Page 50 of Gary
“What does the doctors say?”
Grant looked at his brother who had pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Those quacks don’t know what the hell they are doing.” He fussed with the sheets and eased himself up some more. “Hand me that glass of water, will you? My throat is as dry as parchment.” He took a few sips before giving it back to his brother.
“I received a phone call this morning.”
“From?”
“Maurice Gotti.”
Gary straightened up and stared at his father.
“Why?”
“He wanted to chat. Presumably to offer his sympathy for my plight. That is how the bastard termed it. ‘My plight’. Anyway, after several inconsequential bits of nonsense, as I was about to hang up, he mentioned the fact that you are back…,” he glanced at his son.
“And the project you took on. He reminded me that the property was slated for something else, and they were not pleased. Hefurther went on to say that a community center is not a good idea.”
“How the hell is that any of his business?” Gary demanded.
“It’s not,” Graham interjected quietly. “Only, the Gotti’s and Moretti’s were in partnership for a period of years and that building was won by George in a game of cards. Maurice had always contended that the game was rigged.”
“Was it?” Gary asked tightly. He knew his uncle George had a reputation for being shady. The man had been ruthless beyond measure and used force as a weapon. He would not be surprised to know that he had cheated his way into getting the property. And if that was the case, they were going to have a fight on their hands.
“Who knows?” His father shrugged and avoided looking at him. “George assured me he won the game fair and square.”
“And we all know that Uncle George was well-known for his honest business dealings.” The sarcasm in his voice was evident.
“Show some respect for the dead!”
“I did not respect him when he was alive, I am damn well not going to do so because he is deceased,” Gary snapped back, causing his father to glare at him.
“Gentlemen, please!” Graham held up a hand and divided a glance between them. “We are all in this thing together.”
“I am sick and tired of him sitting on his high horse and playing the moral detective.”
“Someone has to.”
“Gary.”
Swinging his gaze to his uncle, Gary backed down and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“We will look into the property and make certain all the I’s have been dotted and the T’s crossed.”
“Please do that. Demolition has already started on the building, and we are scheduling to have work started the first week of December, which is in two weeks.” He flicked a glance at his dad. “You should not be taking calls from anyone else but me and Uncle Graham.”
He bristled at that. “I might be dying, but I am not afraid of some two-bit gangster. I eat people like Gotti for breakfast.”
“That was before, this is now. You are not the man you were, and it might do you well to accept that.”
“I don’t bow to anyone!”
“That right there is the problem.” Gary pointed a finger at him. “You refuse to humble yourself and take the blame for anything. You said you wanted to make a change, but I find myself wondering if you are just saying it.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Gary.”
“I have to go.”