27 Chapter Twenty Seven

Manny's hearing was a week later. Dante hurried up the courtroom steps, cringing at the sound of his brown loafers slapping against the pristine yellowed marble tiles as they echoed in the high domed ceilings decorated like the Sistine Chapel. He ran into the courtroom. Dante quickly checked for pit stains on his royal blue button up shirt as he slid in next to his mom on the worn down oak pews that made up the spectator seating of the county courthouse.

Dante did a quick scan of the room and noticed that except for his mother and father, the only other person that made up the audience for the hearing was an elderly woman who sat quietly and alone in the corner. Dante felt the woman had been there long before Manny's case, simply standing witness to the court determining the fate of the many who stood on stand just that day.

Dante turned his attention to the judge, trying to focus on what he was saying over Dante's own shallow breaths from rushing from work to court in time to make it to his brother's hearing. The judge was currently deciding what Manny's punishment would be because Manny had already admitted to the charges in a hearing prior. Dante could only hope Manny would only get a few months of probation like his accomplices.

"...I'm sure you regret your actions young man, but I'm sorry, this kind of behavior needs to be nipped at the bud. It may be just a harmless prank today, but it could easily turn into armed robbery tomorrow. People could get hurt. Young boys like you need to learn consequences, which is why you'll be sent to a juvenile holding area for the next three weeks, will be under probation for the next year, pay a fine of 2,500, and that's not including the money you'll be paying Mr. Charles to reimburse him for your petty crimes."

Before anyone could object to the ruling, although they legally couldn't, the judge banged his gavel and moved onto the next case. The sound traveled through the courtroom, almost as if it was someone closing shut a book, indefinitely putting a hold on Manny's life.

Manny was escorted out a side door by a bailiff, and what was left of the family solemnly made their way out the courtroom.

Dante turned his head to the sound of stiletto heels clicking down the hall. It was Naya, her hair pulled into a tight bun, and wearing a long back overcoat that extended far past her a line burgundy dress.

"Did I miss it? Is he…?" Naya stammered, nearly tripping over herself as she came to a full stop in her black lace up high heels. Looking at Dante's somber face, she knew her answer. She put her hand on Dante's shoulder. "Oh Dante…" she whispered.

Then, to Mrs. Garcia, she said, "Is there anything I can do?"

Maybe she hadn't heard the question, or maybe she had, but Dante's mother asked, "Colleges won't accept him if he has criminal charges, will they?"

"Uh…" Naya faltered, "he probably won't get a scholarship, but we can still find him a college. Maybe we can get him into the community college."

Even Naya knew that wasn't much of a reassurance, but she couldn't lie to the poor woman. A situation like this would probably be the first thing colleges would use to shorten their acceptance list.

Mrs. Garcia let out a breathy laugh, "It's funny… one of my boys is out breaking the laws, and my other died protecting them."

Dante couldn't make himself look his mother in the eye. She silently excused herself to the car, her husband following closely behind her, leaving just Dante and Naya in the empty hall.

"So, where are you going dressed like that?" Dante asked.

"Well we had this first, and then I'm signing the papers to sell the house in a few hours."

"Already?"

"Are you kidding me? A move-in ready house in that neighborhood with that school district and a couple grand knocked off the original price? What's surprising is it lasted on the market for more than three hours! But I want to check out the house one more time before I sign it off. Do you want to… come with me?"

Dante paused for a second. He'd never been to one of his houses after they'd been signed over to their owners before. He'd even forgotten to take one last look around Naya's house before he was moved to the next project, something he'd always been sure to do.

"Yeah, sure. I'll drive."

One silent car ride later, they were back at Naya's house, where their stories had first collided. Dante was greeted by an open hallway that was the center of the flow to the house. Dante ignored the spiral staircase he'd jogged up and down so many times before and moved on to the living room and kitchen.

Everything felt so familiar and yet so different from what Dante remembered. He couldn't believe this was where Alex had treated the crew with burgers every third Tuesday of the month, or where one of the guys drove off with the porty potty still attached to the back while Freddie was still inside. Dante traced his fingers over a power outlet that one of the newbies had drawn a face with, complete with a stuck out tongue and spiky hair, now forever gone and forgotten.

Dante looked around the house, and where he'd once seen class and elegance, he now only saw emptiness. Light bounced off the soft grey cabinets and warmed the dark oak hardwood floors. The house buzzed with potential, the potential to be a home, but only if it were put in the right hands.

Dante brushed his fingers against the gleaming white walls of the house, recognizing now how different they were to his own home, which bore the scars of balls played indoors, mishandling of ladders, and just random marks that no one knew (or claimed not to know) where they came from, and tattoos of red paint meant to cover such scars from the first examination of an intruding house guest. But over time, these scars had become a part of his home, and he couldn't imagine his house without them.

Perhaps that was why he'd never fixed the wobbly front porch step of his house, because without that second of instability, stepping into his house wouldn't be stepping into his home.

Dante leaned against the kitchen counter, now cleaned of any construction dust, and couldn't fathom why he'd at any point of his life, envied the people who lived in these houses. They were just plagued with as many problems as him. They were no different than him, except for the higher tax bracket.

Naya wrapped her arms around Dante from behind him and leaned her head against his back.

"Ready to go?" She asked softly.

"Yeah, one sec. Do you know who's buying the house?"

Naya readjusted herself so that she was standing next to Dante with one of her arms still wrapped around him. "Yeah, my agent told me they were this cute Asian couple expecting their second kid together. Why?"

Dante smiled at the thought of a family growing old and branding the house as their own and chuckled, "No reason. C'mon, let's go home."