.. the tenseness leaving momentarily. Enrico closed his eyes and felt such emotion that he had to swallow hard to keep his tears at bay. He could not remember feeling such warmth and tenderness. He longed to be loved so badly that his heart ached with desire. Embarrassed, he quickly pulled away and hold her at arms length.

"Have a wonderful Christmas with your family senora" he said as the twinkle in his eyes had been suddenly replaced with such sadness that she felt a twinge of concern.

"You do the same Enrico" she replied reaching up and stroking his cheek with her thumb. Stepping just inside her apartment door, she turned and watched as he walked away and disappeared into the darkness.

Slipping out of his sports coat and loosening his tie, Enrico shivered from the cold air as he finished undressing. He climbed in between the sheets and laid in the silence of his apartment. He glimpsed toward the window to catch the moonlight streaming through the glass. He wondered if every Christmas would be this lonely, this empty. He reached for the Bible on his nightstand and drew it to his heart. It was the only possession that he owned that provided him with comfort. He had walked away from his home three years ago with no pictures, no memories of the family that he had once been a part of. He jumped as his cell phone suddenly started ringing. He reached over to the nightstand and picked it up, fumbling for the button in the darkness.

"Hello Patrick"

"Hi bro…what's going on?"

"Nothing….and you?"

"Just got home from a date with Lisa"

"How did that go?"

"What do you think?" he asked boastfully. "I borrowed some of your Latin charm tonight…swept her off her feet."

Enrico laughed at his confidence. "So is this something serious?"

"I don't know, I'm not really looking for a relationship right now."

"Yeah, I know what you mean…nothing I would consider"

"Never?"

"Probably not"

"Why not Ric?"

"Please, not tonight Patrick"

"Okay, besides I called for a reason….I wanted to ask you something."

"I'm listening" Enrico replied, trying not to let the depression he was feeling come through in his voice.

"I want you to come and spend the Christmas holidays with my family."

"Are your parents back from Europe?"

"Remember…..they’ve been back for a couple weeks now."

"Lo siento, I must have forgotten."

"I'm leaving for the beach house tomorrow. The folks have decided that they would like to spend Christmas in the Hamptons this year instead of in the city. I guess mother has outdone herself with the decorations, and has more food prepared than an army could eat. What do you say?"

"I appreciate the offer Patrick. Give your parents my best."

"Then you're declining my invitation?" Patrick asked with disappointment edging his words.

"You knew I would Patrick." There was silence for a brief moment.

"Have a wonderful Christmas hermano and don’t worry…I’m fine."

"I don't want you to spend Christmas all alone."

"Patrick, please….we never celebrated any of the holidays…it is no big deal. You know that old saying….you never miss what you’ve never had. Well, it’s true so please quit worrying."

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?"

"Absolutely"

"Someday the pain you're feeling inside will ease and you can finally get on with your own life."

Enrico laughed slightly at Patrick's remark. "I know hermano. And when that time comes we’ll celebrate together. Until then you enjoy your family and your holiday. Call me when you get back."

With that said, Enrico released the button on the phone, ending the conversation.