Affirmation (9 page)

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.
S
he 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. Much
o
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 surrog
ate 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.

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

“
I’m fine Sal.
” Selange replied pulling away from her future mother-in-law and dabbing at her face.

“No she’s not,” Aldonza volunteered. “She’s crying because her daddy
’s
dead and he’s not here to walk her down the aisle. That’s what you said mommy!”

Selange
chastised Aldonza once again and Maria shook a finger in disapproval. Sal entered and addressed his mom like a man, although he was a child in stature and age. “Don’t cry mom.
I’ll stand in for
grandpa
and take
you
to
dad.”

Selange was speechless. Maria was to do the honors, yet Sal’s suggestion
is one she seriously considered and wondered why she hadn’t
thought of it
before. She looked over at Maria
who nodded her approval,
“It’s
a wonderful idea. Nothing is written in stone. Plans can always change.
”

The sadness lifted from her heart. When had Sal become this mature, she wondered?
“
Okay
Sal,
thanks for
helping me out
.”

The boy
pushed out
his chest and replied, “No problem,
mom. I got you.
”

She grinned, “You got me, huh?”

“That’s what dad says.”

Mom hugged her son, “And I
got
you hijo. I’ll have you until you tell me to let go.”

Sal made an exaggerated choking sound, “Okay, let go mama!”

The women laughed. Sal was too much.

                               ****

“Giuseppe, where’s the ring?”

“Don’t worry little brother, relax, it’s safe.” Giuseppe said patting his pocket. His smile broadened at Alfonzo’s anxious expression and he had to go there, “What are you nervous
about;
you’ve done this before and with the same woman,
unless
you
are
afraid
o
f
making
the same
mistake
twice
, eh
?”

“My mistake is asking you to be
my
best man.” Alfonzo
quipped
as he fumbled with
the silk bow-tie.
The truth is he was really nervous. He didn’t want anything to go wrong and he had a lot on his mind.

The designer, Tomás Gurtano personally delivered the tux and insisted upon staying as his important client dressed. He
b
rushed imaginary wrinkles from the custom designed tuxedo
jacket.
The
handsome groom
was an image of sophistication in the
cream
tux and certain to have the women guests commenting for ages. Tomás
pushed
aside
Alfonzo’s
clumsy hands
to properly fix the bow-tie
, unafraid of the rumored irascible temper
.

Alfonzo
fired a
stern
warning
, “
Do that again and you might lose a finger.”

“Ah, I have others.”
Tomás grinned.
Men of Alfonzo Diaz’ stature was accustomed to people cowering with a glance. Tomás dealt with many difficult clients. He utilized the direct approach; it's the only way to gain their respect.
“There,
done.
Perfecto!
”

Alfonzo checked himself out in the long mirror.
Giuseppe
was also captured in the reflection, “Looks good Tomás,
thanks
.”

“You look like the ice-cream man.” Giuseppe
chided
and then slapped
Alfonzo’s
upper
back.
“A very stylish one fratello.”

“Grazie.”

“
S
witching to
your
Italian
roots
, eh
?” Giuseppe laughed a
s he moved
to stand at his brother’s side and admired himself in the long mirror.
The
dark blue suit
strained to contain the broad shoulders and could not disguise the strength of its wearer.

Giuseppe sniffed and his nostrils flared at the sight.
He never liked being part of weddings, they were stupid ceremonies in his opinion
; f
airytale nonsense for women
to view in pictures with their friends.
Undoubtedly, there would be useless tchotchkes about the house
to
remind
the couple.
Amelda had an abundance of trinkets. He frowned at the silliness.
Look at the cake, the dress, the church and on and on he’d heard enough of it from Amelda and her friends
, eversince
Amelda was an unmarried teen. Women planned their ideal weddings
long
before there was a prospective groom
!

Alfonzo turned from the mirror, “Stay for the wedding Tomás
,” he said to the designer
and
then headed for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” His brother asked.

“
Getting some
alone time
.”

“Do not forget your wedding
begins
in
one hour.”

“I know.” Alfonzo answered over his shoulder and opened the door. He heard voices downstairs. They had a full house today with family and friends and he hadn’t enjoyed a quiet moment since their arrival yesterday. Right now he just wanted a quiet place to sit still
and think
.

He jogged down the back staircase leading to the cellar where he’d secreted the large box which arrived months ago. For some inexplicable reason he hadn’t opened it
; he wasn’t sure why but the urge to view its contents surfaced and he was curious
, today of
all days
to open it up
.

The sounds of people faded the moment he entered the cellar and the door automatically
shut
behind him. The shiny glass shelves sparkled as he passed racks and racks of expensive wines and spirits
. He went to the antique chest sitting in a corner near a circular table and chair and bent down.

He
star
ed
at the decorative chest
for a moment; admiring the beautiful carvings. It was hand-crafted, African he surmised and it
screamed antique.

After the craziness with the Russian and Nico
, he sort of focused on other things to avoid unlocking the box to the past. Nico’s words, “Expect your heritage in a box,” had given a clue to its contents. Alfonzo wasn’t ready then to open it. He wasn’t curious enough, however today on the morning of his wedding he wanted to know what lurked in what he considered equivalent to Pandora’s Box.

He took a deep breath, punched in the code and the chest clicked open.

He
stood. Before he went through the items, he decided to fetch an aged bottle of
wine and have a drink. His gut churned, warning him he’d need it and he listened. Thus far, his instincts were often on point.

He chose a Red
Bordeaux;
it had aged long enough, besides it seemed the color of blood was fitting for the occasion. He didn’t go through the swirling glass and sniffing before tasting bullshit. Once he popped the cork
, he sat the wine
on the table to
aerate and took a seat. A hand steady hand re
ached
to the chest and retrieved the
manila
envelope
from atop
the pile of
items which he placed down in front of him as the other hand gripped the bottle and brought it to his lips for a very healthy drink
.

“Ah!”

The bottle clinked on contact with the glass surface and Alfonzo’s mouth descended at the corners as he slid the document from the envelope. In his hand he held a letter from his father and the world stopped…cold.

‘
My son
,

I
appeal
to you
for forgiveness
.
I have given
Nico th
is
letter
for safe-keeping
and
he is instructed
to
present
it
to you in the event those entrusted with your tutelage ha
ve
passed on.

I hope this letter finds you in good health and strong. Seeing you at my bedside made me the happiest man
in the world.
You were right to pray for my soul because I lost it the moment I allowed your mother to leave. I died that day my boy. She took my heart and I
became
lost. When I learned about you, my heart beat again. I had hope. I thought I could keep you safe with Nico watching and protect you from the
distance, but I was wrong. I have been wrong about many things. Yet, I am not wrong about you. You are not me, you are better.

By now you know Alberti is also your Uncle and
were told the entire story about
our family.
Do not bow to anyone, do not feel shame or apologize for the lovers of old who birth sons. We are not bastards or secrets to
be
put aside in shame
. F
eel pride and speak loudly the Giacanti name. Do not relinquish the jewels of Semira. They were presents from the King. Keep safe all of our possessions, for they are your heritage. They are our birthright and let no man take it.

I am proud of you Alfonzo. It was an honor to meet you face to face. Protect what you love to the death
.
One day, I hope you can forgive an arrogant man for his absence when his son needed him most. I am dying, but I go in peace knowing my blood lives on.

–
Your father

Alfonzo
experienced a hard lump in his throat and he reached for the bottle and washed it down with wine. Another lump formed and he drank more
until his
eyes stung
and his heart
-
beat
slowed
. He was a boy again, missing what he never had.
“Damn you papa
, w
hat good is this shit now?”
He shouted and tossed the bottle at the wall. Wine slid down just as Alfonzo’s head fell to his chest and he cried, “
You’re right
I am better than you
because
I will never
desert
my children. They will always know I love them
–always goddammit
!”