Aftermath

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Aftermath Page 8

by S. W. Frank


  Nico’s answer to the moans and groans. “Be quiet. Evie and Maddy you’ll get yours back before I leave and Aaron, yours I’m keeping indefinitely.”

  “But dad, I need my phone.”

  “You need to breathe. Apparently, you don’t know how to use a cell phone, if you did you would’ve called and not Sal. You drove a car without a license and put Sal and these girls in danger. You admitted as much.” He cocked a stern eye at his son and snarled, “So, shut the hell up or find yourself oxygen deprived!”

  The kid shut up quick.

  Evangeline clasped her hands together and Madeline’s eyes widened at Nico’s gruff tone. Their brother Nico was frightening. The cuts and bruises made him scarier. Their father never spoke harshly to them. They were his angels, yet they flew the coop when he was only hours into the ground.

  Nico turned on the girls, “Maddy what happened?”

  The girl jumped at the sound of her name and appeared to almost cry. Her voice was shaky and she stuttered. “Yes…yes…yes…fratello?”

  “Something wrong with your tongue, sorellina?” 

  Aaron couldn’t stay quiet for long and opened his big-mouth, “We told you already dad.”

  The kids admired Aaron more than ever for taking one for the team.

  “Yeah, a goat. That’s the story you’re sticking with, huh?”

  They nodded in unison, “Um…yes…it’s true.”

  Alfonzo chuckled, and then put an end to the interrogation. Nico wasn’t going to get anywhere with the kids. They were sticking with the tale. Aaron was trying to step-up and act as savior. One of the girls drove and became distracted, speed, drinking, whatever made her lose control resulted in an accident and luckily they survived. Sal panicked and called his old man. That’s the summary. He was a teenager and fabricating ‘goat’ stories is what many irresponsible young people do.

  This was the ‘teachable moment’ and he’d teach their little asses an important lesson about death. It was final! “Let’s go party people, we’re taking a trip!” Alfonzo announced. He was hungry, tired and in need of loving. Unfortunately, his desires had to wait, thanks to the troublemakers!

  “Where are we going dad?” Sal’s drowsy voice inquired. 

  “On a field trip to the Museum of Consequences.”

  He didn’t tell the boy they were going to the morgue. He wanted the older ones to see the result of reckless behavior. Of course, he wasn’t letting Sal inside the building –nah, he was far too young. The reaction from his cousin’s once they saw the corpse of a teenage accident victim would serve as a deterrent in the future, at least he hoped. Besides, he wasn’t trying to traumatize Sal, but ensure he’d exercise common sense when it was time for him to drive in several years.

   

   

  CHAPTER SEVEN

   

   

   

   

  Sophie’s home was alive with the happy chatter of children and activity from the Diaz’ this afternoon. Having the Diaz’ as guests in her home was a joy after the somber days alone. Alberti’s death struck harder than expected and during the nights, she cried in her pillow, completely bereft.

  She washed the tomatoes in the sink, smiling at the young woman beside her cleaning lettuce in preparation for dinner. There was something on her mind judging by the silence and stiffness of her posture.

  “What is wrong, Selange?”

  Selange shred the lettuce in a large salad bowl and then dried her hands. “I have to tell him, Sophie. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep this secret anymore. What you’ve confided effects Alfonzo and I’m not willing to risk losing him over this. I hope you understand.”

  Sophie’s frown was not disappointment; it came from knowing the weight she’d placed upon the young woman. “I understand.”

  “Alfonzo’s starting to trust me again and this will ruin everything if he finds out I knew and didn’t tell him Sophie,” she sighed and shook her head from the internal conflict. “I can’t lie by omission.”

  “When will you tell him?”

  “Soon, very soon.” She would’ve told him this morning but he’d arrived midday with Sal looking exhausted and he’d gone to bed.

  “I see.”

  They were interrupted by the sound of heels clacking across the floor. They turned in unison to find Geovonna smiling upon approach and they inhaled her perfume next. “Ciao Mama Sophie,” she greeted in a shrill pitch before air kissing the stiff woman’s cheeks. She then turned to Selange and eyed her with a glint of jealousy. The American woman was stunning and exotic, but today her attire was rather plain. Americans!

  “Hello Geovonna,” Selange said first.

  “Um, ciao Sa-long.”

  A prankster Selange deduced and one with a jealous streak. “I understand my name’s difficult to pronounce due to your over bite, but I’ll excuse the mispronunciation because of the impediment.”

  Sophie smirked. She truly enjoyed Selange’s wit.

  Geovonna crossed her arms and cut her eyes. “I love what are you are wearing. It’s very…American.”

  Selange wanted to laugh. Couldn’t the woman have thought of a better rejoinder? Oh, how she missed Shanda. Her friend would’ve spit verbal fire and not some lame remark. “Why thank you considering it’s one of the fashion capitals of the world.”

  The woman faltered and the enhanced eyelashes bat rapidly unable to match her opponent’s quick thinking. She ‘humphed’ before turning to a smiling Sophie. “Is Giuseppe here?”

  “No Geovonna.”

  “Is he at home?”

  “I do not know. Perhaps you might call him and inquire.”

  “May we talk in private mama Sophie?”

  “You can talk here. Selange is family.”

  “This is a very delicate matter. No offense to her, but I do not wish to share.”

  And Selange didn’t want to hear. “Please Sophie, do hear the rude woman out. The kitchen’s become polluted anyway and I need fresh air. Just let me know when the stink is gone and I’ll return to help with dinner.” Then Selange exited.

  Sophie frowned. “You are a very mean-spirited woman.”

  “Am I?”

  “What is the reason you come unannounced Geovonna?”

  “To find Giuseppe.”

  “Now that you know he is not here, what more is there to speak about?”

  Geovonna surveyed her freshly manicured hands. The caviar fingernail polish was stunning. “You were happily married for a very long time to the love of your life. I only want the same thing.”

  Sophie scoffed. “When the time comes and you are married, we will revisit the conversation. In the meantime, please tell me what you want. I have guests and would like to feed them in this century.”

  “Fine. I need your help with Giuseppe.”

  Sophie laughed and leaned against the counter. “My help for what?”

  “To get him to marry me, of course!”

  A loud chuckle escaped Sophie’s mouth. “Geovonna I cannot assist. A man chooses, not his mother, besides I would never choose you for my son.”

  Geovonna’s mouth twisted into an unattractive sneer. “Perhaps, he will choose to marry me when he learns about your deception.”

  The mirth became annoyance. “You dare come in my home,” she marched in front of the girl, “and threaten me you insolent bitch!”

  “I would never threaten the mother of the man I love. You mistake what I say Mama Sophie!”

  Sophie slapped her face for the boldness. “Get out of my home. Ora!”

  Geovonna’s hand flew to her stinging cheek, although the injury was to her heart. She struck back with venom. “As you said a man chooses and not his mother. When he learns Luzo is his father and you have lied, he will turn to the woman who loved him enough to tell him the truth.”

  Sophie froze. “You would not dare!”

  “We will see!” Geovonna said and made a quick escape before the
Sophie thawed.

  Selange entered the kitchen, saw Sophie’s stricken face and hurried over. “Sophie is everything okay?”

  The voice was a whisper. “She knows about Luzo.”

  Selange’s eyes widened in shock. “She knows…how?”

  “I don’t know…I don’t know,” Sophie replied. “I don’t know.”

  “Call Giuseppe, get to him before she does Sophie. Please, do something. Please don’t let him find out from her.”

  “She will not cross me. If she does she will regret it.”

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER EIGHT

   

   

   

   

  Alfonzo grunt when something struck him in the face and he blinked awake. Sal’s arm covered his nostrils and he grumbled. They were in a king-size bed and the kid still managed to wind up on his side of the mattress, go figure?

  He pushed the boy’s arm away and stretched weary eyelids up higher to adjust to the curtained room. How long had they slept? When he snatched his watch from the nightstand, he frowned. He’d slept the entire afternoon. Shit!

  His head turned to view his son. He wasn’t little Sal anymore. Sneaking out to hang with the teens was a bold move. If anything had happened to his son…he grit his teeth…he didn’t want to think about it. Thank goodness nothing had. He decided not to tell Selange. She’d have a fit and then question the security. The boy would be on lock-down the rest of his life. Sal learned his lesson, besides despite his bad decision to sneak from the house, he did exhibit good judgment when he called his dad. 

  The cell spoke, “Lou’s calling.”

  Alfonzo slid up against the headboard and reached an arm to the mahogany top. He waited a few seconds for the electronic signal scan. He paid handsomely for the counter-surveillance technology. Anyone tapping into his cell signal or had bugs anywhere within the vicinity, he’d know. Shit worked, too. He got the go ahead then tapped the illuminated white icon on the black screen. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “They found the Russian and the motive appears to be robbery for drugs.”

  Alfonzo cleared the sleep from his throat. He smelled food. His stomach growled from the aroma like a hungry wolf. “Yeah, that’s good.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Everything’s clean as a whistle. Sidenote, that Sergio kid fenced Geo’s watch.”

  “Not surprised.”

  “He got 10G for a 200G piece.”

  “Yeah, he’s really smart. Alright thanks Lou.” Then he hung-up and watched the rolling white lights on the base of the device as it scanned then went green. Still a clear signal.

  Alfonzo fisted his eyes and yawned. He had to get moving. A late visit to Matteo was in order. First things first, though. He shook Sal awake. “Hey...get up. Shower and get dressed so we can eat.”

  The boy’s drowsy eyes opened and drool slipped from the side of his mouth. “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Feels crappy not getting eight hours of sleep, don’t it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, hijo. If you want to hang with the big boys you better get accustomed to waking up feeling like shit. Levantarse, ahora!”

  Sal bolted forward. “Okay…okay.”

  Alfonzo gripped his neck and brought the sleepy face to his chest and shook and the big-head wobbled. “I’m proud of you hijo for stepping up and taking responsibility, comprende?”

  “Sí, gracias. Does that mean I’m not in trouble anymore?”

  “Is that what you heard…let me see those eyes…were you drinking, niño?” Alfonzo joked. “I said I’m proud of you. You’re still in deep shit. You’re not getting off the hook so easy. There are no video games for a month, you little rascal.”

  “Oh man…nomijuegos!”

  “You gotta’ pay to play son, so man-up!” Alfonzo quipped and then gave the kid a shove before standing.

  Sal pulled a face. “What does that mean? Letting me off the hook and pay to play…it doesn’t make any sense!”

  Alfonzo cocked a brow in his son’s direction. These were common idiomatic expressions and the fact the boy didn’t understand proved he was still an immature kid. Sal was eight…but he’d say and eight and a half. At that age they were itching to grow up too fast.

  Alfonzo went down to the floor to start his push-ups. He attempted an explanation upon each exhalation, blowing out the words, “Whew-they’re common phrases people use –whew –you know figures of speech –whew –like break a leg doesn’t –whew –mean break a leg –whew –but good luck –whew.”

  “Oh, so letting me off the hook…um…is figurative not literal?”

  “Do you look up words in the dictionary –whew?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you know what figurative means –whew?” Alfonzo did scorpion push-ups. He liked when his body awakened and adrenalin rushed to his head. He liked knowing every part of him was alive, because he tested it each day to make sure.

  “Ummm…when you don’t really mean something, but something else.”

  “That’s good Sal –whew. What does the ‘dog ate my homework,’ really mean or infer?”

  The boy laughed, “I know that one…umm.” He crossed his legs like an Indian Chief and beamed, “I really didn’t do the homework and the dog ate it is an excuse.”

  Alfonzo smirked, “Yep,” he went down to the floor, switched into a one arm push-up. Put the other arm behind his back, straightened his legs together, aligned his head and torso then in an exhibition of his strength, went rapidly up and down without contacting the floor. He inhaled on ascent, on descent exhaled and this is when he talked, “That’s right –whew –whew –whew. It’s figurative, and represents all bad excuses, -whew –whew –whew.”

  He’d changed arms and was going up when Sal suddenly climbed his back and Alfonzo laughed, “Are you trying to break my arm?”

  “I’m helping you exercise.”

  “Yeah, how about I get on your back and help you, eh?”

  “Nope. You’re heavy.” Then Sal changed the subject. “Do I have a cousin Sergio?”

  Uh-oh the teenagers were talking. “Um-hum.”

  “Did Aaron shoot somebody to save him…is that true?”

  Alfonzo held the extra weight, elbows locked as sweat trickled from his forehead. Sal was solid for his age and Alfonzo promised to get the boy in the gym more often. The muscles in his arms burned and he went low then sprawled on the floor, “I didn’t see Aaron with a gun or shoot anybody.” Alfonzo said truthfully, although he was aware of what the boy had done. “Guns should only be in the hands of adults trained and licensed, not kids. Got that?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Good.”

  “Evangeline thinks I’m a baby because when the people broke into our house I hid.”

  “Yeah,” he tried a tactful approach, “don’t get offended by it. Afterall she did let her cousin without a license drive her car and you all crashed because of a goat, hmmm, do you think that’s really smart?”

  “No.”

  “There you go. Now who listens to someone who doesn’t have common sense, eh?”

  Sal laughed. “You know you’re right dad. She doesn’t have common sense!”

   

   

  ****

   

   

   

  Nico returned the final miniature screw to the cell phone, placed it beside its counterpart then reclined in the high back chair. The girls hadn’t breathed a word to their mother about last night and neither did Aaron. He was giving the girls their phones back, bu
t along with the instruments was a tracking device. They required supervision. He warned the guards, if there was one more incident, they’d have hell to pay.

  The youngsters little escape route was closed and from now on, if they so much as got out of line, he promised he’d return and ship their asses to boarding school until they turned eighteen.

  He stood and stuffed the phones in his pocket, retrieved his suitcase and headed downstairs to say good-bye to Bianca. Ari was packed and ready, waiting in the car with the boys. He hastened his steps. In the corridor, he glanced around, one last time, thinking how different this family’s lives were going to be without Alberti’s presence. Obviously, he was a doting father and loving husband and his absence was certain to be missed. He inhaled and his nostrils flared. He would come as often as possible to visit. This was his family and their protection an additional responsibility.

  “Nico?”

  He spun around to see one of the girls. She must have recently got out of bed. This was Madeline, the quietest of the pair. He could tell them apart. Twins often can. “Yeah, Madeline.”

  “We’re sorry.”

  Was she crying? He put down his suitcase and walked to the girl, “Come here, you.” He dwarfed her and pat her petite spine as he hugged her tight. “Listen to your mother. Be good.”

  “I wish you could stay, fratello,” she sobbed.

  His lips pressed tightly together as the girl gripped the side of his jacket. When she finally stopped crying he spoke, “I’m only a call away. I put my number in the phones. You can call if you need to talk or just want a big brother, how about that?”

           She sniffled, “Okay.”

  He kissed the top of her hair, reached inside his pocket for the phones and placed them in her hand. “No talking on the phone and driving or any of that nonsense, capisce?”

  She nodded.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Alright, tell her I said bye and I’ll come soon to see how you’re doing, alright?”

  Another nod.

  Nico tipped her chin up with a finger, “Civediamopresto, sorellina. Ciao,” then gave her forehead a lingering kiss. He’d be back. This was his sister. He’d lost Vincent and gained double siblings. Yes, he would never distance himself emotionally from family again. They were the anchors keeping him from becoming a lost man. He stepped away, gave her a reassuring smile as he picked up his suitcase and went to say his farewell to the widow.

 

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