Affirmation

by S. W. Frank

  “Sabes chica, ahora frío!”

  Her small nose wrinkled and she looked from one parent to the other, “What’s that smell?”

  “Aye Aldonza, silencio!” Maria censured as she wagged her finger at the girl.

  “Mommy…mommy…Nana told me to be quiet.”

  “Well, Allie, I suggest you show respect by listening,” Selange co-signed.

  The girl fell silent and Sal laughed, ecstatic the little big-mouth troublemaker was finally put in her place. “Did you like the surprise mom?” Sal asked.

  Selange glanced at Alfonzo who bounced Vincent on his lap and her brilliant smile diminished every glittery gem. Their eyes met and Alfonzo winked, and mouthed, “Te amo.”

  The action sent Selange’s heart aflutter and when she answered Sal her voice was breathless, “I loved it sweetheart. I really did, I loved every minute of my surprises!”

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER FOUR

   

   

   

   

  Giuseppe put the device to his ear and kicked the covers away. He wasn’t much of a morning person and in a house full of Diaz children he found it impossible to rest. The miniature wildlings were everywhere, chatting and screeching at full volume. He didn’t understand how Alfonzo endured the racket. Even with sound-proof walls, the boisterous children’s voices managed to seep into his head. Then he noticed why, the door was cracked open and a kid around three years old stood there, sucking a bottle and staring at him without fear.

  “Vai avanti, ti ascolto!” He said to the voice on the far end of the phone with an eye on the shirtless toddler wearing a gold chain. He wondered whose kid this one belonged to. There were so many of Alfonzo’s family about, he couldn’t keep up. He abandoned the effort of memorizing names and assigned titles instead. There was Little Diaz, Big Diaz, and Female Diaz and so on.

  “There’s a woman fitting the description in Puerto Plata, except with short hair. I’ve sent a man to check it out.” The voice responded in Italian.

  “I am tired of these reports. Do not call again Tolo unless it is a positive ID, capisce?”

  “Sì, signore, ho capito.”

  “Buono!” Giuseppe growled before he disconnected and stared at the short boy watching him with an amused stare. “And what is your name, are you part of the Diaz clan, bambino?” He asked.

  The toddler kept sucking on that damn bottle. Giuseppe stood to his full height and sauntered toward the child and removed the plastic from his mouth and it made a ‘plop’ sound. “You are too big for this.”

  “No, mine!” The child exclaimed while trying to snatch it from Giuseppe’s outstretched hand.

  A wicked smirk reshaped the sensual mouth. “Want it, come, and take it bambino grande?”

  “Estupido!”

  “Stronzo.”

  “Estupido!” The boy repeated.

  “Cazzo.”

  “Mine!”

  “No, mine!” Giuseppe answered and then hunched down on one knee to flick a finger at the boy’s chest, “Besides, I am thirsty and you brought nothing for me to drink and for the sign of disrespect I will take yours.” He unscrewed the top and guzzled the warm milk. “Um.” Shockingly, it was very good. He wondered if it was breast milk. He drank more and the boy’s face went through a series of exaggerated expressions. Finally, the toddlers’ frustration escalated and instead of crying as expected, Baby Diaz thrust out his bare chest and gave Giuseppe a mean face.

  The tightly pursed lips, squinty eyes and the bold challenge received a howl from Giuseppe. The boy could teach people a thing or two about courage. “Ah merda, un po Diaz!”

  It is then the child shrieked. Giuseppe’s bass of a laugh is what set him off. The decibel level brought Giuseppe to his feet bringing the child with him.  The racket increased and grated on his nerves. “Now you cry?”

  Merda! He stormed into the corridor and bellowed, “Ciao Diaz’, have you misplaced a bambino?”

  A skinny female, undoubtedly the young fugitive’s mother appeared at the far end of the corridor. Seeing her child brought a sigh of relief, followed by a shocked expression at his distress and the large man holding her son. In haste, she scurried to the boy, failing in an attempt not to gawk. She apologized profusely, “Lo siento, senor. He likes to explore and this is a big home and there’s more trouble for him to find. Ven aquí nino.”

  She blushed in embarrassment when she neared Giuseppe. The tan cheeks colored a deep red. A smoldering sexuality radiated from the extremely buffed specimen of human flesh.  She quickly took her son from Giuseppe’s arms and his empty bottle, unable to look Alfonzo’s brother in the face.

  Giuseppe dismissed the woman’s coyness and gestured to the child. “Supervise the bambino,” he responded curtly, “and give him a proper cup. He is not a baby anymore, signora!”

  Her eyes darted everywhere to avoid contact under his intimidating glare. “Sí.”

  Unamused, by the morning interruption and the skittish woman he grumbled as he turned. Certainly, she’d seen a naked man before, unless she went the way of artificial insemination. These American women were prudish irritants. They were appalled by nudity and possessed a warped sense of beauty. There’s nothing appealing about an emaciated woman. The child’s fragile mother could use a hearty Sicilian meal. Ah, this morning he detested everything. The foul mood came courtesy of an elusive pregnant lady who simply disappeared in thin air. His temper flared thinking about Shanda. The daughter of the polizei managed to cover her trail like a professional. The anger surfaced as he marched into the bedroom and slammed the door. When he found the insufferable femmina, she’d pay dearly once he confirmed she carried his bambino. 

  Cecelia jumped nervously and hurried to the stairs after receiving an unobstructed view of Giuseppe’s backside. Her husband’s cousin’s brother was a scrumptious specimen. He was the epitome of masculinity and very well endowed. “¡Dios mío!” She exclaimed at the pulsing of blood in her chest. The shameless nudist appeared very angry. Heaven help the person responsible.  

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER FIVE

   

   

   

   

  “Gee –sit!” Shanda ordered.

  The puppy obeyed, and wagged its tail playfully.

  “Good dog…you listen better than most men.” She said and placed a doggy treat in his mouth before leaving. There were errands to run before nightfall, however she promised to play with the obedient pup when she returned.

  She hit the remote starter as she sashayed down the drive toward her late model car. She recited the grocery list aloud and wondered why she just hadn’t written the items down. More gourmet dog food, sugar, milk, rolls, apples, batteries for the flashlight, water and rice. There was talk of a hurricane. The forecasters warned of a tropical storm expected to strike on Wednesday before going out to sea. Island people took storm alerts very seriously, unlike back home. Everyone she talked to warned she should stock her cabinets and prepare.

  Shanda drove out the driveway, oblivious to the flashbulb of a camera from a car stationed near a villa further along the road as she turned up the volume on the radio and bobbed her head to a contagious rap beat.

   

   

   

  ****

   

   

   

  Alfonzo did a walk-through of the garden as he chatted with Lou. The wedding planner earned his salary. The floral arrangements and
outdoor seating were of the finest quality. Everything, including the gazebo where he’d exchange wedding vows was accented with gold. He stressed to the eccentric organizer to keep it tasteful. The final outcome properly represented him and Selange. They were both low-key with fine tastes. Gaudy was not their moniker like many others with wealth.

  “Nobody’s allowed through the first checkpoint without an invitation. Make sure you inform the men if there’s an asterisk next to a name on the checklist, its close family and I better not hear they were disrespected.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “You’re off duty today Lou. Today you’re just the family friend.”

  Lou rarely smiled, but on this occasion the hardened face softened, “I can do that.”

  “Bueno.” Alfonzo stated and stopped walking. His gaze went to the main house. Inside the women were in charge. They were dolling up the kids and Selange was getting the works, hair, make-up, unnecessary shit because she was beautiful without it. He’d marry her in a ponytail and jeans.

  This morning his surprise went well, but his mind kept doing this ‘oh goddamn’ commentary whenever he looked at Selange. Besides the kids, Selange didn’t have one blood relative in the mix. For months he scoured heaven and earth to locate Selange’s aunt, but to no avail. The woman’s losses were compounded by Shanda’s sudden disappearance. Shanda gave Selange away at their first wedding, which was bold and untraditional. He’d laughed his ass off later. He had his opinion about Shanda, but his feelings didn’t factor into the equation. Selange and Shanda were friends for years, way before he came into the picture. What he forgot is blood doesn’t make family, loyalty does.  The realization stirred him into action and he asked Lou, “Any news on Shanda?”

  “Giuseppe’s guys are checking out a lead.”

  “Is it promising?”

  “Seems so.” Lou stated.

  Alfonzo found himself between a rock and a hard place. Stand aside or intervene. With Giuseppe’s on-going ill-temper he feared for Shanda. The girl was Sal’s godmother and Selange’s best friend. He had an obligation to ensure she wasn’t harmed. “If the lead pans out, I want to know immediately. You understand Lou?”

  “Gotcha.”

  Alfonzo stiffened. There was another important matter nagging at his brain and he needed it resolved. “Where are we on Alberti’s killer?”

  “We’ve got nothing boss.”

  “That’s not acceptable Lou.”

  “I’ll have the guys increase the pressure.”

  “Do that.” Alfonzo scrutinized the older man’s face. Lou served his father for many years. He was considered an old school Mafioso, loyal, and unquestioning. “Lou, you’re privy to information concerning my father’s business associates. What’s your take on his relationship with Bruno?”

  Lou’s jaw tightened. This is the first time Alfonzo asked his personal opinion about someone. Alfonzo read a person better than anyone. Lou figured he wanted a fresh pair of eyes on the matter, mainly because he couldn’t remain objective when it involved his mom. He couldn’t offer Alfonzo anything other than what he’d already told him, which really wasn’t much. “Luzo and Bruno were good friends. He once said Bruno was his own man. He comes from old money, but made his fortune by sweat and smarts and didn’t take a dime from his father to do it. Your father said he respected that.”

  Alfonzo snort, “I asked what you witnessed and not hearsay Lou!”

  Lou respected his young employer. He’d been with his father, walked side by side with Luzo and heard and saw a lot of things. A man standing in that position was entrusted with confidential information and expected to keep a closed lip. Death didn’t negate the confidentiality rule. See, there’s some information a loyal soldier never disclosed and took that information to their grave.

  The organizers added final touches to the tent. Circular solar lamps were being placed in strategic areas near the entrance and walkway. At night they’d cast an illumination skyward to give an illusion of gold balls. Lou observed the faces of the people and their mannerisms as they worked. He learned in this business, any one, at any time could do a man, but there were always signs, you just had to know what to look for and he did. He answered his boss, “Bruno spoke forthright to your father. He never caged the truth even if Luzo didn’t like it. He also gave him sound business advice on occasion. Overall, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Humph.”

  “There’s another matter that’s arisen. Don Schifani is requesting a personal audience.”

  Alfonzo’s brow furrowed, “Why?”

  “His man didn’t say. He issued a formal appeal invoking the Giacanti name.”

  Alfonzo gave an exasperated sigh; he needed to speak to Giuseppe since Don Schifani was on his brother’s payroll. However, out of respect for his loyalty to his grandfather, he’d hear the old man out. “Schedule him after the meeting in Malta. Make certain he’s aware Giuseppe will be present. I do not engage in subterfuge when it comes to my brother.”

  Lou nodded, “Got it.”

  “Good.” Alfonzo replied. His trip to Malta was very important. He planned to have a sit-down with five of the most influential families in Italy about Josef Timpico. There was something nagging the shit out of him. His gut was screaming. It wasn’t a coincidence another of his investments was seeing a significant drop in profits and he needed to find out what the hell was going on. 

  Alfonzo ceased talking shop and scoffed. Business!

  Lou gestured to the enormous tent. The silk material shimmering in the sun near the porticos flowed like silk drapes when a slight breeze blew. “It looks good.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Alfonzo replied. He started walking and his long strides were matched by the Capo. “Do a thorough check on the security and then I expect you at my wedding, minus the office ramblings, comprende?”

  “I hear you boss.”

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER SIX

   

   

   

   

  Amelda put the finishing touches on Selange’s hair and stepped back to view her masterpiece, “Bellissimo!”

  The other women nodded their agreement. Selange’s eyes turned to the mirror, which Amelda forbid her to peek at until she finished. She’d even slapped Selange’s hand a few times when she tried to sneak a look at her reflection. “Wow,” Selange gasped when she stared at the flowing curls, pulled loosely to the back to accent her oval face and high cheekbones.

  Amelda gave her a smaller mirror to check out the rear. Selange gently touched her hair, marveling at the impressive intricate crisscross design secured by a diamond hairclip. “What can’t you do Amelda?” She asked, blinking several times in an effort to adjust to the enhanced eyelashes the make-up artist put on.

  It was getting close to the ceremony and Selange enquired about a special guest. “Are you sure your mom’s coming Amelda?”

  “Yes, she would not miss this. She is coming with Bruno and his family.”

  Selange grimaced. Maria was not going to like that!

  Lucia and Crystalia were on the balcony giving Selange a play by play on the arriving guests. “Oh, look at her dress. Shameless hussy.”

  “Who?” Amelda asked. The fashion designer’s curiosity surfaced and she deserted Selange to join the chatty women. Amelda followed their finger to a curvaceous woman wearing an inappropriate mini-dress heading to the seating area. “She is a prostitute!”

  “Ladies, promise you’ll play nice.” Selange said in a futile plea.

  “Nice. What is that?” Lucia joked.

  The women laughed and Selange smiled. They were hopeless!

  The door opened and Maria entered with Aldonza. “You look beautiful Selange. I’ve brought you a gift.”

  Selange stroked her daughter’s shiny tamed ringlets. Teresa did her hair and it looked lovely. “No more gifts Maria. My presen
ts are right here.”

  “But mommy, Nana says it’s something old. When you get married an old person has to give you old stuff, right Nana?”

  “’Donza, I did not say an old person has to give the gift. When did you hear this, eh?”

  Aldonza pulled a face, “Well, where do old things come from then Nana?”

  Selange censured her daughter. “Aldonza, that’s enough sweetheart. Nana is not old.”

  “Yes she is.”

  “Aldonza, callaté! Old things can be found everywhere. The trees are old; jewelry passed down from generations, even books can be old. People mature or age. To call Nana old is very rude, now apologize to Nana.”

  “Lo siento Nana.” The young girl replied too quickly and Selange frowned. Aldonza was far more difficult than Sal and when she returned home she promised to address the wayward behavior, especially that fresh mouth. 

  Selange’s friends were laughing at something and Maria took the opportunity to hand Selange a tiny gold broach, “This was my grandmother’s. She wore it on special occasions. I want you to wear it today. It serves a dual purpose. It is old and it is borrowed. I am honored to share it with you –daughter.”

  Selange pinned the lovely broach inside the bodice of her strapless wedding dress and then hugged the woman. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you Maria. Mucho gracias.”

  Maria smiled. Selange had grown lovelier with time. There was also wisdom in her eyes. The kind that comes from adversity. Maria noticed the shine forming and quickly snatched a tissue to dab at Selange’s eyes, “No tears mija.”

  Selange bowed her head. “Ah, Maria. I just wish my dad was here to walk me down the aisle, you know?”

  “Sí, yo se. I know …I know mija.”

  The painful scab loosened; the yearning for her parent’s had rubbed it off and the injury stung worse than ever. The comforting arms of a surrogate mother wrapped her in love on what should be a joyous occasion in a woman’s life. The absence of her parents is what made this happy moment bitter-sweet.

  “Mom, are you crying?” Sal asked from the doorway. He was clad in a black tux and stood exactly like his dad.