Free Dead Cat Bounce by Norman Green

see now, he figure his own way to do everything. Just needed, you know…” He looked at the ceiling, searching for the right English words.
    â€œA little encouragement.”
    â€œYeah,” Tommy said. “ Exactamente. You want a nice coffee?”
    â€œNah, that’s all right.”
    Fat Tommy ignored Stoney’s answer. “Hey, I gotta nice Italian roast. You gonna like.” He busied himself measuring water, grinding beans, pouring cream into a little ceramic pitcher. “So? You calla you wife yet?”
    â€œYeah. We’re supposed to meet at a steakhouse up by the Tap tomorrow night.”
    â€œTappan Zee Bridge? Nicea place?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œGood. Don’a you worry, everything gonna come good.”
    â€œI hope you’re right, Tommy, but I don’t have your confidence. Donna’s been in a pretty strange head ever since Iquit drinking. I don’t get it. I don’t know if she’s got too many birds on her antenna or what.”
    â€œListen to me,” Tommy said. “Everything different, all of a sudden. Everybody wasa worry about you. I know you stoppa to drink, stoppa to smoke ju-ju weed, sniff powders, alla that stuff you wasa do. That’sa nice, you make everybody happy, maybe we don’ gonna bury you so soon. But you become different guy now, you understand? Nobody understand exactly what to do with you. I wasa think, maybe you gonna find the baby Jesus, go find another line of work.”
    Stoney squinted at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
    Fat Tommy shrugged. “Well, I’ma ask around, you know, what’s gonna happen. Here’sa this guy, used to be alla time drink, get high, now he’sa go to meeting instead. ‘Watch out,’ they tolla me. ‘Everything gonna change now.’ I don’ know what to do. I don’ wanna be the guy, you know, make you go back. Me an’ Donna, I think we do the same lilla dance. Check, you know, peek, he’s okay? I don’ know, what he’sa do now? You hear me? You gotta have some patience. Gonna take time.”
    â€œYeah, all right. Listen, don’t be surprised if Donna calls you sometime in the next few days.”
    Tommy nodded. “She wanna talk about money.”
    Stoney looked at him, surprised. “Money? Is that what she said? She call you already?”
    â€œNo. But I know she gonna call. Everybody don’ gonna be like you, Stoney.”
    â€œI don’t get it. What do you mean?”
    Fat Tommy shook his head. “Every year,” he said, “tax time, I make a nice report. Marty Cohen used to help me do.This year I hadda find a new guy. Anyway, nice report, show everything, almost. So much over here, so much over there, this building, that company, all that stuff. Plus, I tell you few things we don’ gonna write down, some cash over here and over there. I give to you, along with tax paper, you don’ even look. You sign the name, hand back. Am I right?”
    â€œI suppose. But it’s been a while since you and I needed to worry about money, Tommy.”
    â€œStoney, people don’ worry about money because they need. You go hungry in this country, you don’ try very hard. People worry about money because they wanna new house, new car, new fur coat.”
    â€œOr because they gotta put their kids through school.”
    Tommy tilted his head, looked at Stoney. “Okay, that, too. But usually, they want, they no need. But I know you don’ think about, too much, so I take care. No problem.”
    â€œI trust you, Tommy. With my money, anyhow.”
    Tommy snickered. “Everybody got his limitation. Listen to me. Donna is like a woman who wasa sleep for a long time. You understand? But now she’sa wake up, she’sa look around, she start to worry about everything. For so many years, she wasa just trust you, now she wanna see for herself. So don’t worry, when