Affliction by S. W. Frank Page B

the traditions of others.”
    “ Italians are old-fashioned,” Alfonzo retorted.
    “ You want tua madre happy Alfonzo, sí?” Matteo questioned. His eyes were squints. “Of course you do. It is every son’s desire to ease the stress of mothers, especially as they age. Mia madre has ailing bones; her mind although not feeble, sometimes relives old ways. Giuseppe agrees there are traditions that for the sake of family we maintain for peaceable days, sí?”
    Alfonzo cocked a brow and looked at Giuseppe. Sometimes he forgot he remained the outsider. He was not born or raised in Italy; there were many things about the people and their culture he had yet to learn. He checked his watch and then posed a question to Giuseppe. “Do you agree?”
    “Sí fratellino. Although I find Matteo a meddling ass, I side with tradition. Sergio must become familiar with the custom of Lucia’s famiglia otherwise he will bring turmoil to his wife’s fami glia.” He grinned. “Lucia’s mama is old school Catholic as you Americanos say.”
    “All right Matteo. Giuseppe will talk to Sergio and explain your antiquated customs, satisfied?”
    Giuseppe gestured with his hand. “Me?”
    “Since you agree with Matteo, you’re be tter equipped for the task. I’m staying neutral,” he replied. If he said more, they wouldn’t appreciate what ran through his mind. He wasn’t ecstatic about Sergio’s shotgun wedding. Lucia already showed and everybody wasn’t blind or stuck in the dark ages. A grown woman was pregnant, big deal. Geez, all their talk of tradition didn’t mean squat. What mattered was the couple’s happiness; otherwise the money they poured on the quickie wedding would go down the drain if they weren’t.
    Coño!
    “Ah you cazzo, I pray that I will not need to beat Sergio in to submission.”
    “Nah, you won’t, he’ll probably ask you to take the position anyway.”
    “That’s your place fratellino.”
    Alfonzo disagreed. Giuseppe needed more than work to occupy his mind as he mourned. To witness love blossom when men are not seeking affection is what Sergio’s wedding represented. Shanda was gone, but life continued. This is the straw Alfonzo hoped Giuseppe grasped to assist in the oncoming days. Perhaps, he might overcome his fear of cathedrals as well.
    “I can’t, I’m fine with Sergio’s choice but you guys aren’t. Therefore you ’re a good fill-in.” Alfonzo reclined with a loud yawn. Crap, he was exhausted. The kids were a handful, and moving things around the villa for his wife, on top of late hours had him beat. His eyes drooped. “Anyway, I’m allergic to pretense. Now leave me alone until we get where we’re going assholes,” he said and then took a short nap.
    Giuseppe kicked Alfonzo’s foot. “We have arrived!” he shouted louder than necessary .
    The instigator laughed at Alfonzo’s puffy eyes and the teardrop drool that dripped when he bolt upright to ask. “What…what?”
    Two hours after a cup of strong coffee, Alfonzo stood from the conference table and stretched his legs in front of the large window overlooking the piazza. He stared through glass at the old buildings filled with history as he thought about his wife. He didn’t like the drinking or the sullenness of her eyes. The strain of Shanda’s death had begun to unravel everyone around him it seemed, even Sophie didn’t appear right.
    He had planned to return to Calabria, to investigate whether there was credibility to what his father wrote in his diary but didn’t have the time. The nonsense about fulfilling promises almost half a century ago was just downright ridiculous. He considered a mini vacation with the family to Hibiscus Island or somewhere in the Caribbean Peninsula. They could use a break, even Giuseppe.
    His cell rang. He reached inside his suit and took the call because he knew who it was. “Hey babe,” he said anxious to talk after days of discourse.
    “Hi, do you have a moment?”
    “I do. What’s