Page 131 of La Dolce Vita

“I’m sorry Bella,” he managed to say.

"I've blamed myself for my grandpa’s death for years. It’s been hard to let go of the guilt."

"Guilt for our fathers. At times we are more alike than different, Bella."

She kissed his chest. "Yes, you are my destiny. Always and forever."

***

The phone rang. Mirabella glanced over to the side of the bed her husband usually occupied. He was gone. She checked her watch and found it was just after nine in the morning. She was surprised no one answered the phone downstairs. She picked it up.

"Hello?"

"SignoraMirabella please?" The person asked.

"This is she," she said.

"Ciao, this is Sera... ah, Dr. Marchetti. I wanted to let you know that I accept your offer to work with your family."

Mirabella sat up. "Really?"

"Yes, when do you think you will be returning from this trip to America?”

"I'm not sure. We will leave in a day or so, probably stay no longer than a week," Mirabella said.

"Okay. I guess we will speak when you return. I have an office in Napoli. I think it might be best for the upcoming months to work there. So we can start meeting."

"Yes. And thank you, Doctor."

"See you soon."

PARTTWO

The Afterlife

ChapterTwenty-One

The Family Travels

Firenze, Italy

The line was long. And with three cranky kids, she felt unprepared. Giovanni pushed Gino in the stroller. Gianni refused to sit in it. What would he do on the plane? It had been years since she’d flown internationally. She was beginning to worry that maybe the ten-hour flight was a bad idea.

"Mama?Mangia! Mangia!" Gianni said and patted her breasts telling her he was hungry. He was dressed like Gino in blue overalls and a plaid short sleeve shirt. She had smoothed his curly hair back into an afro puff. The only difference between the twins was Gianni’s hair grew faster and thicker. Her poor son couldn't see under his cloud of hair when it was picked or combed out. And he was so adorable when it was smoothed back.

"Mangia,"he said with a sad pout.

"Soon, baby. Mama promises.”

Mirabella heaved Gianni up on her arm. She glanced over to her husband. It was rare she convinced him to dress so casually when out in public. But they were traveling. His dark suits would draw unneeded attention to him, perpetuate a stereotype about him and his lifestyle that she refused to acknowledge. Giovanni wore a short-sleeved black shirt and dark blue jeans. He had a large leather duffle strapped across him as their carry on. Dark sunglasses shielded his eyes. She turned her head and looked behind her and saw Marietta chatting up Eve, who wore a blue jean skirt and yellow shirt to match the yellow bow in her hair. Her daughter's blue eyes were stretched wide as she pointed and asked questions about everything. The customs agent signaled for Giovanni to step forward. He removed his duffle and tossed it on top of the table, and took her baby bag carry-on as well. Mirabella glanced over to theCarabinieri. Her husband didn't seem fazed by the tense, piercing, and hateful glares they gave him. She was. In fact, there were moreCarabinierigathered in their customs line than the other four. They seemed to wait for the Battaglias to come forward. They looked like military men in blue uniforms and Kalashnikov assault rifles.

The customs officer snatched the duffle bag and unzipped it. He tossed the clothes out without care and glanced up at Giovanni for a reaction. Her husband showed none.

"Mama! Eat! Eat!" Gianni began to whine again.

"Shh, baby, soon. I promise."

She couldn't hear what the customs agent asked Giovanni, but she heard her husband answer with one single word: No. He ignored the contempt from the officer and casually reached down to pass a hand toy that fell to Gino. The agent slid the bag over and then went after the diaper bag next. Another officer checked the duffle bag after the first to ensure the integrity of the search. It was overkill. Tourists and travelers stopped in their lines to gawk at all of the Italian military presence. The customs agent dumped what was left in the bag out on the table, and a few items dropped to the floor. The search was personal. A challenge to Giovanni and Lorenzo both. And Giovanni seemed to expect the insult. He stepped forward and allowed a patdown. Lorenzo came from behind Marietta and gave over his carryon bag to allow his pat down. The entire ordeal took over thirty minutes.

---