Page 88 of Alfie: Part One
Having grown up with two incredibly dull parents, I’d vowed to myself to be more fun the day I had children. But there was no denying that Alfie took the prize, and he’d nudged me out of a comfort zone or two in the past.
His wild streak had always been so infectious to me. When we’d taken Ellie to a playground back in LA, Alfie had taught me that parents didn’t have to stand by and watch. We could be there in the sandbox with our children. We could sit on the swings with them, we could chase them around, and we could build sandcastles.
My God, I missed him so damn much.
I watched Colby finish his juice, and I was talking before I could stop myself.
“Alfie doesn’t have a guest room,” I said. “He has a home office with a bed. I have a guest studio with all the amenities you could possibly need—with room for additions. I’m sure a young man like you would like an Xbox or a PlayStation.”
He scrunched his nose and was obviously utterly confused.
“You could stay here,” I clarified. “You do your thing with Alfie—work for him or whatever mobster plans he has for you. But you could live here, with the only stipulation that you let metryto convince you to go back to school.”
I was truly pathetic. I was using a sixteen-year-old to somehow make my house less empty, to force Alfie to come out here more often, and maybe even let me see my children when it wasn’t my week.
“You don’t have to decide now.” I had to do some damage control. “Think about it. Run it by Alfieifyou want—the offer’s on the table.”
He scratched his forehead, glanced over at Alfie in the pool, and then back to me.
“I don’t get your deal, sir,” he said.
“You don’t have to call me sir,” I responded. “My name is West.”
“Aight… I don’t get your deal,West. Youse’re friends, but there’s a weird vibe. You know he’s with the Sons? But it’s a problem, innit? And you don’t know me. Why would you offer me a place to stay like that?”
All good questions.
I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, and I felt like a complete idiot.
“Alfie and I are navigating a tentative friendship, I suppose you could say,” I answered slowly. I had to choose my words carefully. “We didn’t part ways on good terms, and now we’re trying to…improve our relationship as co-parents.” That sounded all right, didn’t it? “As for my not knowing you… You’re right. I don’t. And I’m also not happy about Alfie’s…affiliations, if you will. So consider that my reason for jumping in without knowing you properly. You’re so young, and if I can plant a seed or possibly guide you in another direction, I’d say that’s worth it.”
Colby flashed me a lopsided smirk, and it was the first time he looked more at ease. “I’m never gonna be the guy who goes to college and then spends his life working for the man.”
Hmpf. “You don’t know that yet. Nor do you have to work for theman,” I pointed out. “With a good degree, you could become anything you want. An entrepreneur with your own business?—”
“But I already know what I need to know,” he laughed.
Oh boy.
“In that case, you have nothing to lose by staying here.” I shrugged and stole back my mug from Alfie’s side of the table. “Unless you’re afraid I might convince you, of course.”
He snorted, still amused. “I ain’t scared.”
“Then, there you go,” I said. “Consider my offer. If nothing else, it might be nice to be able to retreat to privacy when a six-year-old girl starts screaming at seven AM because her hair ties are crooked.”
It was known to happen.
Colby winced. “Sounds like my cousin’s place. His kid screams all the fuckin’ time.”
Seed: planted.
Perhaps I should have worked late on Friday rather than left early.
I’d goneinearly, to make sure I was caught up on everything before the weekend, and I’d even brought breakfast for my morning meeting with my production team. But as the building had filled up with weekend staff for tomorrow’s and Sunday’s specials, I’d found myself reserving a tee time instead of getting an early start on next week’s projects.
We could expect some headlines after the weekend, which we were used to whenever we covered controversial topics. Weekend episodes were two hours long instead of one, and they’d been dubbed “Philly bombings” by some media outlets and many who followed the show regularly. Tomorrow, for instance, they were discussing the next election by hosting a debate with local politicians and pundits. On Sunday, they were dedicating the first hour to corruption within Pennsylvania.
There’d be no mention of the Sons of Munster, and after what Alfie had told me—that corruption was big—maybe there should be.