Thick As Blood

Waking up with that kind of headache made Cecelia want to roll over and go back to sleep. But from where her room was, he could hear nothing but the band rehearsing. So she sat up, and with a painful rush of blood from her head she made her way to the bathroom.

She found herself trying to remember the night before while she attempted to climb into a tub of hot water. She added oil, and planned on soaking in the water until it turned cold.

She had only begun to relax when she heard a noise coming from outside the door. She was startled at first, thinking someone must have broken in again. But she reminded herself it could be a number of people that have business with her. She wrapped herself in a towel and pulled her wet hair to one shoulder – and before she opened the door she pulled out a pistol. It was small, a woman’s gun, Tory had given it to her, she usually kept it near her and now she realized it was all she had left of him.

Cecelia opened the door and pointed the gun straight ahead until she could see the face of the person sitting in her room.

“That’s no way to greet your mother.” Gillian said. She had a smile on her face as she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Mother? What mother? I don’t see one.” Cecelia said. She shut the door and returned the pistol to its hiding place before she swung the door open again.

“I came to talk.” Gillian said kindly.

“Well… I’m not in the mood, I have a bit of a headache from last night.”

“Celebrating perhaps? I saw your performance… it was marvelous. Reminded me of when I was your age. Although I didn’t have quite the body you do – after having two kids n’ all.”

“Thank you.” Cecelia told her, not actually caring. She stood against the wall looking at Gillian who sat there looking up at her. Cecelia couldn’t help but notice the expensive looking dress, shoes, and makeup.

“I saw the ones in New York too.” Gillian told her.

“You didn’t. I rarely saw you.” Cecelia said quickly.

‘I visited – as often as I could.” Gillian admitted.

“You would visit once a year, around my birthday if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, I tried always to bring you gifts and surprise you.” Gillian said smiling from the retrospect. “Every year, since you were six.”

“I always remembered looking forward to your visits… until I grew up and realized they were out of pity. And six, the year my father pulled me out of the home, did you have something to do with that.” Cecelia asked, actually curious.

“I did tell your father where I’d left you – he begged me to. I had no idea… he’d be put in prison.” Gillian said adjusting her dress, “When you were six it just happened to be the year I came into free time...time for you, Jimmy was eight… and he had really taken a liking to Nucky.”

“Right, Jimmy. I hear you’re a grandmother too.” Cecelia said, knowing her mother would hate that nickname.

“Yes, little Tommy, and then there’s Angela, his mother. She’s ever so pretty. She had Tommy while Jimmy was away at war, precious thing waiting for your husband to come back. I didn’t even know he was alive until he just showed up one night after a rehearsal.” Gillian watched Cecelia become slightly jealous of her gloating over her only son. “I wanted you to know… that I never… chose Jimmy over you. If… if Jimmy’s father had known what had happened in New York, he would’ve done something… something to hurt me and Jimmy.”

“Do you pick the worst men everywhere you go mother?”

“I seem to have retained that talent.” She said. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t have spent more time together. By the time I was on my own you were growing up, and wouldn’t speak to me.”

“I had a little bit of a grudge.” Cecelia admitted.

“I would’ve loved to have been your mother.”

“I waited for you to be. You should’ve taken me away from him sooner,” Cecelia said referring to her father. “You should never have brought him to see me, never let him take me home.”

“What was I supposed to do? Keep a father from his daughter?” she asked.

“You were supposed to be my mother! You were supposed to notice the bruises… you were just…” Cecelia said. “Supposed to keep me safe.”

“I… I know I should’ve been around more.” Gillian admitted.

“You shoud’ve picked. Since you chose Jimmy you should’ve just left me in New York – If you had never strung me along… If I had never hoped in the first place that you’d take me back to Atlantic City with you, maybe I woulda’ turned out better.”

“But… you were my daughter. I never wanted to give you up… I had no choice.”

“Please leave. I’m sick of hearing this.” Cecelia told her. Gillian had started to dab at tears in her eyes. She quietly stood and left… leaving Cecelia cold and shaking in her towel. Cecelia quickly wiped away a single tear that was on her cheek before she went back to the tub. The water was now cold… She drained the water and quickly rinsed her hair before leaving for a cup of coffee.
__________________________________________________________

Cecelia later found the Nucky Thompson had sent her a note – a private car would be waiting for her the next morning to take her to the service where they would bury Tory. Her heart sank when she realized that tomorrow she’d have to admit that he really was gone – that it’d be the last time she saw him.

Cecelia had no one to notify. He had no parents, no family except for Chalky. There wasn’t really anyone to tell about his death, no one for her to really cry to except for a warm bottle of whiskey. No one cared about and orphaned colored boy.

Cecelia half wondered that if she hadn’t chosen to come here, that if she had fallen and pointed to Chicago, if things would’ve been different. Regardless, Tory would’ve visited his only family at some point – but could his death have been avoided? Cecelia couldn’t help but momentarily blame herself. But she knew that Tory would’ve chastised her for doing so. He always believed there was reason to things, even death. So Cecelia tried to, for his honor, to think like him, like perhaps there was a purpose for his death.



The next day Cecelia wandered down the plot cemetery where most African American men and women were buried. She was only half listening to the preacher pray for those four men – her and the man that drove her there were the only white people there. And if Cecelia hadn’t been sitting next to Chalky, she would’ve received more than a few odd looks.

Her eyes stayed dry while they buried him, the grass wasn’t very green, and most of the headstones there were made of wood or poorly carved stone. It did make her slightly happy to see that the four headstones looked of quality craftsmanship. Something that Chalky or perhaps Nucky were responsible for.

She left the funeral that day feeling that if she died, even less people would be at her funeral. Both her and Tory had been alone most of their lives and it seemed that the outcasts tried to stick together, but now she didn’t even have him.

She saw Nucky leaving as she was returning, and she surprisingly found a look of grief for her. He had seemed rushed or she would’ve stopped him – but instead she found herself winding down the rouge colored carpets feeling sorry for herself. She knew that in time, she might forget that she felt so alone, but for now she had a couple days before another performance, and if she wanted she could spend them drinking.
__________________________________________________________

The spot light was hot and blinding. Cecelia was standing under it, rehearsing a song with the band, one she knew well – and one that they didn’t. She was half bored waiting for them to catch the tempo, and regulate the beat. The lights made her feel like she was sitting inside and oven waiting for the timer to ding. But the light was something Cecelia had gotten used to when she was young. Gillian had taken Cecelia out for her seventh birthday - where Gillian let Cecelia watch from backstage the marvelous show before her. She watched her mother perform, her friends, even that very night Cecelia had danced to the orchestral tune that everyone heard, and since that night Cecelia had never been far from performing. Cecelia would have friends in her orphanage act out parts with her, and they’d put on talent shows for parents.

Cecelia never admitted to herself that the avant-garde performances reflected her need for her mother to want her. She had picked the same profession, hoping that Gillian would relate, that Gillian would want her. But when her mother never came for her – she put everything into performing. So much that it became her career. The moment she was eighteen she left the orphanage and proceeded to dance and sing in downtown New York, eventually finding herself a home at the Hotel Elysée. If Rothstein hadn’t interfered with her time there, she’s still be on three nights a week with familiar faces. But instead she had to learn knew ones – and not only did that include the audience, but these people that were family.

She hadn’t spoken to Gillian since that day in her dressing room. A long time ago, when Cecelia was only a baby, Gillian left her, in a bad place and all alone. However when Cecelia turned six Gillian and her father showed up at the orphanage and took her away. Cecelia being so young was more than happy to go – she felt like her family was finally together and that she could live a normal life. But a few weeks later Gillian returned to Atlantic City and Cecelia was left once again in a bad place, alone, and with her father.

Gillian later showed up once a year around her birthday, expecting Cecelia to act like she had only been gone a day. And Cecelia being a naïve child gave in and loved her mother every moment she had with her. The summer she left her fathers home was the summer she stopped wishing her mother would return, that was the summer that Cecelia realized no one loved her, and she was only twelve.

Gillian would still visit every year around her birthday, but the visits would be shorter, and the conversations became colder. And once Cecelia left the orphanage – she wouldn’t see her mother for another three years. But that was where she was now, with Gillian, and Jimmy. Her very disconnected family.

Once the band was finished Cecelia slipped off the stage barefoot and found that waiting for her was Jimmy Darmody. She looked at him, she knew he was there; he knew she was there. It was obvious standing before one another, yet each of them only looked. They both did the same thing; they both studied each other’s features looking for a sibling resemblance,

“Sorry about your friend.” Jimmy said. “Klan’s everywhere these days, all bastards, one after the next.”

Cecelia could see that her older brother had quite the baby face. Even though he was older, she seemed more distinguished. She ignored his apology not wanting to think of something that made her sad.

“How was New York?” she asked. “I miss the place.”

“It’s not bad, it’s getting cold.” He said. “But uh… Truthfully, I came here cause of ma’. Says you won’t talk to her.”

“Trying to keep my distance, keeps me from saying things I’ll regret.” Cecelia said walking past him. She slipped through the heavy backstage door and wandered upstairs while Jimmy slowly followed.

“She means well.” Jimmy called ahead. “Trying to talk n’ all.”

“Right, Jimmy. She does, but I don’t and I’d rather not say more hurtful things.”

“She says you two have always had a bit of a problem.”

“We’ve never had a “thing” she was never around, she never called, never kept in touch.” Cecelia turned and walked down the hall, still hearing Jimmy trying to talk to her.

“Well she had a life here. You know that.”

“And I had no place to go.” Cecelia said. Jimmy was now walking up to Cecelia as she stood in the doorway of her room. The small chat slightly interested her. She watched the way that he limped down the hallway, with the fitted suit and fedora; he did look sort of menacing. He paused, and lit up a cigarette, and took a long drag before saying:

“She tries.” Jimmy said. “I think for how quickly she had to grow up – she didn’t do too bad on me.”

“You seem to have turned out just fine.” Cecelia said. “Wife and kid, money, a home, and a mother. I woulda turned out fine too.”

“She says you had your dad for a while.” Jimmy told her.

“I did. Six years.” Cecelia said.

“You had a home then.”

“I had a prison.” Cecelia stated, “Did… she explain how that came to be?” Cecelia asked. “Did she happened to mention because she was the one that turned me over to the orphanage that she had to confirm that Dan Herringston was my father? And after a few days with both of them she left me… alone with him.”

“So you got your father, I never had one of those. Seems like you should be grateful.”

“Dan’s in prison Jimmy. He got sent there when I was twelve – no help from your mother.”

“Why would you need her help.”

“She visited me Jimmy, about once a year, and there are certain things… a mother should just know about her child.” Cecelia couldn’t quite handle explaining her past to Jimmy. She didn’t let others in easily, and she didn’t want some sympathy case.

“She couldn’t be there for you, she could barely be there for me. Not to mention my father would’ve had a fit if he knew what had happened in New York.”

“I will never forgive her for leaving me with my father, and I will never thank her for dragging me along hoping that one day she was gonna decide to be my mother and take me home with her.”

She took the cigarette from his fingertips and flicked off the building ash. Cecelia took a long drag and held Jimmy’s gaze before he had the stomach to talk.

“I just know… she would’ve done better if she could have.” Jimmy told her as Cecelia handed back the cigarette. Cecelia quietly stepped back and began to shut the door before he asked another question: “And what’s with you and Richard by the way? I don’t want my guy driving all day and staying up guarding you.”

Cecelia opened the door back up and leaned into the doorway. “I like Richard.”

“Yeah well Richard’s mine, you can’t drag around my associate.”

“I only made a request, and he accepted.”

“Of course he did, any man would accept the job of standing outside your dressing room – look at you.”

“Look at me? What am I? Some hussy you think sleeps with three guys a night?” Cecelia could slap him, and she wanted to just the way he had slapped her when they’d first met. “You honestly think that I asked him to do this with the promise of sleeping with him?”

“Isn’t that what you do?” Jimmy questioned her, “Seduce men onstage? When they get a little drunk and handsy do you want to call Richard to save you?”

This time Cecelia did slap him. She knocked the cigarette clean from his teeth.

“Fuck you, Jimmy Darmody.” She spat at him. “You know nothing about me!”

Jimmy being the rough man that he was firmly grabbed her jaw and arms to keep her from flailing about.

“Stay away from my family, and my friends. That includes my mother.” He let her go, and Cecelia looked at him in disgust. She rubbed her now sore jaw and quickly shut the door and locked it, in case Jimmy had anything else he wanted to say.
_________________________________________________________

Jimmy found Tommy waiting for him on the steps of the house. He was playing with his shoelace, trying to tie it until he saw Jimmy. Tommy stood up to run over to his dad nearly tripping as he went.

“Whoa whoa little buddy.” Jimmy said. “You can’t go runnin’ with untied laces.”

“But I need help.” Tommy said.

“Well here.” Jimmy said. He bent down even though his leg hurt him, and tied the shoelace that fell over onto the sidewalk. Gillian was on the porch, she had been watching Tommy, and waiting for Jimmy..

“So? Did you talk to her?” Gillian asked, standing up.

“Where’s Ang, and Richard?”

“Inside. Cooking dinner.” Gillian said, still waiting for the answer to her first question.

“Yes, I spoke to her.” Jimmy said picking up Tommy. “Told her not to come near us.”

“Jimmy how could you?” Gillian asked, she was concerned. “What’d you do?”

“Told her to stay away.” Jimmy said again. “She’s no good.”

“Damnit Jimmy, she is your sister, and I don’t care that you don’t like her.”

“A sister daddy?” Tommy said. Jimmy looked at him at smoothed his hair before he turned back to Gillian.

“She obviously hates you.” Jimmy said. “Doesn’t give a damn.”

“I know she needs me Jimmy. I know she’s mad, I was just hoping-“

“And you, you’re staying away from her too.” Jimmy said, pointing at Richard. He had come out to see why Gillian had raised her voice. Angela was close behind him.

“What’d Jimmy do?” Angela asked Gillian, unaware of the current predicament.

“He did something stupid.”

“Stupid? I told her to leave us alone. She’s not my sister, and she’s a bitch for a daughter. I’m not going to call her my sister. And you’re not going to give her the time of day.”

“She’s my flesh and blood Jimmy…” Gillian was angry with him. She had wanted to reconcile as much as she could with Cecelia. She did love her, she always had. But She was so young and arrogant, by the time Gillian was able to take on her responsibilities, Cecelia already hated her. Jimmy took Tommy inside the house, Richard followed and Angela stayed to consol Gillian in her upset manner.



Jimmy set Tommy down by some of his toys so he could play before dinner was finished. Jimmy was angry that his mother was mad at him for what he’d done. He always defended his mother, she had always appreciated that.

“I took the job because Nucky asked me to.” Richard said. “Mhm, I don’t mind the work.”

“You can work all day Richard, doesn’t leave you any time to sleep.”

“Mm, only two nights.”

“She’s just a whore Richard. Leave her be.”

“Both nights I sat outside her room she never invited anyone in, asked for anyone, or looked for anyone. I’ve seen men, type of guys with money, looks, and she doesn’t even care – she spends her nights alone.”

“How do you think she gets paid?” Jimmy asked him, trying to prove him wrong.

“She makes money, mm, from the men. They just give it to her.”

“Exactly, that’s what whores do. Nobody just gives away money, unless they expect something in return Richard.”

Jimmy walked away from him, ending the conversation. Richard would’ve liked to prove him wrong somehow. Jimmy wasn’t seeing what she was actually like, and Richard couldn’t help but wonder what she’d done to make him so angry.

Richard could only remember the fear in her eyes the night that he saved her from a terrible fate. He remembered how she looked at him with a smile, the only smile, while several other men were begging for her attention. And when she looked at him he couldn’t help but feel she saw the Richard that he had always been – but lost. The way she saw him, and the way she acted were so accepting of him. She didn’t seem afraid, never once had he caught her staring… and somehow the word: ‘beautiful’ rang in his ears, over, and over again.