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this is another story i am writing kk

Its summer here and its hot. I’m Aofie O’Brian, my father Patrick O’Brian and he is the don of the Irish mob. Prohibition is killing my people we are drinkers. That is how we where born and that is how we will die. The Italians have started to open small underground bars called speakeasies, but we have our own as well we call them Pubs. We also have bootleggers as well but we call them distributors.
My father says there is no use hiding it. We have most of the coppers on our side anyways. And we won’t go to hell because we go to church regularly, almost three times a week. God will forgive us. Did I mention I was sixteen, next week is my birthday? I’m supposed to be looking for a husband. He hast to be at least nineteen, Irish, and catholic.
My da’ tells me everyday: “Aofie, love, you are turning seventeen soon” his accent is so thick I can barley understand him myself “You’ll need a good husband to look after you.”
“Da’ how can you say that you know I’m tough enough to take care of myself.”
“I know, I know, my love but seeing that you’re my only child and a girl I will need someone to take over the business when I’m gone.”
“But I can do it” I demand.
‘I know you are capable of it but…” He goes on about tradition and religion and religion and the woman’s role in the house hold. I’ll spare ya.
You are probably thinking right now “Oh poor girl she has no chance.” Well you’re wrong my mother had no chance; she was a Born on the street she had no choice but to be a pro skirt. That is how my father met her…well not exactly.
One cold Sunday morning, almost twenty years ago, my father was sitting church with his family. A sheik young man of twenty-three; dark brown hair and blue eyes, reflecting the sun in the stained glass windows. In the middle of service a young woman with flaming red hair came in the door. I’m not sure this is how it really went but this is how my father tells it.
As she slowly walked down the isle, trying not to distract anyone, which means she was. She walked past my father’s seat. He said she was pale and her face was sunken in, she was really sick. She fell, well fainted, and my da’ was the only one to get up and help her. Picking her up from the ground he carried her three blocks to the hospital. Later grandma told me he that he took the car a block, but I like my da’s version more. But he stayed with her all night until she woke up. He got her off the streets, cleaned her up. They fell in love, got married and head me. She died twelve years ago, I don’t remember crying at her funeral.
I do remember however, three years ago on New Years Eve. I seen my father kiss another woman, I grabbed her and took her to the back, my da’ yelling at me the whole time to leave her alone. In the back alley I flattened her ugly mug. My da’ just watched. On the way home I cried on his shoulder, he held me in his arms and carried me to bed. The next day the buttons where at the door looking for me, my da’ told them that I was at home all night and that my nanny could vogue for me they left. That girl, she was found in spring later in the river…Poor girl.
Let’s get back to the present, now. So the Italians are getting mad at because we are moving in on there customers and taking there corners. My da’ just says that we are “buying” them out and we will “liquidate” all those in our way. “Our way he says “our way” yeah that’s are he wont let me take over the business.
Sorry got off track, so it’s July 4th, and I am getting ready for a funeral. I’ve laid out my dress and I have to get flowers. You see my best friend was shot last week in the cross fire of our hachetmen and the Italians. His name was Toni he had been my best friend since I was six and he was eight. Toni was a neutral Italian having friends on both sides. He was the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life. If it was not for my da’ we probably would have already been married. I was head over heels for him.
There is a little flower shop down the street from his house that I’ll stop at. I putt on my nicest black dress and hat. Then heading out the door I shut it quietly. Hailing a hack I stopped at the flower shop.
Seeing the perfect bouquet; all white flowers roses, carnations, tulips, and orchids wrapped in a yellow ribbon. As I reached for it a man wearing a black pinstriped suit grabbed for it.
“Um excuse me I was going to get that. It’s for a friend so give it.” I said disgusted.
“Go fade.” The nerve of him…
“Come on don’t be a goon.” I smiled.
“Fine, here.” He sighed shoving it in my face.
“Uh, thanks.”
He picked up another bouquet and got in line behind me.
“What you want it to say doll?” the lady asked at the front counter.
“To: Tony Fatelly; Love: Aofie” I told her tears misting my eyes.
“What you say” the guy asked me.
“Tony Fatelly is that white?”
“No it’s not white you are Irish and he was Italian.”
“Why dose that matter? And he still is Italian, just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he’s changed.”
“Tony was my best friend and he was killed by Mics. So why are you buying flowers for him?”
“I don’t think it’s your business why I have them.” I snapped grabbing the flowers “thank you.”
Leaving the store I started walking towards Tony’s house. Their where a bunch of ginks, standing on the corner, smoking reefers. They where dressed all spiffy. They started to whistling and hooting and hollering. One of them came up to me and started to talk to me, “hey Sheba, if I give you some oyster fruit would you give me a kiss?”
“Sure could you have one of your fellas hold my flowers?” I said smiling holding my flowers out.
“Come on boys help the dame out.” One of the other guys took the flowers and then the first guy bent down to my height and closed his eyes and I pasted him right in the kisser. He fell on the ground and I grabbed my flowers and walked off.
“Go Dutch yourself punk.” I called speeding up.
“God damn, girlie! But she sure does have a set of pins” I could hear him from behind me, giggling I walked across the street.
***
At the house of Tony’s parents there where dozens of people sitting around crying talking or just sitting there staring at the casket. I found Maria, Tony’s mother; she sat in the sofa that was placed in front of Tony’s casket. She sat there alone, surprisingly because all the time I have known her she had never been alone. Putting the flowers down next to her, I Leaned down in front of her, her head was down in her hands over her face. I placed my hands on her knees looking at her face my eyes flooded with tears. Seeing me she embraced me, patting her back I whispered “I’m so sorry.”
“You know he loved you? You where the only girl to steel his heart” she spoke thru her tears and her thick accent.
“And he for me. I will miss him so.”
“Excuse me” a familiar voice interrupted.
Maria and I looked up and it was the guy from the flower shop. I moved away from Maria and I bent down kissing Maria on both cheeks. “Oh Marco you made it” Maria smiled as much as she could at the time. “Aofie this is Marco Anthony’s best friend. Marco this is Aofie, the girl that stole our Anthony’s heart.” Maria sniffed.
“I had no clue that I was doing it, we where friends since childhood, I thought that I was one of the guys.” I tried to laugh.
“Oh yes you where that and much more. You could always play harder than the rest of his friends.” She said.
“Well yes I just stopped by to give my respects but I must breeze, ya savvy’ my father…” Marco interrupted.
“Yes it was nice to see you.”
Maria frowned at me then Marco left. I stayed for a good three hours talking to Maria and Franc, Tony’s father. Finally reaching my home I went to my fathers study. Opening the door his men glared at me, “sorry da’ I’ll come back later.” I smiled closing the door.
“No, Aofie come in here me and the boys where just talking about you.” I reopened the door entering the room. A nervous smile spreading across my face. A woman, with blond hair, sat in the corner sipping a glass of bourbon “who’s the chippy, you pick her up at the creep joint?” I glared at my father.
“Aofie that is not why we are here, I wanted to…”
“So you did?”
“Aofie! Listen to me, why where you on the Italians side of town? I heard you punched one of their men. Is this true?”
Not taking my eyes off the woman I said mostly to her “yeah and I would do it again, if I had the chance” shifting my weight I glanced at my father. “So Patrick is that it I would like to flop. I’m feeling a bit ill all of a sudden.”
“Grace would you mind leaving the room for a moment” my father asked the woman.
“No problem Mac. It was getting a bit crowded in here anyway” Grace said getting up and exiting the room.
“Aofie what was that about? Why where you acting like a high-hat?”
“You are taking that whores side over mine?”
“I never said anything about that. Why where you there?”
“Where?” I snapped.
“Don’t take that tone with me. You know what I’m talking about. The Irish quarter!”
“Oh, why did you say so? It was Tony’s funeral remember your goons shot him.”
“I don’t ever want to here that you are there again you savvy?”
“Yeah I savvy,” I said turned and walked out the door.
“Aofie?” my father called before I went out the door “she means nothing just a dame. You are my girl.”
Smiling I walked up the stairs to my room. I put on my night shirt and went to bed.
***
Waking up the next morning to the sound of a trumpet playing Duke Ellington’s “it don’t mean a thing…” I stretched smiling and got out of bed. Opening my bed room door I spotted a silk party dress. It was hers, Grace, that dumb chippy. She should have known better than to leave her clothes out in the hall. Picking them up me went down stairs and put on my overcoat. I called the driver to bring the car around.
Waiting on the front step I neatly folded the dress. The car pulled up, I got in, and I told Joe to go to Michigan Ave. he asked why but I didn’t tell him, he didn’t ask again. Stopping on the side of the road I seen a young girl of about 18 and yelled for her to come to the car.
“Hey doll, wanna dress?” I asked her.
“What kind of dope do you take me for?” she said in the usual flapper voice.
“Hunny this aint’ no con a dish like you shouldn’t be going to the local joint lookn’ like bum. Just add a string of marbles and you will be spiffy.”
“to bad I aint’ got no marbles…” she smiled.
Give a girl an inch she takes a mile “well…” looking around I found a string of pearls on the floor “here take these I don’t want them no more. You tell no one about this you savvy?”
“Hey these aren’t hot, are they?”
“Do I look like I need to dip?” At that I rolled up the window and we drove off. Arriving back home the house was quiet. Joe had promised not to tell anyone about what had happened. I snuck back to my room and slowly fell back to sleep. About an hour later there was a knock on my door.
“Aofie, have you seen Graces dress?” my father asked from the other side of the door”
“Why would I have da’ I’ve been in bed and she wouldn’t just leave them around any way would she?” I said trying not to laugh.
“Ok love, breakfast is done. So please don’t be long”
“Ok I’ll be down soon” I said sweetly my cheeks turning red with guilt.
Throwing the covers off of my body the air hit me like a drill. Sitting up I looked out the window and watched as Daisy got in the car wrapped in a robe. Sitting in the back seat she looked around for witnesses her eyes met mine, they stayed locked until she turned the corner and I think I could still feel her looking at me.
Getting up I went to my bathroom, looking in the mirror I sighed deep seeing the bags under my eyes. Running the water in the sink splashing some on my face

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