Page 13 of Angel's Whisper

And then her thoughts shifted. Celestina's constitution shifted as well. She started to think more recently. The distance that grew between them was hard to bear. The formality of their lives because of the arrangements that were made was often difficult to tolerate. The arrangements and then the separation because of failure to honor the arrangements brought tears to Celestina's eyes.

Valentina.

Celestina's heart still ached for her oldest daughter. There were moments when Celestina felt like they may have responded too harshly, meaning her mother-in-law and husband. Celestina missed Valentina. There were times when she wanted to reach out to her daughter just to make sure Valentina was okay. She wanted to check in to see if Valentina needed anything. Celestina wanted to hug her daughter and apologize.

“Well, we're having a leisurely morning, aren't we,” Constanza commented as she strolled into the kitchen. Costanza didn't stop to make tea. Instead, she made her way to the table and took a seat next to Celestina, satisfied that the waitstaff would bring her beverage. When Celestina only offered a polite smile, Costanza was intrigued. She waited until her tea came, and the wait staff exited.

“So, what has your focus this morning?”

Celestina didn't answer immediately but then said, “Just thinking about things, my girls.”

“That's understandable. You are their mother, but they are adults now.”

“That doesn't mean I can't miss them, Valentina,” Celestina uttered.

“What about her?” Costanza asked rather nonchalantly.

“What do you mean what about her?” Celestina asked, turning to Costanza with a furrowed brow.

“What about her?” Costanza repeated.

“Costanza, how can you say that? My daughter has been ostracized from the only place, the only family she's ever known. And for what? Some oath, some agreement for the sake of the bottom line?”

Costanza set her teacup down and politely dabbed the corners of her mouth with the napkin that was in her lap.

“Yes,” she said flatly, “for the good of the family.”

“The good of the family,” Celestina repeated. “The good of the family?”

There was so much Celestina wanted to say, so much she wanted to unburden, and for a moment, Celestina considered saying everything she wanted, everything she needed to say. But something held her back.

Francesco entered the kitchen just as his wife stormed out. He paused, seeing how upset she was, and thought about going after her, but he had much more important matters to attend to. Francesco looked concerned when he sat down at the table with his mother.

“We've got a situation.”

Francesco didn't wait for his mother to ask. “I got a call from the supervisor about shipping. There's a problem with the Baltics. Our ship has been denied entry.”

“Where are the ships now?” Costanza asked.

“Sitting. They are sitting in the middle of the goddamn ocean at a stalemate.”

“So, what are you going to do about it, son? You're in charge.”

Francesco looked dumbfounded. He hadn't even thought about a solution. The furthest he thought was to tell his mother and have her tell him what to do. Costanza didn't, though, not immediately. But she let Francesco stew for a moment longer, and then she stood up, lifted her frame from the chair, and then, looking down at her son, she said the following.

“You do understand that I will not always be here. I will not always be here to save your simple ass. Francesco, you need to step up. I have confidence in the structure of the organization. It could basically run itself. But in those moments where critical decisions need to be made, you must be equipped to make those decisions and be confident in the decisions you make even if you're not.”

“Get that supervisor on the line. I'll meet you in the dining room.”

Francesco watched his mother walk out of the kitchen. He was confused by what his mother said to him. When was he supposed to develop all these leadership skills? When was he supposed to have the opportunity to make all these decisions? When Francesco’s father was alive, he was the undisputed leader of the family business. Eduardo Conti built the business, expanded on what his parents started, breaking into international arenas, and expanded their territory. Francesco was brought into the family business, but Eduardo didn't get the opportunity to really back him or show Francesco the ropes before he fell ill and ultimately passed away. And then his mother stepped in, guiding and maintaining. Maybe she felt like she had to prove herself because she was a woman operating in a male-run industry, or maybe she enjoyed the power.

Whatever it was, Costanza positioned her son as a figurehead CEO, all the while doing the actual work in the not-so-distant background. He was a figurehead and had been since his father's untimely demise. Even at his mother's age, she was still unrelenting, still moving and shaking the trees in the background.

Now, she dropped more than a hint that he needed to get up to speed and start making decisions or at least verbalizing them.

Francesco grunted as he lifted himself from the chair and made his way into the dining room, waiting for his mother's arrival. Always waiting, he thought and shook his head. Maybe it was time to step up to the plate and step into the role he'd been faking for years. Just then, Costanza entered the room.

“Do you have the supervisor on the line?” She asked as she waited for the butler to pull her chair back. When he did, she took her seat.

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