Dutch Read Online Free PDF Page A

come to value above all else. She also knew
     that he would come to despise her, if she didn’t let him go.
    Delores traveled off in the near future to one day… their wedding day. She imagined herself in a white flowing gown and her
     soldier standing so tall and handsome in his uniform. She knew that day would never come. The house they would live in for
     the rest of their lives would never be built, and the life they would share they would never have, and she resigned herself
     to the reality of the situation. It was over.
    Tears streamed from both of them, silently. She kneeled with him on the floor, took his tear-soaked chin into her hand, and
     lifted it to look into his eyes. Their last words were hers, “I love you.”
    They parted at the entrance to Pennsylvania Station in New York City. She watched him disappear from her life in the sea of
     people moving to and fro through the terminal. She waited until she could no longer see him, then returned to the cab awaiting
     her.
    She never heard from him again. He never wrote, he never came back. She never had the chance to tell him she was pregnant.
     She never had the chance to tell him he had a son. A son that she named after him, Bernard James, Jr.

CHAPTER THREE

ROBERTO’S PIZZERIA
    T his court stands in recess for lunch until one o’clock,” the judge said, banging his gavel loudly as he stood.
    The courtroom hummed with the cacophony of multiple conversations being carried on as people filed out. Michael Glass asked
     Dutch if he needed to see him before he went to lunch.
    “Enjoy,” is all Dutch replied. He flashed Glass a reassuring smile. As Glass walked out he noticed that there were a lot of
     old women in the courthouse.
Unusual for this kind of trial,
he thought to himself. He shrugged them off as probably the mothers of Dutch’s many victims hoping and praying for justice.
Not if I can help it, old ladies,
thought Glass with a devilish grin on his face. He walked out, with Dutch walking slowly behind him, taking in the many faces
     in the crowd until he stopped on one in particular who was still seated in the back of the courtroom. He looked again, placing
     the familiar face he hadn’t seen in years. It was Mrs. Piazza. He smiled sincerely as he approached her.
    “Mrs. P, is that you?” Dutch asked, knowing that it was.
    “Of course it is. Whazza matter, you tryin’ to say I’m getting old?” Mrs. Piazza asked as she stood up and hugged Dutch tightly.
    “You don’t look a day older than the day I last saw you,” he lied, looking at all the makeup she wore trying to cover the
     many wrinkles life had dealt over the years. She playfully hit him.
    “And you still can’t lie, I see,” she said to him.
    They shared a light chuckle.
    “It’s been a while. How are you doing?” she asked with lines of concern on her brow.
    “When have you known me to worry, huh?” Dutch responded, and she could tell he wasn’t worried at all. But she was. “I didn’t
     expect you to be here,” he said, happy she was.
    “I didn’t expect you to be here, either,” she joked. “How’s your mother?”
    “Like you, worrying too much,” Dutch answered.
    “Things ain’t the same, Dutch, not since—” Her voice broke off and Dutch quickly cut in to comfort her.
    “Nothing’s changed, Mrs. P, trust me, really. Okay?”
    Just then, one of Dutch’s boys walked up.
    “Give me a minute.” Dutch spoke in a tone letting the guy know he needed privacy as he turned his back to him and focused
     on Mrs. Piazza.
    “You sure you okay? Can I take you somewhere?”
    “No. No, thank you, I’m driving. I just wanted to see, to see if you needed anything,” Mrs. Piazza told him.
    “You know what I need. One of your old-fashioned Italian feasts, huh? After this is all over, I want some chicken française,
     fettuccini alfredo, the stewed vegetables with the potatoes, and some of your homemade lasagna. Oh, and of course, a pizza.”
    They both laughed,