SIX

Problems...

They often attack us when we least expect them and often cripple us to the point of being driven to wanting to end it all. Whilst others are driven to find solace in other alternatives that often ruin many lives. 

After telling Donovan we had to cut our time short, he understood making me promise to call when we got back to my place safe. 

So far Marcie and I were situated in my living room. She chose to make herself comfortable on my floor whilst I sat next to her with snacks littering the table. We had been binge watching some classic early 2000's movies like "The Notebook" which will always make me turn into a teary-eyed mess to "Not Another Teen Movie". 

Glancing her way cautiously seeing her laugh at a joke said on the screen was a relief on its own. I didn't gain pleasure from seeing my friends upset, "You can stop watching me like a hawk. I'm not going to burst out crying," she said not taking her eyes off the TV. 

Cursing under my breath at failing to be more discreet, I readjusted myself on the pillow and turned to face her directly, "Sorry..." I replied sheepishly, "I promise I'm not a creep."

"Its fine. I know you're worried, I don't usually lose composure like that but that song..." she shuddered, "has too many memories that I'd much rather forget."

"Well that's not how it works. You can't just sift through your brain and tell it to delete a memory that makes you cringe in embarrassment or sad, believe me, in high school I tried." 

She remained quiet, expression blank as the images from the screen flashed before her eyes, "You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to I'm here," I offered reaching out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. That action probed her to look my way and though she squeezed it back without saying anything I had a feeling it was her way of saying, "thank you."

The night continued to unfold and with it nearing two in the morning neither of us could fall asleep when all we had the strength to do was laugh. The movie playing no longer held our attention and personally I didn't mind when Marcie was narrating a tale of being caught with a boy in her room. 

Her mother had a fit and nearly burnt the house down. It was entertaining hearing that below Ms Friedman's sweetness was a fire burning. 

"So..." she drawled leaning forward looking me over her mood bright, "have you and Donovan ever considered, you know?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively causing me to sit up. 

"What, dating? No, no, no," I shook my head but I could tell she didn't believe me but it was the truth. "I'm being serious," I attested remaining steadfast in maintaining eye contact.

"Fine," she sighed; moving back to lean on her elbows, "I'll believe you. But how come you haven't, I mean you guys really get along."

"Yeah we get along I won't deny that. However, there are people in your life who even you know are best to have as just a friend and I don't want to jeopardize what we have especially since I don't really see him in that light." She nodded her head in understanding and I took that as a chance to change the subject, "I hope you've been enjoying your time so far staying with your mom."

"It's been good, despite having bad days the adjustment hasn't been so bad with my mom and my cousin, Nicky being there to help me out," she replied reaching out to place some popcorn into her mouth. 

It gave me comfort to know she had others there to offer any support that she needed. Leaning back I wound up staring up at the plain white ceiling stretching my body gently against the couch allowing my thoughts to roam free until the familiarity of the name she mentioned made me ask the burning question that had been in my mind since I last saw that man. "Marcie?"

"Yeah?" she said, pursing my lips I decided to take a chance to render my curiosity immobile for the rest of that night and ask. 

"What does it mean when someone says they're a made man?"

It was quiet for a few seconds and for a split second I thought she hadn't heard me until she replied, "It's a term used when referring to someone whose a full member of the mafia, why?"

"N-No reason..." I faltered feeling the thumping sound from my chest fill my ears and all prospects of sleeping that night escaped me being armed with such knowledge.

***

It was no surprise when I found myself yawning for the umpteenth time the next day. 

I dragged my feet behind an oddly chirpy Marcie along the street as we moved towards her home. It had been hard falling asleep with my mind racing a mile a minute to the point I could only describe myself as nearing death. I consider myself a morning person but that was before I learnt I let a man who could possibly belong to a criminal organization into my home. 

I was stuck between chastising myself for holding onto the possibility that I was overreacting and that it could mean something else. After conducting a quick search on the internet I learnt the term could mean something else. So I had my fingers crossed he meant the harmless version.

Only time would tell when I would see him again and ask. Rubbing my eyes gently I blinked back the sleep creeping in when Marcie opened the door. She had invited me over to have brunch with her and her mother. 

Though I kindly refused she insisted I be there and as a result I hauled my lethargic ass out of my cosy blankets. "Ma!" she yelled throughout the quaint, tidy home. 

I had never been to Ms Friedman's home before so it was only natural to stop halfway in the hallway looking at the pictures and furniture that fit into her character. 

"In here," a voice replied, Marcie gestured for me to follow. Once we entered the kitchen I felt my eyes turn into saucers once they clashed with the familiar blues that were slowly beginning to haunt me. 

He was seated comfortably nursing what I could only assume was a cup of coffee with two of the men I saw from before. Ms Friedman was mixing some pancake batter by the stove and as Marcie moved about greeting everyone with ease, I found myself suddenly unable to move.

"I'm glad you guys didn't start eating without us," Marcie quipped reaching out to retrieve a piece of bacon only to have her hand slapped away by her mother, "Ow!" she whined retracting her hand causing me to snicker. Her mother looked my way smile widening. 

The warmth behind it contained enough power to make the toughest of us all turn into a softy such that when she said, "Glad you could join us, why don't you grab a seat," I found the courage to stop lingering by the threshold and followed the direction her finger pointed, which was the table currently occupied with three other individuals. 

Intentionally avoiding eye contact with him, I took the farthest seat away from him greeting them politely. "That's Leo, Daniel and Nicky," Ms Friedman said pointing to each man who greeted me whilst I made a mental note at the fact this same Nicky was related to Ms Friedman, what a small world, "this is Aaliyah. She works for me at the shop and is not a pain in the ass like you three."

I wanted to laugh if it weren't for the overwhelming need I felt to look between Ms Friedman, Marcie and Nicholas to find the similarities between them.

"Oh c'mon, where's the love?" Leo chuckled lightly. 

Glancing in his direction he had a bulky build that took up any space it could find and from his accent I had a feeling that he was Italian. If it weren't for the friendly smile on his face, the scar on his neck would have made me think twice to take a seat close to him. My eyes moved over to Daniel who was leaner, unlike the other two who were clean shaven he had a full beard and in a way the rugged look worked well on him. 

All three were handsome in their own way. It wouldn't be a surprise if they had a myriad of lovers scattered all over the city regardless of whether they engaged in shady activities or not. 

"I thought she'd at least cut us some slack. She's supposed to be making us look good in front of the pretty girl," I knew he was most probably joking but that mere fact did nothing to decrease the flutters from the comment Nicholas made. 

I swear one would think I have a problem. One minute I'm freaking out only to begin swooning at the sight of him. Everyone in the room chuckled whilst Ms Friedman frowned playfully, "I already allow you to eat my food. That's more than enough."

Though apprehensive at first I found myself relaxing a bit as brunch unfolded. It was abundantly clear Ms Friedman and Marcie had known these men for years. 

For a second I managed to get a warm reminder of the beauty that came from being around family. After the delicious meal the others gravitated towards the living room whilst I opted to help Marcie with the dishes. It was only fair I offer a hand in cleaning up. 

"So..." I breathed briefly glancing in Marcie's direction who was currently scrubbing a pan, "they seem nice."

She looked up smiling back at me, "They're all good guys once you look past the tough guy exterior. Between you and me, Leo is secretly a real softy," she paused looking at the door as if to ensure to that no one was eavesdropping until she looked back at me smiling like a Cheshire cat, "one time I caught him crying when we watched My Sister's Keeped." 

Giggling lightly, the idea of seeing a buff man like him shed a tear was a hard image to form in my head, "Well only a heartless person would keep a straight face through a scene like that. I've only watched it once but I am never watching it again. I've never been into sad endings and to be honest I can't exactly deal with the idea of losing someone I love so deeply."

A few seconds passed of utter silence, after placing some of the dishes away I turned to find her quiet all of a sudden. It caught me off guard given the lack of response and how she was just standing there tensely by the sink. 

"Let me finish off in here," I offered moving towards her and grabbing the sponge lathered in soap from her grasp. 

She blinked a few times landing back to reality plastering a faux smile that did nothing to steer me away from the concern that was slowly becoming a constant emotion I associated in relation to her, "I'm good, just thinking about something," she mumbled continuing with the task at hand.

Eyeing her for a little longer I chose to hold my tongue despite wanting to say something. My mother always told me that sometimes it takes time for people to open up to you with certainty that in the process of opening up you won't use their vulnerabilities against them.