Affliction

by S. W. Frank

  “Your famiglia, they lie as well?”

  “All the time.”

  “No?”

  “Sí,” she said and then took another sip of the wine. For some reason she had begun to loosen up. “My sister says I can sing. Lie.”

  “Sing for me, por favore,” he asked and then leaned back in the bolted seat.

  “Your ears will bleed. If there was a piano I could play for you instead, that is more pleasing, believe me.”

  His eyes caressed her face.

  A soft woman.

  Intelligent.

  Talented.

  By her speech and carriage, he discerned something he missed before, she was also guarded.

  “Do you have children, bella?” he asked.

  Her face flushed in embarrassment. Thirty-seven, with no kids isn’t from the lack of trying. “No…I um…love kids…but…”

  His eyes crinkled. What sorrow he noticed as she turned away to compose herself and then faced him again.

  “I was told children aren’t in the cards for me,” she said softly.

  Her words were almost a whisper in the confines of a luxury boat, where mafia men sometimes gathered.

  “What is in the cards, we do not know unless we cheat and see the hand before it is dealt. There are gifts we are given, many times we do not understand the reason. You are a pianist that is your child, birthed and shared with the world.”

  Nicole appreciated his kind words. Her ex-husband hadn’t thought being infertile was a gift or her career an infant. He wanted kids, but he wasn’t willing to adopt. Six years of marriage, five years of trying and he finally gave up. And oh yeah, he didn’t waste any time with the divorce and getting someone pregnant. Love, like that can leave scars and feelings of inadequacy.

  She turned away again. The wine was very good. Hopes to one day have a man to accept her broken part was the bad.

  “Bella, look at me.”

  The compassionate voice was endearing. She did look and he had a lopsided grin. “Why are you smirking?” she asked.

  “How lovely you are and how ugly I am.”

  “Oh please. Don’t use flattery to woo me in your bed.”

  “Then I will use truth.” He reached for her hand. He stroked her fingers with thick thumbs. “I do not want to sleep alone, nor do I want to share my bed with random women who care nothing of my pain. There is pain in you, as well. Let us comfort one another and make sadness joy.”

  The sincerity in which he spoke almost made her consider, but if they were to have sex she’d regret her actions in the morning. “You said dinner, that’s all. You also promised. Prometo means promise, right?”

  “Sí, I will take you home. I will uphold the promise.”

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

   

   

   

   

  Ari toyed with the stringy green vegetables on her plate. The private dining area gave her a visual of the main eating room. Selange agreed to meet her for dinner at this particular restaurant that Nico recommended. Safety is what her husband insisted on. Nico went so far as to send her with the bodyguard, but she ordered him to stay with the damn car in order to think. She understood, he wasn’t taking any risks with his family but she needed elbow room to breathe.

  She decided she wasn’t in the mood for string beans after-all and pushed away her dish.

  Her mind drifted to the Bianca fiasco. The chick on the side was given official notice to stay out of Nico’s life, but Ari wondered how that would be possible? Nico loved his half-sisters. Certainly he’d run into their mother during visits. Thank goodness the woman went out of town or else she’d be inclined to pay her a visit.

  Life is strange; a woman she once loathed had become a trusted confidant.

  Ari looked up as Selange approached from the entry reserved for VIP’s. There’s no way Ari could miss the woman’s understated elegance or the double security at her side.

  Ari smiled. Selange’s unruly hair was tamed; smoothed down and shiny like her daughter Allie and she looked so youthful that Ari would never guess she was in her thirties. They say, the thirties are the new twenties, well in Selange’s case it’s true. Ari smirked though, because as a woman in her forties she also looked damn good with a figure to rival any of the young girls to boot. 

  Selange removed her coat and a guard took possession. The smile on her face wasn’t as brilliant, this was the post-Shanda effect. Ari understood the wounds were still fresh, only time would distance the pain.

  “Hi Ari, you look great. How’s the family?”

  “Thanks, they’re good and yours?”

  “Growing and eating more,” she said and claimed a seat.

  The subtle survey of the surroundings didn’t go unnoticed by Ari. Mafia women weren’t exempt from harm because of their gender. “I’m glad you could make it. Getting settled in a new house is a major job.”

  “Yes, but I can always make time for a friend and to take care of business. What’s happened with the account?”

  “The money’s good. I did a signature proxy as you asked while I was there,” Ari answered and took the document from her bag to give to Selange.

  The guards faded into the décor. The dim lights added a touch of ambience to the shiny brass furnishings. An evening without children was relaxing for busy mothers.

  Alfonzo had gone to get the children from his mother’s. They had school tomorrow, plus she missed their noisy butts.

  She felt better since her and Alfonzo were back on track. They’d talked and resolved some issues but the why he killed Domingo mystery had yet to escape his sexy mouth. She’d wait and perhaps when he felt comfortable he’d share the details. She swore she wouldn’t step foot in New York until the situation with Mrs. Johnson was rectified nor would she over-indulge. Besides, she didn’t need booze to cope. Equilibrium consisted of a loving husband and children. A lapse in judgment didn’t make for a lifetime of bad mistakes. She was entitled to a pity party from time to time. Right now, she simply wanted to enjoy another woman’s company. Having Ari to talk to wasn’t the same as having Shanda, but no one can replace a person; every relationship is different.

  “All right Ari, what are we having?”

  They were interrupted by the manager who appeared with a complimentary bottle of champagne before Ari could make a suggestion. Selange’s guards blocked his passage, one took the decorative bucket for examination and the other frisked the poor guy. When he cleared their inspection he was allowed to approach the table. Despite his treatment he seemed to take the entire situation in stride. “Signora Diaz, compliments of the house.”

  Selange smiled. “Grazie.”

  He set the items down. “When you are ready to order, simply use the device on the table.”

  Selange nodded. She’d gone to a similar restaurant that employed the technology and was familiar with the process. “Grazie.”

  He departed, leaving the women to their conversation. Ari snickered. “We better have a tester. Nowadays you never know.”

  “True, but I was never one to take drinks from strangers in clubs. The gesture is nice, I suppose I’ll have a sip not to offend the host. If I hit the floor, then you know who to kill.”

  “Don’t play around,” Ari said trying to seize the glass before Selange put it to her mouth, but Selange had already taken a drink and put the glass down laughing.

  “See, I’m not dead. We can’t fear everything. That’s not living.”

  “Yeah, that’s for certain.”

  Selange became serious. “Okay, I have several new sponsors. The donations are certain to tip us over by millions…we…”

  Ari swiveled in her chair as an older woman stood near the entryway where the manager had only recently exited. She made the connection.

  Selange blinked. “Can I help you, Mrs. Calbrese?”

 
There was a smile from the impeccably coiffed lady. “Buongiorno. I was not certain you were who I thought,” she said.

  The guards had not let her pass.

  “And how can we help you?” The contentious expression on Selange’s face is the reason Ari intervened with the question.

  “Ah, I see the manager brought the best champagne. Is there a celebration?”

  “No,” Selange answered between her teeth.

  “May I join you for a moment Signora Diaz; it has been some time since we last spoke?”

  Selange nodded. They did not frisk the mature woman. Respect for her position as the former wife of a Don was given. However, this lapse Alfonzo would not have allowed. The bodyguard for Mrs. Calbrese however was requested to disarm. He was thoroughly searched and then he went to stand behind his employer as she took an empty chair next to Selange.

  Ari’s untouched glass is what she used to pour champagne to the rim. She drank without hesitation and the younger women exchanged glances. Mrs. Calbrese was a lush.

  She smacked her painted mouth when she was finished “Bellisimo!”

  The silence was thick thereafter until Mrs. Calbrese smiled and said, “Mi dispiace, it is very sad about the poor signora.”

  “Um,” Selange muttered, hoping Mrs. Calbrese would soon leave.

  Ari watched Selange’s strange expression as Mrs. Calbrese talked with merriment about her children who were either missing or dead. She saw a subtle change in Selange, sometimes another person who understands the anger of being taunted can tell when a person is poised to snap. Ari had reached for her purse and was about to make an excuse for them to leave, when Mrs. Calbrese remarked, “I am sure Giuseppe does not grieve. He did not mourn mio Geovonna, she too died in a car accident suddenly, what a sad coincidence.”

  The air rushed from Ari’s throat. She witnessed lightning speed as a feminine hand seized the fork from her plate to plunge into the neck of a lush. A string bean was attached to the utensil; green became red.

  The cloths of men guarding donne were flaps waving in the private dining room. Mrs. Calbrese’s soldier’s arm reached toward Selange and his neck was snapped before a hand touched her hair. With a sickening thud he fell to floor.

  The intermission lasted only a second as everyone’s eyes surveyed what Selange had done. Mrs. Calbrese’s lifeless body and that of her protector were not the condiments a restaurant uses.

  Selange’s guard reached for his cell. Selange was on her feet; a hand went in the air, suspended in front of the big man's face. "Stop right there, don't move goddammit. Don’t you call my husband or I swear I'll blow a hole through you myself!"

  Ari stood as back-up. Oooh this was unexpected. Blood dripped from the edge of the white linen. A surprise at dinner; macabre but not completely shocking that a fork had been used as a weapon. "Fucking A, you do as she says!"

  Selange spun around to Ari. “We can do this. You with me Ari, right?”

  “Girl, we got this mess covered. That bitch deserved it.”

  With renewed confidence Selange instructed the guards. “Roll her in the cloth. You, go tell the manager that Mrs. Calbrese said she felt ill and has gone.”

  Ari eyed Selange. “The cloth will be missing and the blood, we need a cleaner.”

  “Damn…oh shit damn you’re right,” Selange said. Her mind was running too fast. She had to slow down and think. Oh goodness, she had no other choice. “Sophie.”

  “Sophie is in Milan.”

  Selange was not aware of this. Selange bit her nails. “Okay…okay.” She went in her purse for her cell. She called Amelda. “Listen, there is an emergency. I have a mess that needs to be wiped away.” She gave Amelda their location and then went to peer out the partition curtain at the diners in the main eating area. The establishment was filled to capacity. Hopefully no one had seen Mrs. Calbrese enter. The VIP entry affords influential diners privacy.

  But, there was a matter she would still need to address. When she entered the establishment, there was security and a hostess. They would not have seen Mrs. Calbrese leave.

  Her troubles were growing. A cleaner was good, but she had to ensure the hostess did not talk in case anyone questioned her about the missing woman.

  “I’ll be back Ari,” she said calmly before slipping through the drapes.

  The hostess was heading to the restroom. The guard stationed at the entrance had his hands folded, eyes alert as he scanned the hall.

  Selange smiled and followed the woman in the lavatory.

   

   

   

  ***

   

   

   

  “Your wedding is in a week cazzo. Do not embarrass yourself by insisting upon having a woman stand as your Best Man, capisce?”

  Sergio didn’t want to talk about anything with Giuseppe. He had work to do. Staying busy before the nuptials is how he dealt with Lucia’s meddling family.

  He shredded paper; duplicates of unimportant junk.

  In Palermo he was given more responsibility at Palazzo Enterprises. He was in charge of collections, how wonderful.

  “Look Giuseppe, I’ve already asked Nico to do the honors. You made the trip for nothing.”

  Giuseppe smirked. “Nico and not Alfonzo, ha ha!”

  “I would have asked him but seeing that everybody’s grieving I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Well you have asked the perfect man. Nico is emotionless.”

  Sergio shoved another useless paper in the shredder. “That’s not true.” He cocked an eye at the hulking figure walking about his office, examining the space like an inspector. “How are you doing anyway cousin?”

  Giuseppe shrugged. “Ah, what is there for me to do other than live cugino?”

  “Well, I’m really sorry.”

  “Grazie.” Giuseppe replied and then he stopped in front of Sergio’s desk. He turned around the wooden frame to view the photo of a smiling couple. Lucia and Sergio took nice pictures. They appeared happy wherever this photo was taken. He suspected it must have been before Sergio was introduced to the Peglesi clan. “Congratulations nipote.”

  “Thanks.”

  Giuseppe was about to return the photo to its position when a trinket caught his attention and froze his veins. He stared at the necklace worn by Lucia, identical to the one he saw on another in his dreams.

  He twisted the frame back around. “I must go. Ciao!”

  “Yeah, take care,” Sergio said unaware of the fire burning in his cousin’s eyes.

  Giuseppe scowled. “I will break her neck!” he said aloud as he stomped outside to the street with guards flanking him all around.

  In the vehicle speeding toward Lucia’s apartment, he tried to calm himself. Obviously, Sergio knew nothing of her visit to his home. Ah, the deceitful viper had milked him dry with her cunning micio.

  Ah, to think, the past had closed only to find it reopened.

  His heart slowed, perhaps he was being hasty. What if this is exactly what she wanted?

  What if Lucia hoped he would remember and rush to her?

  He would not give her power. After-all he was drunk; she was not.

  Eh, let her reap what she sows, the vicious cow, he fumed.

  “There is a change!” he shouted to the driver and gave another address.

  Giuseppe would not allow Lucia to trap him. She was having a bambino with his cousin, and he would not ruin a young man’s wedding due to a woman he did not love.

  His cell rang. Grazie for the distraction, he said to himself when he saw it was his brother. “Buongiorno fratellino, come va?”

  “Bien, hey bro I have a question.”

  “Sí, speak.”

  “Did Carlo ever trade in artwork?”

  Giuseppe thought about it. “No, I do not recall his interest in art. That is mama’s domain, perché?”

  “I was looking at some of our pop’s records the other night. There’s stuff h
ere that mentions art and whatnot. Anyway, I don’t know where any of this crap might be. I just wanted to get an inventory of our heritage.”

  “Ah, you can have the pigeon droppings from Luzo. I want nothing of his; whatever my ‘Papa Carlo’ has bequeathed is more than enough.”

  “You say that now grande fratello but songs change when there are children. You have a son. Therefore, Carlo will receive the shares that are rightfully yours in trust, adios bro!”

  Giuseppe shook his head. There are moments when he found Alfonzo to be too good. He exhaled, but he would not change him for the world.

  Ringing.

  He answered without checking.

  “E adesso, fratellino?”

  “You do not answer for your sorella although I have called many times since yesterday. Perché?”

  “Because I do not want to hear any more of the Sergio talk. Nico will serve as Best Man, ciao sorella.”

  “Wait…aspetti!”

  “Aye, Amelda. Do you not have a famiglia to bother or designs to sketch?”

  “Mama had a male visitor. I think mama has a lover.”

  “Of course she does. Do you believe papa would not want her to find companionship?  We once laughed when we heard mama and papa in the bedroom. Sex is not only for the young. Ciao sorella!”

  Amelda was a busybody. How Matteo endured his sister was beyond Giuseppe’s comprehension.

  The car rolled on and he laughed. Ah, his mama was having sex.

  Bene!

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

   

   

   

  “Hi babe,” Alfonzo said as he entered the house with their children.

  “Hey honey,” she answered with a quivery smile and then relieved him of the twins’ overnight bag.

  “Hi mom, guess what Nana gave me?” Allie asked.

  “I don’t know, help me out, mom is a bad guesser.”

  Sal snickered. “Hi mom!”

  He bolted up the stairs. Selange suspected he wanted to play video games because at Nana’s, electronics are not allowed. Outdoor activities, spending time together and books were her rules.