Affliction

by S. W. Frank

  Selange’s eyes trailed her husband as he carried the twins upstairs like footballs.

  Allie continued to rummage through her duffle bag. “Where is it…oh…I hope I didn’t lose it.”

  “Lose what?”

  “Oh, here it is.” She thrust the thin book at her mom.

  When Selange read the title, she laughed. “Oh funny, ha-ha what a joke.”

  Allie giggled and ran upstairs. No wonder Sal took off. The title of the book read; A SELF-HELP GUIDE ON HOW TO BOIL WATER, and the subtitle said, FOR HOPELESSLY INEPT HOMEMAKERS.

  “Oh Maria, not you too,” Selange asked aloud.

  The children must have complained about her cooking.

  Goodness, did her food taste that bad?

   

   

   

   

   

  ***

   

   

   

   

   

  Most of the children were asleep. Three out of four isn’t bad. That Angelina was a late-nighter like her dad. A few books, back massage and after eleven at night she joined the rest of the Diaz clan in slumber.

  Selange hurried downstairs to make a private call while Alfonzo showered.

  Ari picked up on the first ring.

  “Thanks for helping me out today. I don’t know what happened. I think I blacked out or something.”

  “You sure did. But, I might’ve done the same thing. That woman was needling you.”

  “I really didn’t mean to use your fork.”

  Ari laughed. “That salad was gross. Remind me to avoid eating there.”

  “Me too.” Selange heard footsteps. “All right Ari have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Alfonzo rounded the corner to join her in the kitchen. He whistled and she recognized the tune from an old cop show.

  “Bad girls…bad girls…what you gonna’ do…what you gonna’ do when they come for you?” Alfonzo sang off tune as he reached for an apple.

  Fruit and microwaveable food is all anybody ate lately, unless they escaped to Nana’s or another relative’s home.

  “Did you enjoy your dinner?” he asked as she busied herself.

  “Yes.”

  Alfonzo smirked. “What did you have?”

  Selange made up a meal. “Um…you know me, salad, cream chicken with broccoli sauce…really good...yum.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should go there tomorrow.”

  Selange swallowed nervously. Her face was half-hidden in the fridge as she checked if the kids had milk for the morning. “I don’t know, I’m kind of swamped with charity stuff and then I have to make sure everybody’s clothes are in order for the wedding. I’m so busy…ugh…we need juice dammit!”

  The sound of an apple crunching sounded at her back. Then her honey whispered in her ear. “A fork is missing from a restaurant and a tablecloth; do you know who stole them?”

  She spun around to find him smiling with a cheek full of apple.

  “Okay, what had happened was….”

  Alfonzo laughed as she explained the events. “Ah babe…you guys went through all that trouble when you should’ve called Nico. That’s his damn restaurant!”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, he and Vincent owned it together. I suppose Ari’s finding this out right about now as well. We wanted to see how long you ladies hid what you’d done.” Seeing the relief on his wife’s face he took pity. “Don’t worry, the staff is family, nobody’s snitching, besides they didn’t see nothing.”

  Selange released the breath she held. “Oh, honey. I was scared shitless.”

  “If that woman caused Shanda’s death, then babe I ‘aint mad at you. But damn, a fork to the jugular, ouch.”

  Selange closed the fridge. She hadn’t realized she continued to hold the handle. “I’m tired. I had a long day.”

  “Come on,” he stated as he tossed the core in the bin, “I’ll give you a thorough oral massage.”

  “And I’ll return the favor.”

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

   

   

   

  The big day was finally here. This was Sergio and Lucia’s wedding and hordes of family had gathered. Sergio looked relaxed. Tonya and Tyree were up front, supportive and normal family.

  Sergio noticed they held hands through-out the ceremony, beaming proudly as he exchanged vows with the beautiful woman glowing in a pristine white gown.

  Yes, white as snow, silk and train, veil with real pearls and olive skin, Lucia was gorgeous.

  Family is a beautiful picture; young and old in such finery.

  Sophie sat with her daughter and grandchildren. Yosef was not at her side. She had yet to break the news of her marriage to her children but she would do so at the first opportunity. Yosef insisted on sharing her villa. She had told him, he could not until her son and daughter were informed of their marriage. He is a pushy man and said he would allow her two days.

  Before marrying Yosef she had her attorney hastily draw up a prenuptial agreement. Yosef would not have any claim to her assets. Everything upon her demise was to go equally to Giuseppe, Amelda and her grandchildren. If this was a ploy, she would not have her children’s inheritance stolen due to her folly.

  In front of a rabbi and magistrate is where she exchanged vows.

  Nico and Alfonzo were searching for the missing painting that would ensure she had a chance of a future. They had one month remaining before the reprieve Yosef was given ended.

  One month.

  One month before she died.

  Her eyes traveled to her famiglia. Love swelled her heart. Her sweet Nico, in her mind he was more of a son. Please, she asked beneath the domed ceilings and fresco paintings for mercy. Even if she was not granted compassion, she was thankful to have lived a colorful life. There was not a dull moment, certainly there were relaxing times, but as she eyed Maria and Bruno, she smiled.

  I have had such joys…mio famiglia is the prize.

  The rings were being exchanged. That damn Giuseppe entered then and everyone turned to view the Don. He did not apologize.

  Giuseppe had arrived late, on purpose.

  He brought a guest, not on the list, intentionally.

  And when his guest said quietly, “What a lovely dress. I wonder where she had it made,” as the bride and groom walked up the aisle.

  Giuseppe replied, “A thrift shop.”

  And when everyone threw rice as the newlyweds departed the cathedral, Giuseppe tossed his keys at Lucia’s head, accidentally. Rice throwing is to represent fertility; the bride was already pregnant and if he were foul he’d expose her. She’d taken advantage of his pene during his intoxication.

  He was disgusted by her actions.

  He hated that he enjoyed the wicked deed, thus he loathed her now.

  When the reception celebration was underway and the happy couple chatted up the tables to make the guests feel welcome, Giuseppe whispered to Lucia, “You need a mint, phew Lucia!”

  Embarrassed, Lucia covered her mouth and then excused herself to neutralize the non-existent odor. Such fun Giuseppe had at poor Lucia’s expense. No one was the wiser, that his actions were deliberate.

  Amid the liquored festivities there was a moment his heart sank low.

  This festivity and gathering of famiglia is what he envisioned with Shanda. She would have been a beautiful bride. He then peered around in search of his son. That is when a hand touched his shoulder. Slender fingers adorned with a sizable rock identified the wearer.

  Selange.

  She smiled at his date. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” Nicole answered.

  A kind face that one, Giuseppe thought as she circled the table holding Carlo’s hand. “There is my fi
glio.”

  “Yes. He has asked me to dance,” Selange said. “I had to ask papa, since I am so much older for his permission.”

  “You have my permission donna.”

  She smiled and her eyes were soft and understanding. They shared grief and in the softest of a whisper he was told, “Thank you for this gift that I can hold.”

  Giuseppe nodded. His son is what they would cherish. Shanda was there at the dance. “Prego, do not stomp his feet with your heels.” He leaned forward and rubbed his son’s head. He was a good boy. His mama would be proud. “Ti amo figlio.”

  “Anche a me papa,” Carlo voiced and smiled adorably.

  Allie and her siblings piled on his neck suddenly, hugging him tight. The girls kissed his face and cheered when they scurried in their pretty clothes to the dance floor.

  His date smiled. “You have a very loving family.”

  “Sí,” he agreed.

  Had they seen his sadness; had they known?

  Famiglia had lifted him then; reminding him of the joys of famiglia.

  He watched his son stomp to the music like his papa. He had not danced with the boy’s mother because he had no rhythm, but tonight he rose tall and extended his hand to the guest who without knowing, had provided a sad man comfort simply by her presence.

  He gestured with his head to the revelers crowding the floor. “Dance with me bella.”

  Nicole stood, running her hands over the temporary wrinkles of a fitted evening dress. “Okay.”

  In his arms he took her, the dance he never had was in memory of Shanda. He did not care his movements were not as smooth as his brother who found his wife in the crowd after returning from somewhere after chatting with Nico. He did not entertain business this night. He only wanted solace of gentle woman’s arms.

  The couples swayed to the romantic song. Nico joined with his wife. Many lovers danced. The newlyweds were in the middle of the large crowd smiling in to each other’s eyes.

  Nicole’s accented coal eyes were shining. “You’re a very good dancer.”

   “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “You lie like famiglia.”

  She laughed. He enjoyed the musical timbre. “No, you are.”

  Then he smirked because he realized they were not in rhythm with the others. Nicole could not dance, either.

  The party came to a close. Nicole clutched a bombiniere as she walked beside Giuseppe to the awaiting limo. His tie was loosened, hair black and shining under the moon. She had seen many sides of Giuseppe in the span of days. Tonight she glimpsed vulnerability. The blue eyes had lost the humorous luster but returned quickly.

  He played the gentlemen and held the door instead of the chauffeur. In fact he was well mannered on the ride as well.

  Nicole touched her hair self-consciously. “Would you like company tonight?”

  A twinkle in the eye. “I have yet to kiss you bella.”

  “You have my permission.”

  The hand which settled on her thigh was affectionate and respectful. “Grazie, but I prefer to kiss you bella when I am not thinking about another.” He sighed. “I have told Tony I will bring you home. I will keep my word.”

  Giuseppe escorted Nicole to the door of her sister’s home. “Ciao, he said when she was let in and walked the gravel path toward the limo.

  He did not want pity for company. He was neither a fool nor desperate.

  He heard hurried footsteps before he reached the car and turned.

  Coming in a swift walk were shapely legs belonging to the pianist. Her eyes were vibrant dark pools; such a pretty woman but somewhat reserved.

  “Tonight I need company,” she said. “Am I inappropriate for asking for you to be my pillow?”

  “I am not soft, so sí, that is inappropriate.”

  “A firm pillow works.”

  He put out his hand and she grasped hold. They walked to the car in silence. When they arrived at his home, Gee greeted him at the door. He patted the dog’s head and then removed his jacket.

  “Would you like a drink,” he asked after Gee settled to the floor.

  “No, a kiss is preferable.”

  Giuseppe stepped close. His arms circled her waist and his head lowered to gently kiss her mouth. Then the fire he stored for another began to build and he lifted her higher to regale from the flames of a Don’s bonfire.  

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

   

   

   

   

  Nico sat forward at the sound of the security system. Four in the damn morning his son had company, was he crazy?

  The twins had turned eighteen and high school was nearing an end. Soon they were leaving for college and frankly, Nico couldn’t wait.

  “Darren, why is there a crying girl in our house?” Nico asked when he reached the center of the staircase and found his son consoling a girl.

  “Dad, she’s in trouble.”

  Nico reached the bottom stare. Barefoot and shirtless, he wasn’t prepared for teenage problems. This was his wife’s area.

  “What kind of trouble. And give me the cliff note version, alright?”

  “She’s being forced to go to America but she wants to stay here.”

  Nico looked at the girl. Yeah, she was cute. Darren was the knight savior.

  “Well how old is your friend…and…exactly what do you mean being forced…by who…parents?”

  “It’s not her parents but this dude she married and she’s only twenty,” Darren said in her defense.

  “So she’s upset because her husband wants to move with her to the states in a nutshell?”

  “He’s not her husband anymore. They’re divorced and he wants to get rid of her. They haven’t lived together in months.”

  “Does she have family?”

  “Not here or in the U.S. Her family’s in Israel, but she doesn’t want to go there either.”

  “O –kay.” Nico grimaced at the drama young people can bring.

  “This older guy married her to get out of jail and then he brought her here to fend for herself and now he wants to drop her after he used her. She needs help. She came here because that fucker said she better be ready when he comes in the morning to escort her to the airport and if she thinks about going anywhere she’ll be in the grave with her brother.”

  “Oh really?” Nico grunted. No way, perhaps it was a coincidence but he wondered about something. “What’s this old guy’s name?” he asked.

  Darren served as Anna’s mouthpiece. Apparently, the girl couldn’t talk, only cry.

  “Yosef Glav-”

  “Glavovitz,” she said.

  Guess she found her voice, Nico thought as he checked the security system. “All right, it’s too early in the morning to do anything. Darren prepare the guest bedroom for –what’s your name?” he asked.

  “Anna.”

  “Anna, you’ll be safe here, okay?”

  She nodded and the green eyes that mesmerized his son were brilliant emeralds of gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “Dad.”

  “Yes son.”

  Darren looked guilty. “Mom will be mad.”

  “No, she’ll be pissed but she’ll still love you.”

  There was an exchange between young people that Nico read before the announcement reached his son’s mouth.

  “Um…I messed up dad…we didn’t use protection the first time. Anna’s pregnant?”

  “You sure?” Nico asked with a skeptical tilt of a brow. He would speak to his son in private about having a paternity test.

  “We went to the doctor. She’s five weeks and the paternity test points to me.”

  His son was smarter than his dad.

  The kids stood and Nico went to his son and gave him a hug that was l
ong overdue. “I’m proud of you young man. Damn proud. We’ll work through this as a family. You guys get some sleep and tomorrow we’ll talk.”

  The tearful girl climbed the stairs with his son.

  Nico squeezed the tension from his eyes. “Damn, what a fucking mess.” He grumbled, before going to the kitchen for a beer. He drank it down in a few gulps. Ari was not going to handle this well.

  Nope, not at all.

  ***

   

   

   

  The Giacanti estate boasted a bed of flowers, lined in colorful gallantry. The dark horror Alfonzo found when he first set foot on the property seemed a nightmarish dream long ago by the light of day.

  Selange’s hand never released when they entered the stately interior. Security branched out to inspect for intruders, but found only empty corridors and rooms.

  The floors were polished, walls plastered and painted, leaving no trace of the bullet riddled walls. Someone had lovingly restored the interior, keeping the antique fixtures. There was a large vase filled with fresh flowers. Death had gone.

  Alfonzo peered inside the room where he’d last seen his Uncle Alberti’s corpse. A thumping so loud kicked his chest and he retreated.

  Selange held his arm. “Is this the room?”

  Alfonzo nodded.

  She released him to push wide the doors. She marched inside, stopped in the center of the floor and smiled at her husband rooted in the hall. “I loved that man. Gosh, how do we take people for granted? He reminded me of the Riddler in Batman. Riddle me this-riddle me that.” She laughed. “Did you ever understand when he talked like that?”

  Alfonzo walked in. “Took me a while to solve, but eventually I did. I didn’t think of the Riddler, I likened him to Yoda.”

  “Oh, yeah, classic Star Wars.”

  Alfonzo relaxed. A grin displayed his prominent dimple. “Nena, you’re good.”

  “What, what did I do?”

  “Tu sabé.” He grinned. “Man, sometimes I am in awe of that mind of yours. When did you have this place renovated?”

  “Sophie did after Alberti died. She told me her plans.”

  “But you never told me.”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “That’s true.” His forehead furrowed. “Did she do anything to the sub-basement?”

  “I’m not sure, let’s see.”

  They walked swiftly to investigate. Alfonzo had read the diary in entirety. He also recalled riddles from Alberti. Many of the stories were about family, loyalty and duty.