by S. W. Frank
“Okay, love you,” she responded.
“Te amo, tambien. I’ll ring you in the morning, buenos noche nena,” he said with slurred words as fatigue tugged at him.
“Umwah.”
Selange gave him a kiss. That’s what he needed for a restful sleep. The sandman arrived and stomped him beneath the black beach.
Chapter Eleven
Yosef ducked his head listening to his wife as they walked off calories after the hearty meal. Their leisurely stroll across the brick path on his property might have been romantic had Sophie refrained from nonsense talk surrounding an annulment.
The Irish green blades of grass marked the changing season, alerting those with sight to the approach of summer. Vision was not needed, when an inhalation of flowers sprouting wildly across the landscape told the Israeli.
Yosef frowned irritably, although his stomach was full. The beautiful orange glow of evening would soon have replacement of a chalky moon. His lip curled in a snarl and he stopped abruptly. They had walked far from the house, her guards had not followed. He did not require their hovering, Yosef was not fearful of these lands or its people. He had lived in the wilderness of chaos called war and prison. The silence rustling on the breeze came without the screeching before the bombings. He knew the antecedent sounds of an attack, men are often very loud.
His piercing eyes descended to the lovely face of Sophie, who through great fortune the master painter stroked a light denoise upon her as she aged. She did resemble the Italian beauty Sophia Loren, however, there was more to Sophie than her exterior appearance; a fierce spirit existed within.
His fists clenched. Years of striking bones had made them hard as stone. For Sophie he would murder an army to keep her at his side in this second chapter of his life until the end of life’s book.
Perhaps, he should not have snarled like a beast or exhibited anger through the prominent veins pushing outward on his muscled neck before shouting. “We are married for life. You are my wife accept this!” But he did.
Sophie looked upon Yosef’s carved features. She did not flinch or cower. Carlo was also considered a brute, but beneath his frightening persona she found an honorable and loving person. Yosef wore the warrior’s vest; his country of strife had birthed necessity for the garment. Children from places of conflict required fortitude to survive. She saw him in transitional days when he was an idealistic young officer and wondered what occurred over the span of time to shape the disgruntled Mafiya.
“Yosef, I cannot live without seeing my grandchildren. They are the world to me.”
“Their parents are childish adults. I will speak to them.”
Sophie took his arm. He wore a short sleeved shirt which showed the healed cut from Nico’s blade. The scar was a reminder of the hatred those she loved had for her new husband. This bargain to keep her alive now seemed a death sentence. She cared for Yosef, but love is what she held for her family. Amelda had yet to return from Milan. Usually, Amelda entrusted her with the child, but this morning she informed her Ignacio will stay with the old hag Peglesi in her cobweb estate. Her heart was low when Giuseppe had arrived afterward to strike more blows to a mother’s heart.
She had spoiled her children with love and spitefulness was the repayment. She saved Giuseppe from the clutches of the manipulative Geovonna, gave Amelda a fairytale wedding without contribution from Matteo’s famiglia and ungratefulness is what she received. The Peglesi’s vineyards were not yielding profits for many years, and they could not afford the lavish wedding her daughter desired. Carlo on the other-hand invested wisely leaving such wealth, neither Sophie or her children would want for anything.
Yosef tensed as her finger traced the scar. The piercing eyes softened because he could never release her; he did not want to. “I’ve longed for you in dreams. Your face never faded from my mind. Stand with your husband and let your children come to their senses.”
“Do not make it worse. Por favore, if you care for me, divorce me and allow fate to run its course.”
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, grabbing her to his rigid body. “I cannot Sophie. We are wed until death. Is marriage to me that reprehensible you seek immediate distance?”
She found Yosef alluring. But danger was always her middle name Carlo often chided. If she were to answer truthfully, she would want peace with her children and Yosef in her bed. But she could not choose a man over her family. “I am not in love with you. I want you Yosef. There must be more to marriage than sex.”
“We have more in common than you admit.”
“Such as?”
“We are survivors, enjoy risk and are nonconformist.”
“You make it sound as if we are rebels Yosef.”
“But we are rebels Sophie, fighting the cages that seek to tame our spirits.”
Sophie sighed. “What about the joyful laughter as family gathers for holidays which are my cherished tradition, is that not important as well?”
“Those are the bounties of happiness I want also. Your children are adults and you should not allow them to decide what is best for their mother. To comply usurps the power of the parent. Do not succumb to manipulation by your offspring. Trust that they will find emptiness without your wisdom and recognize their mistakes.”
“You are quite persuasive Yosef Glavovitz. I am sure you were a great leader.”
Yosef’s mouth descended at the reference to his former military career which ended sourly. “You see, another commonality; we are reasonable. Do not struggle against who you are.”
Sophie shut her eyes. The heaviness of her heart propelled her to Yosef’s chest. Her head remained against the hard comfort, wishing Carlo had not died, and she was not forced to exist in a loveless shell, wanting the strong arms of Yosef, yet needing her children. “I must go, it is getting late,” she whispered.
He did not release her. “Tonight you will stay. I do not want you to take the two hour drive at night without more protection. In the morning I will escort you.”
Sophie was weary. Giuseppe’s words had stricken a mother to nothing and on the drive through the small towns and tolls she questioned her treachery. Was it true she had besmirched her husband’s name?
Oh, Carlo, mio amore, why did you die so soon, perché?
Yosef’s arms tightened around her. He did have affections other than power and money. The lovely Sophie within his protective embrace stood atop the pile. An annulment was not in the future. He already secured through false words her hand and with the gambler’s bluff –won.
“I cannot stay.” Sophie exhaled. “My nipote and wife are attending a dinner party and I have already agreed to care for the children.”
“They can hire someone, aye!”
“But I enjoy my family Yosef. If we were to remain married, this subject is non-negotiable and something you must accept.”
“If you cease talk of divorce I will accept.”
Sophie leaned against his arm, gripping his wrist with her free hand, staring up at him with cat eyes. “Come to my home in the morning, I will prepare breakfast for you –husband.”
“Do not think to drug me or have me placed in prison again Sophie. I can tell your mind is working schemes for divorce, and I will not forgive another double-cross.”
“Then you are not a very trusting husband bello.”
“I am not stupid.”
“No bello, you are far from slow witted.”
“I will be there early and the food that I want will be your flesh.”
“You are naughty.”
“I have been told.” He grabbed her ass and then kissed her farewell. In the departing gesture she bit his tongue. He smir
ked; Sophie’s sexual appetite had not diminished. In fact, maturity brought less sexual inhibitions.
Chapter Twelve
“Okay, Semira’s out for the count.” Nico announced and then whistled when he caught sight of his wife’s ass encased in a sexy black dress as she bent over to slip on her shoe.
“You’re a wolf now, huh?”
Nico grimaced, peering toward the hall, thinking maybe they should skip Tony’s gig and stay home. But, Sophie was already en route and they were running late because Ari wanted to make sure Semira had eaten and was in bed when Sophie arrived.
“I’m more dangerous than a wolf.” Nico replied. He gave a devilish grin. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Tell me more,” Ari said as she stood erect and then sashayed toward her hubby. She halted at his chest and straightened his tie. “Um you look handsome in that suit Nico darling.”
“Ah bella, you make me hard.”
A wife’s hand caressed the soft fabric covering his sizable package. Yes he was. “Tonight, I’ll give you a soft place to put your hard head.” Then she patted his butt and sauntered out the bedroom.
Nico grunted. Ari didn’t play fair, damn.
When he followed her downstairs, the group of youngsters were assembled in the living room chatting.
Sal gave Aunt Ari a compliment and she smirked at the handsome boy who inherited his dad’s charm. “You’re too much like your dad cutie pie. Be careful, girls might want to keep you.”
Sal was confused which caused Nico to chuckle. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” He then clapped his hands and ran down the list of does and don’ts like a drill sergeant. “And he concluded, we have to leave now, but Auntie Sophie will be here in about an hour. So, behave, that includes you Anna. I don’t think any of you will like me when I’m mad.”
Aaron stood and did a bodybuilding pose. “Yeah, he gets like the hulk, urgh!” he said mockingly.
The schmucks laughed.
“Funny.”
At the door, Ari glared at the kids. “You better not wake Semira and I expect you to act like you have sense because your dad may be the Hulk when he gets mad, but I’m the Tasmanian devil.”
The minute the door closed, Darren leaped to his feet. “Okay Sal, when Nonna Sophie gets here you're to tell her we went for pizza –and Anna you make sure you keep her real busy. She likes cooking so ask her to teach you how to make something, we gotta go.”
“Where exactly are you going?” Sal asked.
The twins looked at each other. They couldn’t tell Sal, he might squeal.
Aaron answered, “We’re really going to get pizza, but first I’m stopping at a party to say what’s up to my friends.”
“A party?” Sal inquired with a skeptical brow and twisted mouth. “Really, do you think I’m stupid?”
“Listen cuz, we’ll be back before my parents. Just cover for us, you're quick on your feet that’s why we needed you to help us out. We’ll owe you big-time.” That was Darren’s comment before they disappeared through the door.
Sal shook his head. This deception for some reason made him uneasy. He turned to the runaway who Aaron claimed needed a place to crash for a while and his parents took her in. But Sal could see Anna and Darren were more than friends. Heck they had kissed earlier before his parents came downstairs. They were also whispering in the kitchen. Sal suspected this party and pizza story was to cover something major.
The girl was cute, nice figure and all, but he wasn’t willing to get in trouble over a runaway stranger. “Where are they really going?” he asked in a deeper voice than usual. His vocal chords had experienced another malfunction and presented with a hoarse quality and then a squeaky sound. His dad said he was going through physical changes associated with sexual maturity, his mom said, aka puberty. He did his own research to learn when the stage of embarrassment was projected to end. So, uncool to sound like a dude one minute and then a chipmunk the next.
“You know what they’re up to, don’t you Anna?”
“I can’t tell you. Darren said not to.”
Sal tossed his arm over the edge of the sofa. He imitated his dad’s intimidating stare. “You don’t know who my dad is, do you?”
Anna appeared anxious. “No.”
“You will if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Trust me; you don’t want to be on his bad side.”
Anna spilled her guts. What she revealed caused Sal’s mouth to drop open.
The ex-husband Anna mentioned had the same name as Sophie’s new husband. Sal had overheard his parents discussing Sophie’s speedy nuptials. They said she remarried a Jewish guy. They were concerned about Uncle Geo being upset when he found out, but they said Uncle would understand when they explained why Sophie married Yosef in a hurry. Man, oh man Sal thought as he sat forward, this Yosef sure got around.
Chapter Thirteen
“Um, Giuseppe.” Nicole moaned when Giuseppe kissed her again when she tried to slide out the car for the second time, but he reached for her hand and pulled her back to his lap. “Seriously, I had a great day, but I really have to go. There’s a dinner party underway,” she said as his hand caressed her thigh.
Carlo was asleep on the opposite seat. After the show they went to an arcade and then a child friendly restaurant near the shops where tourists frequented. That is where many of the fast food establishments were. Giuseppe preferred home cooked meals or the rich ‘cucina povera' of Palermo; the fine country cooking of the interior; the excellent seafood of the Aeolian Islands and Taormina where the ingredients were local. He ate in the fine restaurants, small trattorias, enjoyed picnic lunches, exalted in the best of Sicilian cooking which included fresh vegetables, spices and an assortment of courses. But the best meals were had at a table with famiglia. However on occasion he broke tradition out of necessity.
“You did not invite me to this event.”
“No I didn’t. This is my sister’s shindig.”
“So.”
“So, I have to respect that.”
“What is disrespectful about inviting a guest?”
“Oh lawdy, you have no sense of etiquette. A hostess makes a list and any uninvited guest equates to another setting and is considered rude.”
“Rules, customs, ugh.” He chuckled. “They suffocate free spirits.”
“Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong with having manners on occasion. I recall you mentioning at your cousin’s wedding that he wanted a woman as Best Man which upset the bride’s family. That’s a custom isn’t it?” She kissed his cheek. “Sometimes check yourself before you speak.”
Giuseppe’s mouth tugged downward. “Will you stick around to teach me manners donna?”
“I’m sure your mama taught you etiquette. You’re just a big kid who refuses to practice them.”
“Ay, bella, you are what I need.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, gave him another kiss and then replied, “What you need right now is to put Carlo to bed and stop trying to seduce me.”
Giuseppe laughed. The smile faded when Nico’s car pulled in front of the house. “Tiffany has invited the stronzo, but not me?”
Nicole turned to see the guests emerging. She’d never seen the couple before,
but holy crap, Tiffany associated with some fly ass people. The mocha skin lady worked the hell out of the black evening dress and lord have mercy her escort was hotter than burning water in the midnight tux. Tall, with an unmistakable swagger, she wondered if he emerged from a magazine. Giuseppe's fiery liquid is what she wanted to drink, however she did have eyeballs.
“What…stronzo…why did you say that?” she asked.
“That is my cugino and his wife.” He released her waist at the sound of a buzzing. He had ignored his calls most of the day, checking text messages for any that were an emergency and if not he put the cell away to give Carlo and Nicole his undivided attention. This message was from Matteo, he pat Nicole’s ass as she made her escape. “Tell my cazzo cugino buongiorno!”
Nicole laughed as she backed away from the car, blowing him a kiss. “I’ll call you later. Put that boy to bed Giuseppe.”
“If you do not call I will return.”
“No you won’t. Child protective services will be at your door.”
“I will bring Carlo with me.”
“No you won’t, you are a good father and not selfish,” she parried as she continued across the lawn.
“That is true, ciao,” he answered. He laughed when she slipped into the house like a thief.
Giuseppe looked around the quiet landscape. The lights were on in the modest villa. He could see shadows of people moving across the curtains. Nico’s silhouette was easy to spot. But the person with the burgeoning gut, he could not identify. He let Matteo’s call go to voicemail and called Nico.
Nico answered surrounded by acoustic music. “Cosa cugino?”
“You did not tell me about this party for Tony.”
“Why should I?”
“Because we are famiglia.”
“Is there a point to this call cazzo?”
“Sí. Have a word with Tony, he has no security.”
“He has a gun and so do I.”
“Bene. Is the job done?”
“What do you think the smiley face meant?” Nico asked sarcastically.
There was laughter in the background. Giuseppe smirked. “Tell Tony we are no longer amici.”
“Cugino, get the fuck off the phone. I saw your damn car out there. If you weren’t invited…then that might tell you something…news flash…you’re not his friend. Ciao!”
