DiPrinanio's Stand

By Jim Caldwell

At nineteen, Chase Mullen leaves his small town home in rural Pennsylvania in search of himself, traveling throughout the west, working odd jobs to survive, staying with friends he makes along the way, and ends up in New York City to make his fortune on Wall Street. But the nine-to-five stressful dealing on the floor of the stock exchange only intensifies the yearning for something he cannot yet identify.
Finding a birthday card, unknowingly dropped in the parking lot outside a Starbucks, he reads the inspiring message over and over. It becomes his life’s guiding creed. With the help of a new friend, he trains and becomes an EMT in the heart of the city and his life, as he sees it, begins. In time he becomes infatuated with Suzanne, a young woman working at DiPrinanio’s Fruit Market in Brooklyn, who is in New York aspiring to a musical theater arts career on Broadway. They soon discover what they share in common, including growing up just ten miles apart.
A whimsical, budding romance ensues, complicated only by a dishonest relationship she struggles to end with someone else. As their love grows Chase confirms to himself the conviction he has always held “that he would definitely know real love if or when it ever came his way"... until he is shot during a carjacking and everything changes.
“DiPrinanio’s Stand” is a story of young love in search of hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Caldwell
• Release date: Jan 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310051814

Jim Caldwell

In 2003, Jim joined a local writer's group for the enjoyment of sharing and critiquing his writing with others. Through various short stories, exercises and challenges, the experience led to the fulfillment of long held dream: to write a novel. He has since written four, three of which are published through Smashwords.com.Jim writes with his heart, putting on paper emotions that people experience, live and sometimes celebrate every day. He lives in Western Pennsylvania with his wife, two birds and a cat.

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DiPrinanio’s Stand

Copyright 2014 Jim Caldwell

Published by Jim Caldwell at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Treasure the Intersections

Table of Contents

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

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

About the Author

Connect with the Author

PART I

For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin, real life. -Father Alfred D’Souza-

Chapter One

No one knew that Chase had observed her for a couple months now, hanging around the fruit store since he first saw her working there and his heart did a back flip within his chest.

Take it from me, he said, bouncing a plump one in his left hand as though weighting it, these red delicious are the best.

Suzanne ignored the slightly taller than her gentleman to her right, who also was toying with the apples from the top of the pyramid in front of DiPrinanio’s. Oblivious to any of the other shoppers around her at the outdoor stand, she grappled with the thought that it was the last place she wanted to be this Saturday morning.

Nothing alleviated the problem of being brutally awakened by the throbbing in her temples. Not the familiar licks on her cheek from Kin (short for ‘Pumpkin’), the tabby cat with the uneven blotches of white on each ear, wanting the customary morning meal of soft food. Christine had bought her the kitten when she first moved away so her baby sister wouldn’t be ‘fraid’ in the big city. Not the quiet beep announcing the text message on her cell phone from Mandy declaring hey, girlfriend! It’s a great sunny morning. If you are awake, meet me for a latte in forty minutes at Starbucks. And especially not the five one-hundred-dollar bills her boyfriend left on the small table in the foyer when he left the night before with the note that we’ll talk some more.

To be honest, every place was the last place Suzanne wanted to be in this frame of mind. It was simply a matter that the splitting headache, which would not allow her to remain asleep nor give her the consciousness to plan something more remedial, forced her to get up and follow her weekend custom of visiting the fruit market on the avenue.

They’re my favorite.

Suzanne was annoyed. I beg your pardon?

Red delicious apples. They’re my favorite. Especially this time of year, you know, for pies. He caught her painful but searching look, her furrowed brow and the dark circles around her eyes. For hot apple pie, with lots of ice cream like you see at carnivals, he continued as though pie by itself was not enough of a clue.

Saying nothing with words, but everything with a peeved stare, Suzanne edged away. Right now, she had absolutely no tolerance whatsoever for eating anything, nor picnics, nor people and particularly not smiling, irritating strangers. She was there today by habit, only because she was fearful the walls of her apartment would fall in on her. Even the most spacious apartment off Park Avenue, even the most decorated walls of given artwork from places around the world where Daryl traveled in his career, had suddenly taken on a crushing force like an industrial can recycler in her time of depression. There was no choice but to be at DiPrinanio’s, until she tired enough to go back to a heavily shaded, dark bedroom with an aspirin-induced stupor.

Suzanne aimlessly moved inside the store past the brown potatoes and squash and pretended to survey the kiwi next to the grapes. Besides, the sparse overhead fluorescents were less brilliant than the aggravating sunshine outside.

Mandy knew the routine and stood beside her.

Hey, cha’s get my text?

Yeah.

Well?

Mandy fluffed the left side of her hair, as was her incessant custom when she prodded for answers. Want to go shopping, girlfriend? I saw a sale on the shirts that Jeff likes to wear, and I think I want to get a couple and put them away for his birthday. You know the ones with the color stripes but solid white collars and… and…

As usual, she rambled.

I know it’s way too early to buy for his birthday in August, and he’ll probably find them long before that anyways, but I still want to get them, and maybe I’ll also find something nice for me because I need some blouses for work and I don’t know, maybe we’ll even grab a movie later after we eat and…and …

Ah, no. I don’t think so.

"Oh, come on. I texted Lil and she said she can meet us and it’s a great day to roam the stores and I really want to see The Big Wedding with DeNiro and Keaton that’s out now if you guys are interested and…and ..."

No, I don’t feel like it. I have a migraine and I think I’m going back to the apartment to lie down.

Hey, come on. It’ll go away. Pop a couple Advil’s, take a long shower and I’ll meet you at your place after I run this produce home and put it away. You’ll be okay, and besides, girlfriend, you and I haven’t done anything together for ages and it’s definitely been a long, long time since the three of us hung together and I’m beginning to think you don’t like me anymore and …and …

Mandy was always bubbling over, rarely completing a sentence with a period but often connecting random thoughts with two ands and no ending.

Suzanne squeezed her eyes closed, then barked at the persistence.

No!

Mandy pulled her face away.

I’m serious! I just don’t feel good and I don’t want to do anything. I’ll call you later today.

But as fast as she snarled, Suzanne likewise relented at how blunt she was and reached for Mandy’s hand.

Sorry.

Her best friend acquiesced to the reality on Suzanne’s face.

Okay. Be that way. Catch you later, girlfriend.

Mandy did not mean it the cold, calculating way it sounded and Suzanne knew it. As she scurried away, she waved the four fingers on her left hand towards Suzanne, which was also her proverbial parting gesture. "Hey, Jeff wants to know if you and Daryl are still interested in seeing Avenue Q at the Golden with us the beginning of August? I have to get the tickets soon, you know, to get the early discount and all, and it could easily be the story of your life now, you know … and …and…"

Her hands mimicked her words in mid-air as she backtracked out of the automatic glass door.

She did not wait for an answer.

None was given.

Although, musicals were the love of Suzanne’s heart, she registered no reaction, good or bad, to the mention of the whimsical play.

However, it did resemble her dreams. Like Suzanne, the main character was Princeton, a bright-eyed college grad who comes to New York City with big dreams and a tiny bank account.

DiPrinanio’s market was not super crowded this morning. Yet there were plenty of patrons to have to weave and dodge through to get to a particular destination. The red-delicious young man did just that, zigzagging past Mandy.

I could never warm up to kiwi. Although, I’ve only really tried it once. What about you?

Suzanne looked directly at the man who initially hit on her, and this time he invaded her space a little bit too much to avoid. His lamebrain smile added to her nausea. She made a halted dash away in the direction of Tony, who she knew would intervene if the guy tried any funny business.

Please! Turning her back, she shot over her shoulder towards her unwanted suitor. Just leave me alone!

Evident to all surrounding ears, her harsh tone defied the use of the word, please.

Chase backed away to another vegetable stand, in no way discouraged by the rejection or disapproving eyes from other shoppers.

Tony DiPrinanio caught her in his arms.

Hey, my little Suzie. How ya doin’? He hugged her causing her face to contort in pain, although the round little Italian did not see it.

Okay, Papa T. Just tired this morning.

The admirer smiled at hearing her so familiar with the owner, calling him by a nickname. Little did he know that anyone who regularly patronized the store called Anthony Martino DiPrinanio by the letter, T, short for Tony. He was the third generation proprietor, having inherited the fruit store from his father in the seventies who inherited it from his father in ‘49. Among the three of them, DiPrinanio’s Fruit & Vegetable Stand was in the same spot on Vanderbilt Street for almost seventy-six years. Anyone within thirty miles, who ate produce of any kind, shopped at DiPrinanio’s. And anyone who was a regular simply called Tony, T.

It was only Suzanne that added the Papa since she once told Tony that he reminded her so much of her grandfather – on her mother’s side – (Tony specifically remembered how she emphasized that it was her maternal grandfather for some reason or other). He loved the title bestowed from the gentle lips of this sweet twenty-six year old who showed up in front of his apples outside for the first time a year and a half ago.

People from all parts of Ney York City jumped off the Prospect Expressway to frequent DiPrinanio’s in the Italian neighborhood of Brooklyn. They came not just for the darn good fresh produce that Tony prided himself on, and was widely acclaimed, but they always got more for the price of their bags. They got a firm handshake on the good news that their son made the varsity football team at the high school, or a hug and a complimentary fruit basket because someone’s daughter had given birth to the first grandchild a day or so ago.

Younger patrons got words of encouragement on the toughness of college courses, or maybe even a firm word of caution not to make the same youthful mistakes that everyone eventually does. Everyone loved Tony. Most of the patrons called him T; Suzanne called him, Papa T.

Thus, nostalgia, rather than affection, initially bonded her and Tony when she came to New York for musical theater. He took to her immediately and Suzanne even worked for him for several months while establishing her first apartment around the corner on 20th Street above the cleaners.

When she moved up to Daryl’s plush place on E31st street in Manhattan near the Morgan Library & Museum, Tony was not on-board with the whole situation, but he was only an employer, a new found friend, not her father or grandfather whose advice might be heeded, or not! Being who he was, however, Tony had firmly expressed his feelings, and Suzanne respectfully disregarded his opinion as not understanding how right it felt and how exhilarated she was with her new love.

Despite the wretched hangover from the chilled bottles of Brane Cantenac wine the night before, it was the needed touch of Papa T that drew her to the stand this morning. Even though she was embarrassed to have him see her so dejected, she spontaneously got the 22A transit down there to see the man who, although he resembled one of the golden pears he sold, nonetheless was the grandfather figure she craved in this time of regret.

You don’t look so good, Suzie.

He hugged her again.

Everythin’ ‘kay?

Yeah, Papa. Just tired. I got a headache and maybe getting a bug or something.

It’s the time of the year, my little Suzie. Rainy spring nights and warmer days give us that stuff. The dumpy, fruit peddler was wiser than that. These were only opening words to see if she would share the real problem. It would give him a further opportunity to comfort and console.

Rolling her neck, Suzanne laid her head on his shoulder as Tony pulled her closer. For a brief moment she rested, blocking out the rustle of people jostling around them and customers touching Tony’s back with the familiar hellos. There she rested like the little girl from Nanticoke, PA, who limped across the back yard to Papa Channing’s house when she fell over their neighbor Chad’s bike out front and racked her knee, or when she got her first and only C in middle school and was devastated by the honest teacher, or when her first crush in high school found Melanie Stubbs more attractive and told her so.

Papa Channing always empathized. Although they never really talked about it, he knew and she knew why she never cried on her dad’s shoulders. All Joe Hatte ever did to his youngest daughter was tell her she would never be as talented as her sister. And Papa’s daughter, Suzanne’s mom, wasn’t strong enough to confront the dad for his unequal affection towards their two children. When Joe walked out on them in Suzanne’s junior year, she felt only relief.

A rushed little woman, also Italian, hurried toward them.

Tony! Gardners called. The bananas are going to be late again Monday morning. -- Oh, Hi, Suzanne. She touched her head, too many drivers out sick and he’s doubling up again.

How late, Angie?

Eight-thirty.

Oh, that’s not so bad. And, besides, it’s Monday. It’s not a heavy day.

Angelina ran the office for Tony, scheduling everything from the wholesalers to the high school kids stocking the produce. She had been with him for years and made a few spaghetti lunches for Suzanne when she worked there. Angie and Tony were not related but they might as well have been since they shared so many old country traditions. Tony’s wife, Carmina, loved her like a sister.

The young man at the tomato cart smiled broadly at what he overheard.

Suzanne. What a beautiful name for such a beautiful person.

Having not purchased anything yet, or even gathered any fruit, he maneuvered to get as close as possible without angering her again. Everyone knows it’s not polite to listen in on another’s conversation, but something overpowered him about this girl, even in her sullied look, and he felt driven to connect with her in the slightest of ways.

Chase Mullen always allowed his feelings to control his actions towards women. Friends told him that his open-book attitude is what forever got his heart broken. But he knew what they didn’t about him. He always convinced himself that he was one of those rare souls who would definitely know real love if or when it ever came his way.

Chase! Chase Mullen. Where have you been?

It was Sandy Birchino, a cocktail waitress with whom someone from work had fixed him up for a blind date. She just about blew his cover as many heads turned with the loud greeting. Fortunately, Suzanne was too distracted to notice that the perceived flirter was still nearby.

You said you would call again. I’m waiting, swirling her head like a taunting taskmaster.

Ah, been very busy, Chase stammered, trying to keep her from being so loud and spacey. Working all different kinds of shifts and just haven’t gotten around to it.

It wasn’t true. Sandy wasn’t a match for him. A meaningful relationship between the two of them would never flourish because of her clinging need to have a man, any man. He had no intention of ever calling her again. Chase knew it immediately and only went out the second time to be nice.

It was the longest night of his life.

Happily, she had a mother ready to cash out at the register beckoning her.

Come to the club some night.

Sure.

The problem was that being struck with Suzanne was the fifth or sixth – no one was counting, especially not Chase -- time he was convinced, excluding Sandy of course, that this is her and let that radical emotion commandeer his common sense. Rebounds from relationships (that were all supposed to be it!) were as familiar to Chase and handled with the same cavalier challenge as the rebounds off the boards in some pick-up game of basketball at the station. However, he would not be deterred from being smitten this time.

Maybe you need more sleep, honey. Up late last night, huh?

Very.

Tony caught a lingering sour smell on the tips of her long hair from the third trip to the toilet bowl during the night. She had not showered.

Papa T was positive it was not a touch of flu and took a chance.

Daryl?

Suzanne pulled away quickly and blurted out, no!

Composing herself immediately, despite the pounding in her ears, she softened. No I just got caught by too much wine last evening.

It was like a confession of sorts.

I generally don’t drink and we were having a great time talking, and listening to music, and laughing, and well, I think I had far too much.

The story was somewhat true. She did have too much to drink. And it did help to explain her embarrassment of being so disheveled.

But there was no laughing or music.

And there was more than enough talking or better described as arguing.

Afterwards Suzanne was totally alone in the dark, crying.

Hidden by the large stack of cantaloupes, which wasn’t easy since the six-foot-two Chase had to crouch down, he heard the reason for Suzanne apparent distress and realized she was spoken for.

However, it never stopped him before, until he knew the full story.

Lately he missed her; had no idea that she was not longer employed by Tony and it was only an impulsive whim that caused him to go that morning in hopes of seeing her. He had waited for an opening and, when he spotted her, decided that today was the chosen day to talk to her.

But it wasn’t going so well.

Tony, himself, had not paid much attention to his new found customer; always there more for Suzanne than the few items he would buy.

Hearing the happy story of last night with Daryl, however, hardly discouraged Chase. And seeing no ring on her third finger, left hand, he only knew that his insides were spellbound by her beauty, her softness, her eyes, her voice, her sleek figure, her everything.

Others would perceive it as stalking someone. To Chase, it was following his heart.

Four older people stood beside Suzanne at the bus stop within spitting distance of the outside stand. Totally lost in thought, she rehashed her conversation with Papa in her mind together with phrases and remorseful words from the night before.

I’m so ashamed that Papa saw me like this.

She weaved back and forth, almost delirious, bumping into one particular woman who was rummaging through her purse for her free senior citizen’s pass.

Suzanne offered no apology.

It was not like her.

Good God! I’m such a fool. I hate myself

Her head swirled with contradictions: love you. Take care of you … forever ... we’ll talk some more.

It was too much stress for anyone’s mental health.

Others congregated, waiting for the bus. The sidewalk swelled with people, many stopping at Tony’s place after visiting other outside venues along the way. Taxis beeped and swerved in and out of lines of cars. The