Page 114 of Grace

I cleared my throat, swallowing the sadness of the tale. “I’m sure her family was happy to have her back. To support her.”

Jas shook his head. “Frankie was an orphan. She never knew her parents. Always been on her own…until me.” My eyes shot wide in confusion and shock. “Yeah. She opened up a tea shop—in fuckin’ Harlem where Black folks ruled. But she got patrons here and there. Of course, it was never booming in business, even with adding food and spirits. Some days business would be so dead, she’d sit outside and read the paper.

“Her spot was where my pops would pick me up from when I’d go visit him in Jersey. I’d stand out there and wait for him to pull up. For years, Frankie would see me out there, sometimes through the window, but we ain’t never speak. She would see how my father would pull up and always have some negative shit to say about me…my moms. It was clear to her I hated going to see that man. One day, she brought some tea out. This tiny ass white lady with big glasses brought my damn thirteen-year-old Black ass out some tea.”

I laughed so hard at the visual. Jas chuckled, too, shaking his head. “But what she said after handing over the tea blew my mind.”

“What did she say?”

“She said I could leave the book bag filled with guns and cash at her restaurant until I was done with my pops in Jersey.”

“What?”

Jas nodded, expressing understanding for my stunned reaction. “My mind was blown. All those years of seeing the midget out there, I never considered she had been paying attention to the conversations I had with my boys when they’d walk me to my pops’ ‘pick up’ spot. Didn’t know I’d been talking loud enough on my cell when she was around. I didn’t realize she’d seen my exchanges with my mom when I’d run into her out there in passing or she’d walk me there, begging for money to last her until I got back.”

“What did you do?”

“I left it with her.”

I gasped. “You didn’t even know her! What if she was law enforcement? She could have stolen it all from you.”

“If she was police then the drop would’ve happened then rather than when I got over the bridge and my pops found it. A few months before, he found a wad of cash and went berserk, telling me the next time he’d call the cops. So, I knew if he’d found this, he would have acted on his word.”Damn… “And her stealing from me was never a fear. When I handed the bag over, I promised her that if she stole a single bill or gat from me, I would find her. Then I would take her in the basement of my projects and let the crackheads run a train on her until she passed out. Then I’d bring her back to her tea shop and gut her alive.”

That was the most vile—savage—threat I’d ever heard. And there was the flash of darkness in Jas’ eyes I’d sensed before. Nervous, I snorted. “She knew your young ass was just talking shit.”

Jas’ head shook with sober assurance. “Frankie was Harlem, Shi. I was a peon only to my pops. On the streets, I was a little ass terror. She knew I meant and could carry out every word. I knew I meant what I said, but later I learned she knew those words were like vows when they left my mouth. The old lady had a pulse on the whole city. Remember, Frankie’s with the shits. I came back for my stash and she handed it over intact. That was the first of many times she served as my bank. The relationship grew from there. Frankie never had another love after her husband and she never had kids. I could only fulfill one of those roles. She took me in from that day on. She even helped my mother get into rehabilitation programs over the years. She’s like my third leg or arm. I couldn’t have been this successful without her loyalty.”

I pulled in a deep breath, trying to stew on this overwhelming information. But it made sense to me: the house being in her name, likely his vehicles, too.

“IsRizzo’s Custom Homes & Developersin Frankie’s name, too?”

“Nah. Up until recently, it was in Frankie’s name. But it’s now all me. I had to start legitimizing myself. Can’t stay a John Doe forever.”

“She’s like your administrative assistant, Frankie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she takes care of your affairs, from your assets to your transactions.” My eyes gestured the room. “Like she booked these accommodations for you.”

“Nah. Ava did all of this.”

Ava?“The apprentice?” When he affirmed with a nod, I masked my irrational jealousy by going back to the photo album. Then I recalled, in all of my fury yesterday, Jas did mention that awful detail. I’d already demonstrated the green-eyed monster once this morning. No need for another.

The last series of pictures were of Jas in prison. In them, I saw his body transform from tall and stalky to tree-height hulking to lanky and reasonably robust, just as he was now.

“You were huge,” I commented, hoping to mask the sadness I felt seeing him in varied prison uniforms.

“There’s not much else to do in there.”

I licked my lips and swallowed. “Here’s the picture Charmagne has up in her apartment. You are bigger now than then.”

He nodded. “I guess I had to get naked to prove it to you.”

I giggled. “You did.”

Jas reached for me. “You’re laughing, but I can see something’s bothering you.”

I tried shaking my head, dismissing my silliness. “This is the end of the photo album.”

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