ATONEMENT (Alfonzo)

by Frank, S. W.

  The doctor’s tone was serious, “His injuries were very bad. He lost much blood. He may not survive, it is best you know this.”

  Alberti’s usually impassive expression became solemn. He nodded and walked to one of the seats and dropped there. The doctor turned to leave but Alberti had one request. “I wish to stay with him, arrange a private suite. Money is no obstacle.”

  The doctor replied, “It has already been arranged.”

  “Who requested this?”

  “Giuseppe Dichenzo.”

  Alberti nodded, yes, of course he had. Nico was his cousin.

  The doctor slid out the panel doors and Alberti sat alone. Internally, he possessed emotional strength. Death wasn’t new or shocking in his world, yet somehow the possibility of Nico passing and the loss of Vincent were distressing beyond words. He loved them because they were his sons. But Nico was wrong in his assessment. He was honorable. Giving his sons a loving home with parents was a noble thing to do. He was in his twenties, unmarried and in love with a woman whose father despised him. Alberti did not come from a rich and influential family; he was the son of a killer and in her father’s eyes an undesirable. He wanted better for his daughter. Sabrina was her name, young, pretty and untouched.

  They made love in the fields on a warm evening and later she came to him and told Alberti of the child growing in her womb. How her father learned of it so quickly is still a mystery but he did and sent her away. The father hid her and planned to give Alberti’s children away like trash, but Alberti was not a timid boy and enlisted the help of his adopted father. They made Sabrina’s father speak and he sang like a canary. They did not kill him, that would be merciful, instead they made him take them to Sabrina, undo his arrangement and when the children were born they were given to The Butcher and his wife Angelina to care for.

  He did not regret it; he would do it all over again. Yes, Nico was right, he was the father but Nico was wrong about other things. Alberti would clarify these things and then Nico would have peace. The sadness he felt was the same when his adoptive mother died, although today it was tenfold. Alberti stood and went for a smoke, Wax like a massive shadow followed. Later, he sat at Nico’s bedside and spoke long into the night, recanting the story of his birth. Nico heard, he could tell in the medicated induced eyes. Nico could rest knowing Alberti never once disgraced the man they called their father or the woman they both knew as mother.

  When Nico dozed Alberti touched his hand, “Sleep, gain your strength, my son and when you are well I will make amends and we will begin anew to rebuild what we have lost. But you must want it, you must want to live.”

  ***

  Sophie could not contain her grief. Vincent was dead. She’d seen his body at the morgue. Amelda was beside herself, wailing when she heard the news and immediately chose to cancel the wedding but Sophie would not have it. Vincent would want her to celebrate life, it was short.

  Giuseppe was making the arrangements for an expeditious funeral, he was also making certain there wasn’t an autopsy and the cause of death was listed as a sudden heart attack. Money and fear produced no ethical debate from the coroner. He would clean and suture the wounds and release the body to the funeral director by morning. Two of Giuseppe’s men would remain there to ensure this was done.

  She had yet to speak or see Alfonzo and his wife. From the news she received, Selange was in shock and admitted to the hospital for monitoring. Sophie closed her eyes, praying for the young woman. Praying she was pregnant with her nephew’s child. A selfish prayer, yes, but one she fervently wished because the guilt of what happened would forever haunt Selange. A child of Nico’s would help ease the pain and maybe bring peace to her heart.

  ***

  Alfonzo pressed his forehead to the railing trying to unload the heaviness which settled there. Selange was hooked up to IV’s, again!

  He didn’t want the kids to see her in this condition. She appeared so out of it, heck he hated seeing it, too. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he needed to know but they had to wait until she was well. It was the damn sonogram and an announcement, “The fetuses appear to be fine Signore, the heartbeats are strong but we will keep her a few days. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. Is she taking pre-natal vitamins?”

  Alfonzo choked. Fetuses, did she say that? “Wait, did you say fetuses?”

  “Sí signore. Due bambini, twins.”

  He excused himself, walked out into the hall and bent over with his hands on his knees breathing hard. Confused, angry, sad and an entire array of mixed emotions assaulted him. Twins, Selange was pregnant by Nico. “¡Coño! This can’t be happening!” He exclaimed.

  His wife was having another man’s babies.

  ‘Shit…shit…shit!’

  After walking off the shock and shadowboxing in the hall like a lunatic, he returned to the hospital room and resumed his current bedside vigil. More than an hour passed since he got the news and the blow continued to sting.

  ***

  Crystalia and Lucia sat with Amelda throughout the night, doing what bridesmaids should, comfort and support a friend. Renalda and the others had fallen asleep unable to fight sleep. This was the first time the house was quiet. Husbands, a worried Matteo, an angry Giuseppe and a host of newly appointed guards had come. Most were gone, only burly bodyguard’s remained. Giuseppe and Matteo were paying a personal visit to Don Messini. They were not convinced he was unaware of Constantine’s doings despite his protest. Lucia feared Giuseppe would evoke a war. She called her father, a man Giuseppe respected; hopeful he could intervene and avoid further bloodshed.

  There were moments when men acted from anger and made bad choices. Giuseppe was impulsive. Her brother Matteo was getting married in a few days and she did not want him placed in jeopardy. Amelda was already a basket case over her cousin’s death and she could not withstand any more drama!

  She called her father and he assured her he would deal with it and she returned to Amelda’s side. Soon Amelda slept and Crystalia and Lucia remained awake. Both unable to believe quiet Kim-Sung Li was spying on them, looking for information to use against them.

  “They haven’t found her.” Crystalia commented.

  “Who?”

  “The bitch Kim-Sung!”

  Lucia sneered, “We vote, you and I.”

  “This isn’t how we do it Lucia, everyone must be present.”

  “To hell with the others. I’m sure they’ll agree, besides if we wait any longer she might make it out of Italy.”

  Crystalia nodded, “One million euro.”

  “Bueno, I will make the call tonight.”

  Crystalia nodded. Lucia was right. They must get Kim-Sung for this betrayal. Tomorrow she planned to visit Selange, from what she overheard, the woman was in a state of shock. They had become friends and friends are there in troubled times.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A funeral one day, followed by a wedding the next. It was a beautiful, glorious, solemn wedding on a remote Greek Island with hundreds in attendance. There were old Don’s, young sons, politicians and two of Europe’s most famous celebrities, Natalie Luna and Nicolai Kosev. The only people absent were Selange, Nico and Vincent. Two of the three were confined to the hospital and the third in a permanent state of rest in a cemetery beside his adopted parents.

  Alfonzo stood silently in his tux, his eyes looking through the line of bridesmaids. He heard the words spoken by the priest and frowned. He’d uttered the same vows, so did Selange. Vows of fidelity meant nothing, they were easily broken and he mocked it, his foolishness that is.

  The wedding finally ended. All he had to do was remain upright and try to smile whenever necessary. He managed okay. The children got him through it but when they asked where mommy is, Alfonzo’s face became pain-stricken and his mother kindly intervened to give an innocent explanation for her absence and not the truth teetering on Alfonzo’s lips.

  ‘Your mommy’s in the hospital. She’s having twins
sweethearts, you’ll have step-siblings, whoo-hoo!’

  Certainly, he couldn’t say it; they wouldn’t understand the sarcasm, besides he did not want to speak out of spite. This was his problem and their mommy’s. Yep, and he was still trying to figure out what the hell to do about it!

  ***

  They removed the IV’s this morning. Selange was allowed to get out of bed and walk around. She put on slippers, went to brush her teeth then decided to check on Nico. His condition was downgraded from critical to serious and the nurse gave her permission to make a brief visit.

  Selange donned the heavy wool robe and sought out her lover and friend. She wondered if he knew about Vincent. Of course, she would not tell him, she didn’t have the strength to deliver the bad news.

  She rode the elevator to the fifth floor and headed to the west wing. These were private hospital suites, often reserved for important or influential patients. In Brooklyn, when her dad caught a case of appendicitis and needed surgery, the closest he came to a private room was sharing his space with just one other patient in the room the size of a box.

  Before she got to the door, she saw the guard there and immediately surmised it was Nico’s room. The guard spotted her and watched her approach void of expression. “I’d like to visit for a minute,” she said and he stepped aside without a word.

  She opened the door and entered the spacious room. There attached to machines and drips and staring straight at her was Nico. She closed the door then walked slowly over to the mechanized bed. His dark eyes suddenly reflected light but they were tired. He was fighting an internal battle with death and she prayed Nico was winning. She touched his hand, “Hi.”

  A weary grin, “Hi.”

  “Good news.”

  “Yeah,” he croaked, “tell me before I sleep.”

  “They’re twins.”

  His eyes grew bright. Understanding and elation sinking in, “Mine.”

  “Ours.”

  “Yes, ours.”

  “Hold on, for them and your boys.”

  “My boys…” he whispered as his eyes drooped, “Aaron…Darren.”

  “Hold on, your family needs you.” She said bravely. She meant every word, one day she might need him, also. Looking at his strong angular features and the tufts of shiny black hair brought a gentle smile to her lips. He was her gladiator, fighting for his life in the ancient coliseum of Athens. He’d win, he had to.

  She stroked his hand then went to get a cloth to wipe his face. This small gesture represented her eternal gratitude and love. They could not be together; the guilt wouldn’t allow it. She realized it now. Their destinies led elsewhere and each time they sought to change its course, tragedy ensued. No, her life was with Alfonzo and so too was her deep love. She’d simply forgotten but now she had to find her way back…that is…if he would have her after this.

  The cool cloth slid across his face until it flushed with color. Yes, he was fighting. The only unknown was for whom?

  Then the door opened, an attractive woman with two tall boys entered. The boys resembled Nico, except their hair had hints of brown. Selange moved aside as the boys rushed to their father’s side, calling him dad, telling him they were there and weren’t leaving. The woman waited near the door, her eyes riveted on Selange, raking her up and down with distaste. Selange didn’t look away, she was no longer ashamed. What she shared with Nico she would not regret. It was over and she decided to move forward to repair the fragmented pieces of her life. It was time she fought, too, and she would for her family.

  “Stay away from him, do you understand me bitch. You stay away from my husband or God help me I’ll claw your eyes out!” The woman sneered as Selange sought to pass.

  The woman’s anger was understandable, her threat similar to those of many scorned women facing their spouse’s mistress. Selange took ownership of her role in their affair and replied, “Save the drama and go to him, he needs you.”

  That said, Selange stepped around the woman and exited Nico’s life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Shanda sat across from her best friend, shaking her head at the mess she’d gotten herself into. She couldn’t believe it, well she never expected Selange of all people to act the fool. That position was reserved for her. She’d dropped everything and flew out to Puerto Rico to lend moral support after Alfonzo packed his things and left. This happened two months ago and Selange was finally beginning to come to terms with the separation. Shanda didn’t want to be the one to say it but in the back of her mind she questioned her friend’s judgment. What the hell was she thinking? See, it’s bad enough she cheated, shit, Nico was tempting hunk-booty, but they hit it raw, no protection, now that’s what Shanda found interesting, especially because missus-high-and-mighty was always on her case about being responsible. Now look who’s got the big stomach and and lost both men!

  Shanda didn’t mind being there, though. Free home cooked meals and a large house with all the amenities a girl could want were at her disposal. Not to mention, Selange gave her free usage of her black card and she sure did purchase a few items with it, mainly an expensive Hermes bag she always wanted. She figured it equaled the compensation she lost being on emergency family leave from work, because that’s what she saw this as…a true fucking emergency.

  Sal came in the living-room and sat on the sofa, “Mom is it okay if I go to work with dad?”

  Selange nodded, “It’s okay. Did he say he’s coming to get you?”

  “Yeah, he’s outside.”

  Selange tried not to show her disappointment, “Go upstairs and brush your hair. Change your shirt, too while you’re at it,” then she looked at Shanda and got up, “Can you make sure he puts on a decent shirt. I need to speak to Alfonzo.”

  Shanda’s lip twitched, “Okay girl but don’t beg his ass to come back. Let him come when he’s ready.”

  “Can you just go and help your godchild please.”

  “Going…going…gone.” She laughed heading for the stairs.

  After a deep breath, Selange stepped outside. Alfonzo was near the door, dressed impeccably as usual in a smart tailored suit. He looked handsome. Lou was waiting outside the car.

  Alfonzo put his hands in his pockets and faced her, “Is Sal ready?”

  “You could have asked me first, I am his mom.”

  “And I’m his dad, remember?”

  “Why won’t you talk to me…do you hate me that much, Alfonzo?”

  His heart flipped up and down. Hate…no…he could never hate her, he just couldn’t deal with seeing her every day. It would hurt watching her belly swell and know she was giving life to another man’s seed. He loved her but his love wasn’t that strong. He saw the sadness in her pretty eyes and it killed him. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Then please…for the sake of our kids…for what you know in your heart…please forgive me…I love you.”

  He closed his eyes at the heartfelt plea. Shut them so damn tight blood vessels protruded. When he opened them she’d wiped a tear away. She didn’t want him to see how his response hurt her. Yes, dammit, he was angry. It had gotten better, the anger and disappointment, did. It’s only when she said the word ‘love’ it kind of rung ironic she’d use it now. Where was the love for him when she was fucking Nico or when she lied over and over again when he lay beside her and she pretended to be true? Where was it then, he queried in silence?

  “Don’t do this Selange, don’t trivialize what you’ve done. I can forgive you…” he tilt his head back to look at the sky then to her again, “shit I can do that but I don’t know if I can …”

  She nodded suddenly in understanding. He didn’t need to finish the sentence because she already guessed the last words would be, ‘raise another man’s kids.’ The downcast eyes and quivering lip were signs she was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown. Her voice had a shaky lilt to it, “Can you do one thing before you go?”

  “What?”

  “Kiss me good-bye.”

  �
�Selange, I don’t…”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m dying over it…give me this last memory so I can try to live without you…please.”

  Alfonzo understood the anguish. It haunted him every night. He struggled with it every day. Wanting to come home, wanting to forgive her and searching his conscience for a way to reconcile. He found it difficult, but this request he would do. He moved forward, lowered his head and kissed her soft salty lips and her arms were on his shoulders making him remember what he forgotten. His kiss grew more passionate and he heard her whimper in despair, then he cupped her cheeks with gentle hands holding her there, not letting her go. Thinking maybe, one day…not now…but in the future he might find the courage to put aside his ego and they could try to rebuild their lives.

  Finally, he let her go and she did the hiccupping cry, “I…I…I hope you…find…find…the…b-b-ball of gold.” She sputtered then flew inside the house.

  He stared at the door, the poem by Stephen Crane. The one she recited the first night they made love. It’s her way of telling him she wasn’t perfect, love isn’t perfect and sometimes we reach for things that can be found right here. It rocked his foundation and he stood there until Sal flew out of the house shouting, “Pops, come on…I’m ready.”

  EPILOGUE

  Shanda hadn’t come and it’s not that she didn’t try; her plane got delayed in Miami. Bummer! Emilio who weeks earlier was in this same predicament, well he wasn’t the one pushing out a football from his vagina but he was there, nonetheless to watch his girlfriend Jessica deliver a healthy baby girl who weighed seven point three ounces, found himself in Labor and Delivery for a second time. Today, he wasn’t sticking around the delivery room, no, seeing it once was enough. He went outside wondering how the hell women dealt with such pain. He’d need a couple of shots and anesthesia if the roles were reversed. Yeah, it’s beautiful when the kid gets here, but the in-person footage of the screaming bloody sticky birth process, isn’t. He went to the waiting room and text Jessica: LOVE U, BE HOME SOON. SELANGE’S INSIDE ROOM.