***
Iremained by his bedside in the minutes after he'd passed. The monitors he washooked up to ran in a low, monotonous beep that I’d fallen deaf to the secondhe’d left. The on-duty nurse hurried in, asking me what had happened, and Itold her the truth.
Hehad fallen asleep and died.
Shesighed sorrowfully and nodded, saying she would get the doctor, as she walkedout of the room. There was no need to hurry; the man was dead.
Ihad been answering Vinnie's texts all night. Giving him regular updates andreassurances that he was still alive. But now, I didn't know what to say, andso, I said nothing. I couldn't tell him his father had passed away throughtext, and even a phone call felt too impersonal. So, I continued to wait therein the room, until the Marino siblings’ loud voices filled the hallway.
“Itwas the scariest thing,” I heard Jenna say. “We were just watchin'BreakingBadlike it was just a normal Sunday, and then, he just went limp. Ithought he was already dead.”
“Thisis why you're not a doctor,” Zach chided.
“Oh,don't act like you wouldn't have been scared shitless, Zachary,” she firedback. “I've never been so—oh, my God.”
Thetrio turned the corner into the room, hurrying faster with every step they tooktoward their father's bedside. Vincent was gone, and so was their mother, butthey grabbed his hands and held his face, calling his name. Calling him back.
“Pops,Pops,” Zach repeated, clapping a hand to his father's cheek. Then, he turned tome. “Andy! Get the doctor!”
Iwent to Vinnie, standing at the foot of the bed. I slipped my hand into his andsqueezed, noting that his fingers never wrapped around mine.
“Guys,he's—”
“No,”Jenna said, shaking her head as she gripped the fingers of her father'slifeless hand. “I was gone for a half hour. That wasn't a long time. He saidhe'd be here when I got back. He said he'd be here. Daddy ... yousaidyou'd be here!” Her voice cracked in her throat as she brought his hand to herlips, kissing his knuckles. “Oh, goddammit.”
“I'msorry,” I said, my voice strangled by my own emotion.
Iheld firm to Vinnie's unmoving hand while Zach took one, two big steps awayfrom the bed, thrusting his hands into his hair and gripping tight, beforehurrying around to Jenna's side of the bed. He caught her in his arms beforeshe fell apart, sobbing against his chest as he sobbed into her hair. I chokedback the tears as the doctor came in to definitively pronounce him dead. Heasked the Marinos if they'd like a minute to say goodbye, and while Zach andJenna said yes, Vinnie remained silent. Emotionless. Still as stone.
AndI worried that I wouldn't be able to keep my promise to Vincent.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
VINNIE
Standingat the front of the funeral parlor, I shook the hands of sympathetic friendsand family members that I couldn’t remember ever meeting before in my life.They forcefully offered their condolences and shared their stories about myfather. As if I cared to hear them. As if I needed it. As if, somehow, in theirconvoluted minds, that would make everything better.
Butit didn’t.
Itfelt wrong; everything did. This—Pops being dead, and me being at his wake,standing in front of his open casket—all felt wrong. Living, breathing, eating,just carrying on feltwrong, and I was slowly starting to sink. Drowningin the harrowing seconds that continued to pass since he had died.
Ididn’t know what to do without him.
So,I did nothing.
“Iremember your father bringing a dozen pizzas down to the station after 9/11,”Jason, a retired NYPD officer, said. “He was always supportive, always therefor the community. This city won't be the same without him.”
Inodded, keeping the painful smile plastered to my face. “He was a great guy.”
“Hereally was. I'm just so sorry for your loss, man. If you need anything, you letus know, all right? We got your back.”
“Thanksa lot. I appreciate it.”
Ishook his hand and he moved along, offering a hug to my red-eyed sister. Zachstood on the other side of me, engaging in emotional conversation, and I beganto wonder if maybe I should've mustered up a few tears.
“Hey,”Andy said, squeezing my hand. I peeled my eyes away from Jason and my sister tolook at my girlfriend, and she asked, “How are you holding up?”
Ishrugged, trying to buy some time to decide what was appropriate to say.“Hangin' in there, I guess.”
