ATONEMENT (31 page)

She opened the door and
t
here
with her head
dangling out of a
window, clad in bright silk jammies stood the petite Kim-Sung puffing on a joint.

The cold
wind
chilled the room and caused Selange to shiver involuntarily. She shut the door, “Close the window and go to bed!”

Kim-Sung retracted her head and turned around leaning against the windowsill.
“
J
oin me
, good stuff
.”

Selange’s expression reflected her shock
that
Kim-Sung
even
smoked weed
. She wondered w
hat else didn’t she know about this eclectic group of women and mo
st
importantly what did they know about
her?

                                          
***

K
im-Sung grew
and harvested
her own marijuana
. She
brought a gallon bag of the stuff a
nd a
handful of delicious aromatic fragrances to burn
as air fresheners
.
How did Selange know? Kim-Sung
told her as she sat
cross-legged on the floor, leaning on Selange’s bed, talking up to her
uninterested roommate.
She told Selange she didn’t trust the
dealers
and preferred
growing her
own
weed
. What Selange hadn’t expected was the in-depth lesson Kim-Sung gave on the subject. A girl from
Brooklyn
didn’t know squat in comparison
, but then again Selange never smoked
anything
.

Kim-Sung recited many of the crazy names cannabis went by;
grey goose, sour diesel,
skywalker
, OG, purple
kush
,
god’s
gift
and a list of others. Then she went into the
pure marijuana plant groups wh
ich are either
indica
or sativa, describing the plants and their effects. Ty
pically
i
ndica
strains of cannabis are smaller in stature then
sativa
. They
’re
bushy
and grow wider rather th
an
taller.
It gives the
body buzz allowing the user to just sit and relax.
It
’s also
medicinally used to treat insomnia. Kim-Sung said it helped her fall asleep, which Selange supposed was what she tried to achieve at this hour of the morning but by her chatter it had yet to work
.
 

The
s
ativa strain of cannabis is longer and taller th
an the
i
ndica
strains. They induce the user into a state often described as uplifting and energetic.
I
deal for
daytime
smokers
who engage in physical activity.
Perhaps, Kim-Sung
go
t the
information
r
everse
d
or the weed clouded her brain. If what she said were true, shouldn’t she be asleep, after-all she had smoked two joints in the past hour?

At three in the morning, and
tired of
listening to the
ramblings of a
pot-head, Selange
reached for her
I
pod
, slipped in her earphones
,
pulled the covers over her head and forced herself to sleep.
Kim-Sung and
Domingo
were ideal for each other
!

                                   
***

Selange
’s eyelid
s felt like bricks
were
hold
ing
them shut as she struggled to open them at the sound of
a woman’s voice right above her head raised in condemnation. There was male laughter, one she recognized
instantly. She
peered over the edge of the blanket
and
was greeted by a clean-shaven
and gorgeous
Nico
. Tia
scowl
ed at her and the midday
sun
light
made her squint
.

Tia pointed to the windowsill, fussing in Italian and gesturing at Selange. Blinking, Selange slid up and rubbed the
heavy slabs from
her eyes. “What
time is it
?”

“One o’clock.”

Nico’s expression was
soft
,
“Seems Kim-Sung had
you up late
.”

Another groan, “
You think? I get put in a room with a pothead
.” Selange answered. “Let me get
ready
before Tia gets an aneurysm.”

At the sound of her name Tia gestured and stormed out the room, calling over her shoulder, “
Vieni
Nico,
fuori
!”

Nico’s dimples were visible without the beard. Selange
waved bye, thinking how odd
Alfonzo had deep ones
like that
, too
.

“Meet you downstairs, Tia’s making sure I get out.”
Tia hovered at the door
.
Nico kept his back
to the cantankerous woman and
silently mouthed
,
“
Hurry up
woman;
I
’ve got
a surprise for you.”

And like many women eager to receive a
n unexpected
gift, Selange leaped out of bed, her
shapely
round bottom visible in the skimpy lace shorts as she rushed to the bathroom
. Nico’s smile broadened. He had to admit, the woman could move and damn she was hot!

Unlike most women she was dressed in under an hour, in the car beside Nico and they were on their way.

Nico actually smiled. She looked like a celebrity in
the
faux fur white sable, matching hat and designer shades. Her rich black hair
covered her collar and quite frankly she looked stunning for someone who’d gotten dressed so quickly. Nico complimented her, “You look
beautiful.
”

“Thank you. I see you shaved,
I approve.
”

“Glad you like.” H
e
motioned
to the backseat,
“I brought along a camera in case you want to take some pictures.”

She reached for the
camera
,
a Canon Eos 7D
. It’s considered t
op of the line
,
mainly
used
by professionals. She placed it on her lap, “Where are we going?”

“
It’s a surprise, remember?”

“Does it include food?”

“Food for the mind, sure.”

Her fingers caressed the
28/
135mm lens as the Mercedes traveled the narrowing road. She watched the scenery unaware Nico watched her wondering what she was thinking about or who. Certainly she thought about her children, he thought about his every day, but he hadn’t thought much about Ariana. He never wore his wedding band, it was an occupational hazard. Selange’s bright pink di
amond
was worn religiously
on her finger
. Was she thinking of her husband at this very minute and their wedding vows
, he wondered
?

His mouth tightened. She loved Alfonzo and he would never ask her to choose. No, he wasn’t delusional about who she loved more or angry for that matter. There were children to consider not
mentioning
the precariousness of their situation. Besides, Alfonzo would not let her go, he knew the man well. He’d die or kill before he allowed it. That’s the strength of how much he loved her.
Anyway, Nico figured marriage for somebody like him wasn’t in the cards. There weren’t happy ever after’s for a hit-man. A solitary life awaited or an
assassin’s
bullet. Having and loving such a wonderful woman in the here and now was enough for Nico. He was blessed
in
some regard, he’d found love twice, produced two wonderful boys and got to taste a bit of heaven. It was enough. He could feel her eyes on him
,
and then
she turned away
to
check
text messages. He gave a voice command and the sound of classical music filled the silence. His errant thoughts were redirected to the road.

Soon Nico
turned onto the
p
iazza Santa Maria
delle
Grazie
to the
ancient church which housed Leonardo Di Vinci’s
famous painting of
‘
The Last Supper
’
.

“Oh my God, Nico, is
this
what
I think it is?” She gasped.