The next day at around sundown, Jonah arrives at my house and honks his car horn. I'm in the middle of tying my tie as he does this, going into a frantic rush as I throw the flaps about. I don't intend to keep him waiting, so I take my suit jacket from my bed and throw it on, then rush down the stairs, almost tripping over myself here and there.
I quickly make it out of my house and lock the door, breathing out in relief. I turn to see Jonah in his car, looking at me with an eyebrow raised through the passanger's window. I smile tightly and make it over to him, sliding inside the vehicle.
"What is this? Do you know how to tie a tie?" Jonah asks as I'm about to strap my seatbelt over me. I look at him, then down at my tie, sighing. "You were rushing me! Don't shit on me for this."
"I will if you don't come over here and let me fix it." He says, pulling me close by my lapels and grasping my tie.
"Kinky." I smirk.
"You're disgusting." Jonah shakes his head. I smile and kiss his nose gently since I can't really reach his lips and he seems very concentrated on my tie. He manages a little smile though so I'm happy.
Just when I'm about to ask if he's done fixing my tie, it's pulled off my neck. I look at him confused as he sits back in his seat, wrapping the tie around his hand instead. "Why'd you take it?" I ask. "You look too formal. Loosen up a bit, okay? This is a date. Not a visit to the courthouse." Jonah replies, starting the car. "Now put your seatbelt on or I'll arrest you."
I laugh and strap myself in, then Jonah drives me to a place I don't even know. Honestly, we hadn't even discussed where this date would be, so right now I'm in the dark.
When we arrive to the place, I see that it's a fancy restuarant. I turn to Jonah as we unbuckle ourselves, an amused smile sitting on my face.
"What?" He asks when he meets my gaze.
"Trying to impress me, officer?" I ask. We get out of the car, and Jonah joins my side.
"No. Well, I mean--maybe. Is it working?"
I rest my hand on his cheek, saying, "Yes," before pulling him down to give me a nice smooch.
When we pull away, we walk into the restuarant and Jonah says to the receptionist that there was a reservation for two under his name. I wonder how early he planned this night rather than gawking at the pretty designs covering the walls. Like, what if I'd said no when he asked me out and he already made this reservation because he was sure I would? I can only imagine the embarrassment.
Jonah and I are guided to a booth by one of the waiters, and we sit across from one another after thanking him.
"So," Jonah pipes up, "what do you think of the restaurant so far? Fancy enough?"
I nod, looking to the wall just beside me. "Very. I feel a little underdressed considering somebody took my tie away."
I see Jonah roll his eyes through my peripherals. "You say you're underdressed? Look at me. I'm not wearing anything snazzy. I should've worn my police uniform so that way I'd actually have something important on me."
I look at him completely. "Hey." I say, a little firmer than I intended. He lifts his head up and we meet eyes. "You are wearing something important."
"And what's that?"
"Your face."
Jonah stares for a second, then he's huffing a little chuckle. "You're smooth, Finley."
"Why thank you."
A few more minutes pass with us continuing mindless chatter--with some flirting in between--before the same waiter as before is back at our booth with two wine glasses and a wine bottle. I'm surprised but, as the waiter places the items down and fills our cups, Jonah just gives him a casual thanks before he leaves again.
"They give you free wine?" I ask, picking up the glass hesitantly.
"If you pay." Jonah shrugs his shoulders. "I didn't know if you liked wine but they don't sell anything stronger so I went with something that could still get us woozy."
I huff a smile, but it's quick to falter. I'm not really a wine person (I haven't drunken wine since I was twenty-three at my mom's marriage to my step-dad) but that isn't the point. "How much did you spend on this date, Jonah? Surely this costs more than groceries for a family of five."
"That's not important. Cheers me?" Jonah brings his glass up. I suddenly feel really guilty that Jonah is doing so much for this one night alone, and I really admire the effort, but . . . this is probably for nothing.
I hesitantly raise my glass and we clink tips. We then take a sip together. When I put my glass down, I clear my throat and shift in my seat.
"Something wrong? Is this date a little . . . much?" Jonah asks me, putting his own glass down.
"Oh, no. This is perfect, Jonah, thank you. How's work?" I take another quick sip of my wine as Blondie shrugs. "As normal as it gets. Theres only minor crimes happening around town like kids trying to steal candy from gas stations. They're always caught though. Can't handle the threat of getting the police called on them."
"You guys seem scary."
"Aren't we?"
"Not when you're on a date with one."
We smile at each other, but I'm quick to look away and sip my wine again as I say, "So, mafia, huh? They're almost as scary as you."
Jonah's soft smile is replaced with pursed lips as he nods. "Yeah. Sometimes I wonder why they do whatever they do. Like, all for pleasure and money? They can do that with normal lives. They're striking fear into the town."
I nod along with him but inside my head I wheeze. I'm actually struggling to counter his claim mentally, so I don't know if I really fit in the mafia right now. "Maybe . . . they just want to be known. Important."
Jonah strokes his chin. "Possibly. But, I just don't get it. If some of the members already have partners that love them, do they really need to feel anymore important than that?" He leans back in his seat and I follow suit with a clenched jaw. "They have someone who cares for them whether that someone knows they're in the mafia or not."
There's a pause and a look of serious hesitation on Jonah's face before he's looking back at me and inhaling probably all the air on the earth.
"Listen. My mother was killed by a mafia member when I was fifteen. I was very broken over it and so was my dad. But, with the old man determined to avenge her, he quit his dead end job and became a police officer. He did it for me, for her, for himself. He died years later during a shoot-off between him, his partner and yet another mafia member. Sometimes I wonder if it was the same one who killed my mom. Anyhow, I became a police officer so I could avenge the both of them.
"I just--I'm not particularly hateful of the mafia. I strongly dislike them and what they do to this community, but . . . I don't want to dwell on the past, even if it is my motivation to do this chaotic shit all the time."
I'm left speechless as I watch Jonah swallow the rest of his wine. Shit, man, I didn't . . . I should . . . I should leave before me and him get any more serious. I can't have him get attached to me. I shift in my seat, about to go, but my tongue can't hold itself back as I spout, "My dad was an extreme alcoholic."
I grimace as Jonah leans forward, elbows on the table again. "He drank all day, every day. He had no job, no dignity--he never did anything for me, my mom, or my sister who I don't even know where she is. But even though, I loved him. On the rare occasions that he was sober, he was a lovely man. He would pat me on the shoulder and do dishes for my mom, but that was only when we didn't have beer in the fridge. He'd search everywhere for at least one bottle before giving up, doing decent human things just because there was nothing left to do. He never hit us or my mom or anything, but he really tore the family apart because he pushed my mom and my sister to the limit with his lowlife behavior. My mom divorced him and my sister ran away. I'd like to think she's alive, my sister, but I don't know. The last time I saw her was at my mom's wedding with my now step-dad. Now I have no contact with either of them."
"Tony, I'm . . . really sorry." Jonah says as I finish my own wine. I shake my head. "Your story is worse."
"But you lost your sister. That's probably worse than a murder."
"That's nonsense. How?"
"Because theres a chance she's still alive and that she remembers you, but she never made the effort to get in contact. With dead relatives, they had no choice whether or not to leave you. They just did and they can't call or text explaining how fun it is up in the sky, but . . . Just knowing that someone important to you is out there and chooses not to talk, never reassuring you that they're okay and safe, it really . . . is horrible. It's almost like they don't even want any memory of you."
My eyes completely soften. I never thought of it that way. My sister and I weren't that close to be honest, but she still meant a lot. She's blood, you know? And I feel the same with my parents.
"Let's order something, get our minds off the past." Jonah suggests after a minute of silence between us.
I relax and nod, smiling slightly. "Yes, please. I think I'd like some more wine, too."