Wait and Hope: Chapter Thirteen
The Fusco
This was not how Sherry Newton spent the start of her Mondays. The beginnings of that day never started before eight AM. Two unhurried hours of her morning ablutions, a thirty minute brunch and then a leisurely drive in her pride and joy to whatever activity she had planned for herself on her day off. Sherry essentially volunteered to help her uncle out when times for the diner were rough as a cashier-hostess for the lunch shift, Tuesdays through Saturdays. Sherry didn’t need the job as a member of the moneyed Newton family but her maternal uncle had been working class all his life-part owner and manager now of Perry’s. When fortunes of the diner started looking up, with peak hours for the midday meal beginning late morning and lasting well into the afternoon, Sherry had stayed on pro-bono.
Only difference now, the epitome of manhood - the savior of Perry’s diner - known as Rafe the cook and Sherry’s hidden desire to have the blue-eyed, salt and pepper haired Adonis for her own held more sway over her remaining than any family loyalty. Sherry had thanked the heavens when Rafe and she had fallen into the arrangement of friends only dating; she could bide her time until he came round. Sherry had been so angry last Friday night when her Lancelot had showed up late having played knight in shining armor to the leader of the Geek Squad, that her uncle had told her to stay home Saturday. Then to find out that friends were all she and Rafe would ever be; Rafe really wasn’t interested in her as a woman or any woman at all, Sherry had seen murderous red. When her ire eventually cooled, well was snuffed out like the flame on a candle seeing how truly smitten Rafe was with Mr. Pocket Square; Sherry realized how much of a true friend the man had become to her and how much she wanted Rafe to be happy even if his happiness came in the package of a limping little man with glasses.
What did this have to do with the lousy beginning to her week? Usually Rafe was the morning prep cook. On Mondays he came in around two A.M. to take deliveries for the day’s bread and vegetables. Boris the day shift cook was kind enough to come in early to take deliveries, prepare the veggies for the day, and start the biscuit batches that would be cooked as ordered. Rafe was also the manager on duty most Mondays. He made the day’s deposit, most of it consisting of Saturday’s receipts, at five and left it for the day shift manager to take to the bank when it opened. Rafe was able to be the prep cook, manager, baker, line cook, and help the waitress on duty. But Rafe was on a date so Sherry needed to go in at five in his place as manager. That early only a manager, one waitress, and a cook were on shift. The manager would act as waitress if the crowd got too busy.
This morning though, she had to take the subway since Rafe had her car. This was not a problem usually, but Sherry spent too much time in the shower thinking about all the sweet and sexy scenarios that might have happened between tall, dark, and handsome Rafe with his cute little nerd. She was late for the train, late for her bus, and late for the shift. The shift started with a problem. The nearby construction had a crew of twenty. Every one of them decided to show up at five-thirty. Usually the morning shift doesn’t get rocking until six. Sherry couldn’t finish the deposit, she didn’t have enough coffee for this crowd, and she would be the only waitress until seven; Tiffany the waitress scheduled for opening was a no show. She hated being a waitress and the reason why she rarely worked the five to one shift, but it was for a good cause. At least it better be. Rafe was due for a report on the night’s activity any time now.
Sherry was stressed out to say the least. Close to seven one of their regulars popped in. She remembered him from those early hours she had come in as manager on her uncle’s mornings off as well as one of her lunch crowd. Sherry knew that he was a cop and always polite. Mornings, he left a tip even if he only ordered coffee, lunch, if only a sandwich and coffee to go. The man was sweet-tempered with curly hair and the cutest belly. He was large, but short. Sherry thought of him, not mean spirited in any way, as a pug-dog of a man. Sherry would usually only see him up close or speak to him as he paid his tab and left.
Today, he was early and Sherry could indulge in some snooping as she took his order. “What can we get for you sweetie?” She asked.
Lionel Fusco looked up and smiled at the cashier he had been gathering his nerve to talk to for weeks. She usually only said Hi and Bye to him. He hadn’t thought she would be the one to take his order. He needed more time to think up something say, “Uh...coffee and the fried ham special. Eggs over medium, toast white, onion and tomato in the hash browns. Cream and honey.”
Sherry looked confused. Fusco realized he meant to say ‘Cream and sugar, Honey.’ Dammit! “Uh, for the coffee. Cream and honey.”
Sherry shrugged, “Okay thought you liked Equal most days, but we have honey for the hot tea crowd. Will that do?”
Fusco looked abashed, but he had to run with his mistake. “Yes, thank you.”
Sherry ambled off, the swish of her uniform skirt catching his ear. She was so cute, all ribbons and curls in her long blond hair. Most women Fusco dealt with recently were all hardened professionals, lawful or otherwise. Which was fine, but sometimes Lionel wanted a softer side in his life.
Fusco sighed, it was not likely that any soft woman was gonna be interested in him. Wanda and he had dated casually for almost a year before she stopped returning his calls with no explanation.
The precinct was getting a new Captain and Lionel still had no partner. Not that anyone could replace Carter, but no back-up meant Fusco was desk bound for most of his cases. He would send the rookies out to investigate as he worked the cases in house using his connections on the phone. It wasn’t ideal, but with the LEGEND of the Fusco spreading throughout the force, Lionel was trying to keep a low profile. All the cases he had cleared in the last three years had garnered him a reputation. However, since the blackout he hadn’t heard from his certain friends, without Wonder Boy and Glasses to feed him new leads, Fusco was running to keep up to his own record.
While Lionel was bemoaning his bad luck staring blankly out the window his booth was next to he did not notice the new guy popping in the entrance behind him. The guy would have been familiar to Fusco; tall, good looking, salt and pepper hair with a walk like an alley cat that had been in too many fights to be friendly, but won most of those scraps to be ignored easily. Rafe was coming in to give Sherry her car keys and be interrogated. Lionel would have recognized John Reese anywhere.
Rafe came around the counter and handed Sherry her keys by dropping them into her apron pocket. Sherry turned and hugged Rafe. “Oh damn! This morning crowd is killing me. I haven’t had time to do the deposit for Saturday.”
Rafe returned the hug and looked around. “Want me to do it?”
Sherry sighed happily, “Please! After the seven o'clock girl gets here I will be heading to the office to give you the third degree”
Rafe smirked and left for the back office. He was sure that he would be interrogated by the master later.
Meanwhile, Fusco got up the nerve to start chatting Sherry up. He ate his breakfast fast and took his dishes up to the counter. “Hope you don't mind. I just wanted to help.”
Sherry smiled, ‘You are a sweetheart.”
Just then the seven o'clock girl rushed in and reported for duty. Sherry explained about the coffee and that Boris might be a little behind since the crowd just left. Sherry wiped her brow and contemplated taking a break before tackling Rafe. She saw Fusco hadn’t left, had returned to his booth, nursing a glass of water when Sherry decided she could sit and have some coffee with a customer. “Natasha, I am going to take a break then check on the office. Buzz if you need me.” Even after years of the two working at the diner Sherry mentally laughed remembering the cartoon characters their names Boris and Natasha reminded Sherry of.
“Sure thing, Sherry.”
Sherry gathered two steaming, fresh brewed cups of their Colombian blend. She stood by Fusco’s booth and asked, “Can a girl join one of New York’s finest for a spell?”
Fusco rose up in a rush and stammered, ‘S-sure! My pleasure...um my honor.”
They both sat and Sherry tried to hide her indulgent smile. The cop was nervous. It was adorable!
Sherry extended an elegant right hand, jeweled rings on long slender fingers ending with manicured nails painted a dusky rose, she introduced herself silkily, “I’m Sherry, Sherry Newton and you are?”
Lionel had the urge to wipe his hand first but instead took the dainty, yet surprisingly strong hand, in his own. He tried to answer and not trip over his own tongue this time, “Lionel Fusco, ma’am, Detective Lionel Fusco.”
Sherry made sure to slide her thumb across the back of the masculine hand and fingers sprinkled with dark hair as she slipped her hand from Fusco’s grasp. Laughingly she fawned, “So polite, but I’m Ms. Newton. Only my mother is referred to as ma’am.”
“You're a detective?” Sherry gushed impressed. “I heard round you were police but an honest to goodness detective?”
Fusco wasn’t one to fluster easily but twice in one morning he felt the warmth of embarrassment rising in his face. “It’s really not as exciting as it sounds. I sit at my desk, for hours or an entire shift some days, just going over crime photos and forensic reports.”
Sherry waved away his words with a flick of her ornamented fingers, “You're too modest, Lionel. I can call you Lionel? I am sure it’s more…exciting!" She glance at her watch and sighed disappointingly, “I need to get back to work, maybe we can talk some more...about your job...later?”
Lionel looked at his watch too, cursing the time and that he needed to leave, when it hit him like a ton of bricks. She’s hitting on you moron! “I’d like that. I get off duty at six. Would you like to meet for a drink somewhere maybe over dinner?”
“I’d love to.” Sherry grabbed a napkin scribbling her phone number on it before handing it to the astonished detective. “I am just filling in this morning. I'll be done in a few hours, call me then, okay?”
With that the burly detective stood up from the booth to follow the blonde beauty in a waitress uniform to the cash register to pay for his meal.
Just as Sherry was using his change as excuse to hold his hand, the bell rang for the front door. Standing there menacingly holding a gun was a man wearing a black ski mask. Sherry squeaked in fear. Below the cash register was a buzzer for the office, she pressed it. A monitor in the office showed all the camera angles in the dining room and lobby. If a waitress needed help from a manger they buzzed them. Right then Rafe looked up at the monitor to see Sherry being threatened by a gun. He immediately left the office. Unnoticed by the gunman intent on the cashier and the register, Rafe passed by the coffee makers and grabbed a fresh pot. Right before he threw the pot at the robber, Rafe caught the eye of the cop drawing his weapon. It was his old friend Detective Fusco. Rafe didn’t pause; he threw the pot squarely at the robber’s face. As soon as the masked man dropped his weapon to grab at his burning face, Fusco acted. He took out the guy’s knee which caused the would-be robber to flop on the floor in a painful heap. Lionel grabbed his cuffs and had the screaming robber subdued in seconds. He stood up to reach for his phone to call it in when he spotted the coffee thrower holding the cashier to calm her down. Fusco almost dropped his phone is shock: it was John Reese.
Before Fusco could speak, Rafe grabbed Lionel’s hand and shook it. “Thank you Officer! Thank you. If anything had happened to my staff I would have been beside myself. You have the eternal gratitude of Rafe Rissole” Rafe held Fusco's eye long enough for the detective to comprehend; Rafe Rissole was now John Reese's cover.
Lionel got it. “Oh! Mr. Rissole. Please? I was just doing my job.” He winked and bent over to take off the mask of the assailant.
When a red headed punk was revealed, Natasha and Sherry gasped, “It’s Freddie!”
Fusco stood up and looked confused. Sherry moved away from Rafe and stood close to Fusco. “Freddie is Tiffany’s boyfriend.”
Natasha piped in, “Tiffany was supposed to be here working with me at seven!”
Rafe sighed, “Well, I guess we know why she didn’t come in.”
Sherry kicked Freddie in the stomach with a dainty foot. “Did Tiffany put you up to this?”
Fusco pulled her away as Freddie groaned, “Listen punk it would easier for you if you told us the truth.”
Freddie was happy to tell everyone that Tiffany told him about the Saturday deposits. But normally the scary night cook Rafe was here. Rafe was known as the guard dog of the diner. But a few days ago Tiffany informed Freddie that Rafe was taking the day off. So, only Sherry would be doing the cash deposit. She said it would be easy money.
Sherry’s uncle, Tom Carlson, arrived as the same time the uniforms pulled their cruiser out of the parking lot, the suspect handcuffed in the back of the squad car.
Tom walked into the dining room to see his frazzled looking but otherwise unharmed niece pulling a stocky curly headed man is a suit towards him with an extremely apologetic looking Rissole following behind. Even though his niece was singing the praises of her new hero, a Detective Fusco, and apparently newest romantic interest the way she kept slipping her arm into his while batting her eyes in guy’s direction, Tom found out if not for Rafe’s quick thinking, the would be robber may have injured or killed someone. Possibly not even the armed detective could have done anything to prevent it.
Still, Rafe apologized that it was his fault that this happened. If he hadn’t asked for the day off Tiffany and her boyfriend wouldn’t have thought the diner would be easy pickings.
Tom grabbed Rafe’s arm chiding him for feeling that any of this was Rafe’s fault in any manner. “Son! You are here seven days a week. You deserve time off at least once for your personal life. No way in hell is any of this your fault. If it wasn’t for you…Sherry might have been killed.”
“I can’t reward you much for what you have done, and knowing you, I doubt you’d take it.” Tom released his hold on Rafe’s arm to grab his hand instead and shook it. “But I insist you take the week off with pay. That means I don’t want to find your ass in here from the time you leave here today until bright and early Monday morning ... to eat breakfast. Your shifts are covered. You hear?”
Fusco’s head snapped up when he heard the uncle suggest that Rafe take his young man to the fair. He’d always thought John was straight and if Reese swung the other way then Glasses would be the one. Still at the mention of the fair, Fusco piped in, “I’m taking my son, Lee there.”
Sherry squealed in delight that she loves kids, at which point Fusco whipped the picture of Lee out of his wallet to show her faster than a grandmother with pictures of the grand kids.
“He’s handsome. I’d like to meet him.”
Fusco took the plunge, “Would you like to go with us?
Sherry eagerly accepted the invitation going so far as suggesting that they all double date to the fair.
Rafe panicked thinking it might be too dangerous for both Harry and Rafe to be seen with the detective out in public and declined stating he already made plans for Thursday evening. “Maybe another time?”
Rafe and Tom then went into the office to finish up with the deposit, while Sherry saw Fusco to the door after giving him her formal statement of the events.
Sherry turned the open sign back over and kept the door unlocked for business to resume after the morning's activities.
An hour later when Tom returned from making the bank deposit, he urged Rafe and Sherry to go home.
Sherry offered to give Rafe a lift wherever since his pickup was still parked at his apartment.
“Where to?” Sherry broke into Rafe’s thoughts. They were in the Lexis a few blocks from the diner.
“Take me home.” Was all Rafe said, but after months of learning the man who she now thought of as her BFF, Sherry could tell home was the last place Rafe wanted to go.
“Okay honey, talk to me!”
Rafe drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I want to go back to Harry’s apartment, to be waiting for him when he walks through his door. I want to gather him in my arms again. But, I need to back off, to give him time.”
“So, your date went well?”
Rafe grinned madly despite the consternation etched on the rest of his features. “Harry wants me as much as I want him.”
“But…?” Sherry didn’t really want to push for specifics especially intimate ones, but sensed her friend needed to talk to someone.
“I can’t get into details, but Harry has…personal issues…to work through before we go further. I have to take things really slow, give him the space he needs for now. It’s not easy; I just want to be there. Even if we do no more than hold each other as we sleep like we did last night.”
“Sounds like your Harry really is the one for you, honey. And you are the one for him. Don't let him get away.” Sherry took her right hand off the steering wheel briefly to give Rafe a reassuring pat on his thigh. “Don't you…ever…let him go!”
John Reese looked at the first true friend he had in almost a lifetime to just share his life’s problems with, even if she only knew him as Gianni Rafael Rissole, “I won't, I couldn’t even if I tried.” I’ll always love him; everything I am belongs to Harold Finch.
Sherry pulled into the parking area for a surprisingly popular little sandwich shop not far from Rafe’s just a stop off to better things apartment building.
“Let’s go! I’ll buy us an early lunch. You tell me about your date.”
Laughing the two friends exited the silver car and headed towards the shop, Sherry accepting Rafe’s proffered arm.
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue