Amoroso

by S. W. Frank

“In school.”

  “Why?”

  “Escuela es muy importante, bonita,” Alfonzo answered, slipping comfortably into Spanish.

  “What did he say daddy?” she asked.

  “He said you can call Angie later,” Nico replied and winked into the camera.

  Alfonzo shook his head at Nico’s lie.

  Semira gripped her father’s cheeks and then whispered. “I gotta’ pee!”

  Alfonzo laughed.

  “Alrighty, say ciao to Zio.”

  “Ciao!” The girl screamed, and then Nico stood with Semira clinging to his neck, his thighs encased in jeans splattered with paint in Al’s line of vision.

  “By the way Nico. No mas closed meetings with mi esposa. I might go loco, tu sabe?”

  Nico bent, replacing legs with a snarly face. “Ojos azules locos will return, eh? I noticed you missing at my party and I’m sure you heard and saw everything in that video. We’re solid, now cut the bullshit and stop looking for a reason to put a bullet between my eyes.”

  “Callate and take the girl to the bathroom!”

  “Later!”

  “Yeah –yeah.”

  The screen returned to Alfonzo’s business report. He settled back in his seat, closed his eyes to the rays passing through tinted windows to warm his cheek.

  Alfonzo’s mind drifted to Puerto Rico, and then uptown New York and he felt the ground beneath his sneakers. He reached for his cell, thinking maybe he needed to try to reconcile with his mom. She contacted the children, but never asked to speak to him or Selange. The way she behaved toward his wife wasn’t right. Selange didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. Guilty by association is petty shit when dealing with relatives.

  His mom answered after several rings. “Hola, are the children okay?” she asked right out of the gate.

  “They’re good. How are you doing?”

  “I am fine. Why are you calling?”

  “Por que? I didn’t know I needed a reason to say hello.”

  She hasn’t asked how I’m doing, though.

  “Humph.”

  “Lo siento if I disappointed you.”

  She scoffed. “Aye disappointed? Is that what happens when someone you love is dead you are disappointed?”

  “Mamá, disown me, punish me with silence, whatever the hell you want but my wife isn’t responsible. You are on the board of the charity. What if she needs your advice?” Alfonzo shook his head in dismay. “Mamá, don’t stop talking to my wife because of me, comprende? Never talk to me if that’s what you want, but be there for my children mamá and Selange -goddammit!”

  “Aye-aye-ya! Cállate with your filthy boca!”

  “Fuck no, I’m your son mamá, that is who I am!”

  “Then hijo, be loco –slaughter familia. I once believed you had a bit of goodness –un poco de mí…pero no…eres malo!” 

  He considered telling her to go to hell. That is what a bad son might say; instead, he allowed the volcanic eruption of hurt to cool before speaking. He loved his madre; she adored Domingo. She refused to hear the truth.  Mainly, because death is final and the details could not undo the end result.

  Alfonzo snorted. “Sí, para que tal vez, pero no un Dios que perdona.”

  “Sólo soy una madre triste.”

  “Ma,” he attempted to appeal to her heart. “Remember that winter when I came from school and you met me at the door to say we were staying the night with Tia?”

  She sucked her teeth. “What about it?”

  “When I asked why, you said there’s a problem with the outlets and the landlord needs a few days to correct the problem. Ma, the lights were shut-off for non-payment. You didn’t want me to know, but I overheard you talking to Tia.  Tia said you were stubborn and too proud to allow anyone to help. She called Tio and he went to the utility company to pay the arrears. Ma, I wasn’t stupid. I understood...you didn’t want me to think less of you. But I could never think that.”

  Alfonzo listened to her gentle breaths with hope she’d heard the cry of a boy wanting a mother’s love.

  His hopes were dashed.

  “Adios!

  “Ma wait –espera mamá!” He beseeched before she disconnected. “Te amo mamá, revisión Luke 17:3 through 4.”

  “Y tú revision Genesis 4:8. Vaya con dios!”

  Alfonzo scoffed, examining the grooves on the polished desk when she disconnected. Neat piles of papers at his elbow were the nearest company in the silence.

  If he were a tearful man, he’d sob. Instead, he accepted his loss. There are consequences for crimes, jail; even bullets were preferable to his despair. He lowered his hand with the device to the shiny wood.  Fuck it; as long as his mom stayed in touch with the children, he’d deal with the silent treatment. Maybe, one day she’d listen to his explanation or visit his grave for unilateral conversation.

  What I get from you mamá is stubbornness!

  Then Sergio peeked in the office. “Hey cuz, you have a minute?”

  “Un minuto o veinte?”

  Sergio squeezed his nose. “Speak English man, all I hear is static.”

  “You should’ve picked up a few words in español by now. You have ten minutes. Tick, tick, come in.” Alfonzo’s eyebrow ascended as he checked out Sergio’s attire. "I see you're biting off my style. Put a Serge touch on your shit and then you’re an original –not a copycat." Alfonzo stated when Sergio entered his office.

  Sergio laughed. "Damn you're always straight to the point." He rubbed a hand down the length of his fashionable tie as he sat to face his boss cousin. "I need a favor."

  Alfonzo's brow arched higher. "This favor, does it involve killing?"

  Sergio frowned. “Nah, cuz. Ya’ll mofo’s are loco. There you go, loco is my Spanish word of the day.”

  Alfonzo tapped a key and the screen changed. He swiveled in his seat, somewhat glad for the reprieve with Sergio “What’s the favor primo, a raise, mas dinero, que?”

  “A raise will be nice, cuz. Anyway, I think Lucia might be cheating and I don’t know what to do,” Sergio stated, crossing his leg like a gentleman for Alfonzo to peep his limited edition black on black Air Jordan’s.

  “A raise huh? You got a raise six months ago and I allowed your ass to ride up on the elevator to see me, ‘aint that enough?” Alfonzo noticed the expensive kicks. Sergio shelled out major cash for retro sneakers that likely cost more than his suit. Sergio’s salary wasn’t chump change; in fact he made more than the Prime Minister. He shook his head exasperatedly, the sneakers were Sergio’s signature style and he had to respect the brother. He wasn’t robbing anybody, besides the dude proved he had a mind for business. Most hustlers do. Alfonzo’s mouth descended. He liked Sergio, but disliked getting involved in another’s man relationship. “I’m not a marriage counselor Serge. Just ask the favor.”

  “Can you have one of your guys tail Lucia so I ‘ll know for sure.”

  “She has a chauffeur slash bodyguard, ask him where she goes.”

  “That’ll tip her off, besides I think she would’ve paid him to keep quiet, comprende? That’s my second Spanish word of the day.”

  “You’re too much!” Alfonzo smiled. Young men like Sergio always brought levity to serious men. “Who chose the guard?”

  “She did.”

  “Mistake number one primo, big mistake.”

  “Yeah, but he’s been her driver for years.”

  Alfonzo shrugged. “Then hey, no stressing me.” Alfonzo stood. “I’m not a couple’s therapist. Just ask Lucia if she’s having an affair.” He circled from behind the desk, realizing his mother’s words had stricken him deeper than usual and Sergio’s concern had rewound time like the retro sneakers to a period when he discovered his wife’s infidelity. He needed air, not Air Jordan’s.

  He walked past Sergio, straight out the door, leaving the dude sitting there. When he reached the middle of the corridor is when Sergi
o started running down the hall.

  Alfonzo shouted to the receptionist. “Cancel my appointments!”

  “Hey, hold up, I still have four minutes,” Sergio said traipsing after Alfonzo who had such a pissed off expression, he wondered what occurred before he entered his office. “I need to know for sure. She takes Junior to her mom’s and then goes off somewhere.”

  Alfonzo punched the elevator button. His mind was elsewhere, yet he listened to Sergio’s pleas for assistance. “What does your gut tell you primo?”

  “She loves me.”

  Alfonzo’s guards joined them before the elevator opened, bookending the pair.

  “That’s how it should be, so why the doubt?”

  “I know she’s a shopaholic but that’s never prevented her from answering my calls. This morning she dropped Junior off at her mom’s and I haven’t spoken to her since. I can’t even reach the driver.”

  The elevator opened and Alfonzo’s security entered and scanned every corner of the metal and then turned to his Boss. “All’s clear,” he said.

  Alfonzo stepped in. He observed signs of worry on Sergio’s face. Suspecting Lucia of cheating wasn’t the entire story. Sergio was fearful something might have happened to his spouse. 

  Alfonzo opted to aid the man. If anything had happened to Lucia, he didn’t want the guilt on his conscience for dismissing Sergio’s request. He had enough shit on his brain.

  Alfonzo removed his phone and bugged Nico again. “Hey, do you have a tracker on Lucia?”

  “I can access her location, why?”

  “Find out where she is and then call me.”

  “Sergio crying on your shoulder? He is, isn’t he, the damn crybaby.”

  “Just call me back!” Alfonzo snapped.

  The jabs at Sergio became irritating. Giuseppe treated Nico similarly. Alfonzo tired of the infighting. The guys needed to grow the hell up!

  The elevator descended to the sub-basement’s garage. Nico worked quick and returned with an address. He whispered, “Lucia’s location has the galleria near Via Libertá. She’s in the Torregrossa store.”

  Alfonzo lowered his head, and ducked inside the vehicle.

  “Gracias,” Alfonzo said to the Capo holding open the door and then he pat the seat for Sergio to get his ass in. He gave his driver an address and then said, “Thanks Nico.”

  The Capo took the front seat, spoke on his radio and received feedback. “La plaza is good, proceed, two clicks behind you is Sancho in the silver car.”

  “Bueno,” The Capo said and then switched to Spanish after raising Sancho. “Si, la galleria.”

  “So, she is at the mall?” Sergio asked as the car rolled under concrete beams.

  “In the vicinity,” Alfonzo replied, before putting his finger in the air before taking his wife’s call. “Yeah babe?”

  “Your mom called. Apparently, she’s softening,” she said cheerfully.

  Alfonzo didn’t share Selange’s excitement.

  He gave a subdued response, “Is that right?”

  The vehicle emerged onto the piazza after traveling through the underground tunnel and exiting several kilometers away from his office building.

  “Yes. She’s still angry but I believe she’ll eventually forgive you. She said she made the shrimp mofongo because she knew how much you loved it.”

  “Did you tell her I didn’t get to eat any because you went Brooklyn on Ari?”

  “No,” she laughed and then said, “I’m sorry honey. I’ll ask her to send more.”

  He smiled, deep in his heart he felt good that Selange had a part of something she’d lost. His relationship with his mother was fractured, however she was alive, and that’s what mattered most. 

  “That’s okay. I’m good.” He felt warm inside listening to his wife’s happy banter. “Guess you’ve cooled down.”

  “Ugh, I’m still angry at Ari. I feel like capping her ass.” She vented.

  “Say the word,” he replied and then reclined his head.

  “Okeydokey.”

  “Okay, it’ll be done.”

  “No –no I’m only kidding. I meant figuratively.”

  “Glad to hear that, ‘cause you have the power to make the call, but sometimes it’s best to know when to dial that number.”

  “Oh I know that. Everything isn’t life or death. She has a problem, though.”

  “She’s had that issue for a while babe. Before I had the opportunity to know her better, I considered washing my hands years ago, but I realized, Nico loves and needs that woman. He’ll curtail her extracurricular activities. The way I see it, she’s an asset to the family.”

  “An asset thief you mean.”

  Alfonzo chuckled. “With legal knowledge you can use to your advantage once you forgive her and set new boundaries, mainly what the consequences are for misappropriating funds in the future.”

  “Wow, I’m not sure I can trust her after what she did.”

  “You’ll be surprised how quick some people reform when facing an ass-whooping or burial. ”

  “But, do you think she can Al?”

  “Hey, it’s possible –you did.”

  “But I wasn’t a habitual thief!” She snapped.

  “Nah –nah you weren’t but sin is sin.” He stretched his legs, scratched his nose and then snort. “Look babe, forgive or not, is up to you but Ari hasn’t been faking friendship, nah, I peeped that for a while. You also care about Ari, don’t lie.”

  “Be quiet voice of reason!” She chuckled. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “Every day babe. The truth is in those gorgeous eyes and actions.”

  There was a slight laugh. “Ah, honey –honey –honey you make loving you real easy.”

  “Bueno, ‘cause I swear I’m not about unnecessary relationship drama at this age.”

  “I guess we’ll never have a reality show then, we’re too boring.”

  “Aint shit boring about us, anybody record this familia those ratings would shoot through the roof.”

  “True that, anyway, are we still on for that grand opening tonight?”

  Alfonzo watched the scenery change from stone structures to highway.

  “Shit, I forgot.” He checked his watch. He was expected at a black tie event at eight. His company completed the addition to an old opera house. Of course his wife was eager to attend. “Thanks babe for the reminder.  Yeah, I’ll be home before six.” He hoped.

  “Okay, by the way thanks for fixing that problem. You’re a lifesaver. I love you to pieces. I have to finish a new campaign but I’m so excited. It’s been a while since I went to the opera.”

  “Yeah,” he squinted as he tried to concentrate on the future. His chest expanded when he took a breath. Let her be happy…let her have whatever she wants and be so good to her that she’ll have forever memories, were the unspoken thoughts from Alfonzo’s inner monologue. The vehicle sped underneath cloudy skies. He wanted to tell her about his troubles, instead he replied, “Love you, and see you tonight.”

  When they reached the mall he scoffed at the crowds. He called Nico to confirm Lucia hadn’t departed.

  “Nope, she’s still shopping,” Nico, commented.

  Sergio heard. Undecided about his next move, he frowned. Searching through the stores like a jealous husband would make him look like a chump.

  “Maybe, her battery died or there isn’t a good signal,” Sergio said to Alfonzo.

  Alfonzo checked his watch. “Look Serge, if you want I’ll send one of my guys in to find her ass, just say when primo.”

  Sergio’s mouth twisted from side to side. Finally he said, “Nah, let her shop. I’m not searching her out like some chick.”

  “You sure primo?”

  Sergio nodded. The crowded sidewalk in front of the swanky galleria held several groups of tourists in their vendor shirts with the boot of Italy slogans or the Italian flag. Some posed together, snapped pictures of buildings and in their exuberance unkno
wingly solicited thieves who took advantage of visitors. Sifting through numerous stores for his wife among the hordes had become unappealing. He changed his mind and decided to tell Alfonzo that he’d go back to the office, work till late and let Lucia worry for a while.

  Then he had further ideas on how to pay Lucia back for making him worry. He’d go home in time for dinner, kiss his son goodnight and then visit his Uncle Nico for surveillance advice. Yes, he deliberated during the pause, Nico would show him how to use the equipment and maybe he’d discover a tiny gadget to stick on Lucia’s twat.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Drop me back at the office. I have a lot of work to do, fuck it!”

  “No problem.” Alfonzo reclined his head, peering at Sergio beneath hooded lashes. He wanted to tell the dude, ‘I feel you primo, I’ve been there before, that place in my marriage where trust was compromised and lies were the non-verbal communication. I know all about loving but not wanting to be a fool.’ He couldn’t, though, nah, every relationship is not the same, every love is meant to go through pain and every man had to decide whether the woman was worth the heartache. Not every relationship is meant to endure. Anyway, he wasn’t holding Sergio’s hand. The man had to go through the bad to appreciate the good, just like he had and shut the fuck up about the growing pains.

  The driver took Alfonzo’s clue and turned on his playlist songs.

  The stroke of piano keys and a dope beat supported the rapper’s musical tone. The profane hook from the lyricist had the Boss man bopping along. German, observed the clues when his Boss wanted peace. He either went silent or got this mean look.

  The driver suspected Alfonzo reflected during those moments, or went Zen for inner serenity to cope with the tumultuous world of mafia people.

   

  ‘My life owes me –like an overdose,

  I’m slowly –drifting into the arms of trouble,

  Then trouble holds me…’

   

  “Who’s the artist?” Sergio asked.

  “Ssssh,” Alfonzo replied.  “Turn it up German!”

  Alfonzo hadn’t slept well last night after loving his wife. Giuseppe’s dog interrupted his sleep. The troublesome pit-bull jumped on their bed and whined to go out for a piss. Sal was knocked-out, the teen didn’t hear shit sometimes, although Alfonzo suspected he had selective hearing when responsibility entailed dragging his ass out of bed to walk a dog at one or two in the morning.