Mythos
By Shotzette

“Mythos”

By Shotzette

PG

 

This is only a piece of fanfic; move along, nothing to see here.  It was written for grins and giggles and is not meant to infringe upon anyone’s copyrights or intellectual properties.

 

 

 

 

“Forty eight, forty nine, fifty,” Laverne counted out the last of the cash for the register just as the clock on the wall clicked to one am.

 

“Hell of a way to spend a Friday night after working all day,” she grumbled, and then immediately felt guilty.  She’d offered to stay late and take care of the high school basketball’s team’s victory party.  Division champs, they reminded her a hundred times as she feigned interest and refilled pitcher after pitcher of Coyote-Sodies.  Still, burgers and ribs for nearly twenty people counting coaches and girlfriends, gave Cowboy Bill’s a necessary shot in the financial arm.  Between the competition from the two taco stands on the corner and the health food joint on the corner; Cowboy Bill’s wasn’t doing so great.  The way things were going, Laverne couldn’t believe that her father and Edna were fighting over it.

 

She glanced out of the window of the swinging door and was dismayed to see a light still on in her father’s trailer.  Laverne frowned; her father had looked tired and winded earlier that night, which had prompted her to suggest that he go home early.  She’d hoped that he’d be in bed by now.

 

Within ten minutes she was knocking on the door of his trailer.

 

Frank DeFazio opened the door, looking slightly disoriented.  He blinked at her in surprise.  “Muffin, what?”

 

“Your light was on, so I figured you was still up.  Here,” she said as she thrust the remainder of a small rack of ribs wrapped in tin foil into his hands, “I figured you might want to heat these up and have them for lunch tomorrow.”

 

Frank smiled as he took the package from her hands, “Thanks, Muffin.  I don’t know why I can’t re-heat them and sell them to the paying customers tomorrow,” he grumbled.  “It’s a sin to waste food.”

 

“Pop, that guy from the health department was pretty clear on that the last time, remember?”

 

Frank snorted in derision.  “Bum.  I don’t know why he’s picking on me.  I never had to deal with health inspectors like him back in Milwaukee…”

 

“Yeah, but you were a one-man shop back in Milwaukee.  These guys know that if they fine you hear, Cowboy Bill’s inc. will pay.”

 

“If Cowboy Bill doesn’t revoke my franchise license…”

 

“Look, Pop.  I didn’t mean to get you upset.”

 

Frank shook his head.  “You didn’t.  I just couldn’t sleep, so I started going through her things so I could take them to the dumpster,” he said as he contemptuously gestured to the cardboard box on the floor.”

 

“Pop…” Laverne’s voice held a warning tone.  This was not a topic that she wanted to deal with in the wee small hours of the morning.  Again.

 

 

But, Frank was already agitatedly rummaging through the box.  “Here’s her stupid ukulele.  Did I ever tell you how much I hated this thing?”

 

Laverne bit her tongue as memories of her father smiling as Edna sang and played for him in happier days flashed in front of her eyes.  “Maybe you shouldn’t throw her stuff out, Pop.  The way you two are going, the only people who are going to be happy with the terms of your divorce are your lawyers.”

 

Frank appeared to reconsider and carefully placed the ukulele back in the box.  “Maybe.  By the way, I want you to meet my lawyer.  His name is Donnie Fusco; really nice guy, successful, Italian, lives with his mother…”

 

“Yeah, yeah,”  Laverne said quickly in an attempt to ward off the latest, ‘you’re nearly thirty, why are you being so choosy’ lecture.  That’s great, Pop.  Maybe after the divorce is over and the dust settles you, me, and Donnie can all get together and split a can of sardines.”  The sarcastic words were barely out of her mouth before she regretted them.  “I’m sorry, Pop.  I just hate seeing you two act like this.”

 

“She left me!”  The thin trailer walls nearly shook with the volume of his bellow.

 

Laverne put her arms around her father and gave him a quick hug, silently willing him to calm down.  “I know, and I wish she hadn’t, but she did.  You gotta accept that.”

 

“I was a foolish old man for ever marrying her,” Frank muttered.

 

“No, you weren’t.  You just took a chance on love and followed your heart.”  Oddly, Laverne felt her father tense up after hearing her words.

 

“Edna ain’t no Josephine.”  Frank DeFazio stuck his lower lip out, looking nothing more to his daughter like the pouting child who didn’t get a red bicycle on Christmas morning.  Laverne drew in her breath sharply.  She hadn’t heard her father talk about her mother in years, really since he and Edna married.

 

“I said it before, Pop.  Mama was Mama, and Edna is Edna.”

 

“You’re mama never would have left me, dying don’t count.  She knew that marriage was a sacred commitment, no matter what.” 

 

“I know, Pop.”  Eager to change the subject, she asked, “Why don’t you try to get some sleep.  I can carry this stuff,” she said as she gestured to the cardboard box on the floor, “out the to dumpster for you.”

 

Her father favored Laverne with a smile that reminded her of a world-weary Santa Claus before kissing the top of her head and trundling off through the bedroom door of the small trailer.  When Laverne heard the bed springs creak, she sighed sadly and picked up the dilapidated cardboard box.  It was heavier than it looked.  Frowning, Laverne picked through the contents as she glanced around the small living area in hopes of finding another box or bag for a second trip to the dumpster at the far end of the parking lot.  He must have gone through their storage locker, she thought in dismay as she picked through the hodgepodge of items, some Edna’s some of her own belongings from her high school days, and …

 

The leather-bound book caught her attention.  Laverne lifted it out of the box gently, surprised by her own reverence.  The spine was cracked and the scratched leather cover had definitely seen better days.  She gently opened the book, mindful of its fragility and instinctively inhaled its musty antiqued scent.  The elegant penmanship on the foreword page caught her eye, and she gasped aloud.

 

 

 

March 12, 1928

 

To:  Guiseppina Maria Abruzzi

 

Love, Papa

 

 

 

With trembling fingers, Laverne gently turned the ancient page and read the first entry.

 

 

 

Papa gave me this diary today on the day of my twelfth birthday.  He said I should write in it every week, so I will learn to write English as good as I talk it.

 

Mama doesn’t know why Papa thinks it’s so important that I write.  She says all I have to learn is how to cook, clean, mend clothes, volunteer at Church, and marry a nice Italian boy and have babies.

 

I think writing is easier.

 

 

 

Laverne smiled at her mother’s childlike scrawl.  Memories of being held in her mother’s arms, her mother buttoning up her coat, and the smell of oregano, and the taste of almond pizzelle cookies all but overwhelmed her.  Without knowing exactly why, Laverne quietly slipped the diary into her oversized handbag as her adrenaline quelled her fatigue from a few minutes before.  She quickly threw the remainder of the items in the box and lugged the heavy thing to the dumpster in one trip, hernias be damned.

 

A half hour later, Laverne was in her bed, her lower back supported by a scrunched up pillow, and a glass of milk and Pepsi and a box of scooter pies on the nightstand.  For the first time in a year, she was actually glad that Shirley had moved to the Philippines to be with Walter.  As much as she loved her best friend, any one else’s presence would have seemed intrusive.  Taking a fortifying sip of milk and Pepsi and a deep breath, Laverne opened the aged journal and prepared herself to meet the woman that she had never really had the opportunity to know…

 

 

 

 

April 3, 1928

 

 

My teacher liked my essay so much that she read it to everyone in the class!  I was so embarrassed to have everyone looking at me, even the boys.  Everybody was nice, except for Bridget O’Herlihy, that witch!  She had the nerve to say that someone else wrote it for my since everyone knows that Italians can’t read or write, just shoot people.  Miss Higgins hollered at her, then sent her to the principal’s office.  I didn’t see her for the rest of the day.

 

Mikel Kovac talked to me after class and told me to ignore Bridget since she’s Irish, and they don’t know much anyhow.  He was nice, even though he can’t say my name right; he calls me “Josephine”.

 

 

 

May 10, 1928

 

Mama was cross with me today.  I was dumping the soiled papers in the alley behind the butcher shop, and Mikel was there.  We were only talking for a few minutes, when Mama came out and started hollering.  Mikel ran away so fast.

 

I’m not allowed to talk to him anymore.  Mama says I can’t talk with boys who aren’t from nice Italian families ever again.

 

 

 

June 1, 1928

 

Father Di Medici came by the shop today.  Papa donated three carcasses to the poor and butchered them up for free.  Father said that if everyone were as generous as my Papa, that no one would ever be hungry again.  Papa just smiled, and gave the Father a leg of lamb as well.

 

Mama yelled at Papa most of the night for giving away so much.  She said that if he keeps this up, her, Funji, and me will all end up on the streets penniless.  Papa joked and said that nothing would put Funji on the streets—he’d never leave the kitchen long enough.  Mama didn’t think it was funny, and scolded me for laughing.

 

 

 

August 18, 1928

 

We moved!  We left Williamsburg, and just moved into the biggest apartment I’ve ever seen in Flatbush!  It has three bedrooms, and I have my own!  Funji was angry because he thought he should have his own room since he was older, and a boy!  Mama agreed with him, but Papa got very stern.  He said there’s nothing that Funji should do in private that he can’t do on the sofa in the living room.  I’m glad that there’s room for Grandma, and I wouldn’t mind sharing with her, but Papa insisted.

 

 

 

 

November 3, 1928

 

Grandma died last week.  It was awful!  She couldn’t breathe in the middle of the night, so Papa and Funji ran out to look for a doctor.  Mama and I couldn’t do anything to help her.  By the time Funji got back with a doctor who spoke Italian a little, it was too late.  Papa got home later.  I never saw him cry before.

 

 

 

January 28, 1929

 

 

I like my new school.  My studies are harder, but the teachers are nicer.  I got high marks on my grades this term.  Mr. Logan said I got the highest grades out of all the girls in my class.  Papa was so proud of my when I told him.  Mama said that it mattered more that I learn to cook better, and made me do most of the cooking for the St. Vittorio’s dinner.  She said that I didn’t do a good job afterwards.

 

When Papa yelled at her, Mama said that at this rate, I’d be bobbing my hair and doing the Charleston in a speakeasy with Al Capone any day now.

 

What is the Charleston?

 

 

 

March 6, 1929

 

 

A movie house opened on 7th Avenue!  Maggie Ryan and Theresa Camilucci asked me to go with them to see “It!”  If Mama had been in the store, she would have said no, but she was taking the receipts to the bank, so Papa gave me a dime, and told me to have fun.

 

I LOVE Clara Bow!  I want to cut my hair off (Maggie said that she can just tell by looking that I could carry off a bob!), and move to Hollywood!  Funji said that I was too skinny and ugly, Papa laughed, and Mama just cried.

 

 

 

July 18, 1929

 

We have a radio!!!  Papa came home with it last night, and it’s the grandest invention ever made!  We all stayed up until ten listing to the Fleischmann’s Yeast Variety Hour!  Mama didn’t understand how Papa could afford it since it was five dollars.  He explained that all he had to do was sign a piece of paper saying that he would pay the money later.  Mama didn’t understand how that works, and neither do I; but I’m glad we have the radio.  I’ve never seen Mama laugh so hard!

 

 

 

September 4, 1929

 

Theresa and I went to the movie house again.  Clara Bow was in “Wings”, but I did not notice her a bit once I saw Gary Cooper!  He is so handsome!  Both Theresa and me solemnly pledged that we were going to move to Hollywood when we were old enough so we could meet (and marry!) Gary Cooper!!  Funji overhead us and now calls me Mrs. Cooper in front of Mama!  She doesn’t understand it, but Funji threatened to tell her unless I gave him the twenty-five cents that I had saved up for my new shoes.

 

For Funji’s sake, my old shoes better last me a long time!

 

Before the picture started, there was a little drawing of a mouse on the screen.  It wasn’t a drawing of a real mouse, sort of a man-mouse, wearing shorts and driving a steamboat.  I thought it was silly, but it really frightened Theresa.  I hope I never see THAT again at the movie house!

 

 

 

October 30, 1929

 

What an awful day!  No one came into the shop today, no one at all!  Papa said things would get better, that people were in shock.  He said things would be back to normal in a week.  Mama didn’t say anything for once; she just kept sweeping the floors over and over. 

 

 

 

 

November 4, 1929

 

Things aren’t any better.  No one has come into the shop since the Crash.  Funji and Papa threw out a lot of meat today because it had spoiled.  Mama hollered that we should have wrapped it up and brought it home for the family instead.

 

 

 

 

November 6, 1929

 

I saw a man in the alley taking the meat that we threw out two days ago.

 

 

 

December 11, 1929

 

Funji is trying to get a job.  Mama cried because she wanted him to finish his schooling, but Papa said he had to quit.  I feel guilty for going to school, and I know Mama hates me for going when Funji can’t.  Papa said that I need to stay in school for now.

 

 

 

 

January 5, 1929

 

Funji can’t find work, so he’s back to helping Papa in the shop.  A few customers have come back, but they don’t buy much.  Usually, they just check the alley for what we may have thrown out.  Not that we throw anything out any more.  I got real sick from some old sides that Mama tried to cook last week and missed two days of school.

 

 

 

February 2, 1930

 

We lost the store.  Papa couldn’t afford the rent anymore and the landlord took it back.  Mama cried as they locked us out.

 

Funji found work in a warehouse in the meatpacking district.  He’s not a butcher, but they let him herd the cattle in from the wagons for slaughter.  He’s earned fifteen cents so far.  He tried to get them to hire Papa, too.  They said they didn’t need any more butchers, and he was too old to work the wagons.

 

 

March 9, 1930

 

Mama started taking in laundry, and made nearly two dollars before Papa found out and made her stop.  I’ve never seen Papa yell at Mama before—it was awful!  I feel so bad now for wasting money going to the picture shows.

 

 

May 7, 1930

 

We’re moving again, back to Williamsburg.  It’s awful!  We’re going to live in the shabby building two blocks down from where we used to live.  I used to be afraid of walking past that building when I was younger.  Fungi told me that Gypsies and Sicilians lived there and that they were always on the look out to steal children.  He said if I didn’t behave, he’d call the Gypsies on me.

 

 

 

May 10, 1930

 

The building is worse than I remember.  There are drunks all around it when I go to school, and strange women.  Mama yelled at Papa when we moved in and she saw the place.  Later, Fungi pulled me aside and said that I wasn’t allowed to hang around outside, and that he’d walk me to and from school every day.

 

 

 

July 20, 1930

 

Papa still hasn’t found work.  Mama started taking in laundry again, and he didn’t even yell at her.  He just sits in the front room staring off into space.  I wish he’d yell again.

 

 

 

September 18, 1930

 

Papa is sick with a fever.  Fungi was able to find a doctor who spoke Italian this time, but when he found out that we couldn’t pay him, he wouldn’t come.

 

 

 

September, 1930

 

Papa is sicker.  I’ve never seen him look so small.

 

 

 

October 10, 1930

 

Papa died last week.  We went back to St. Antony’s for the funeral.  Father Di Medici isn’t there anymore, and the new priest, Father Rossi, never met Papa.  He said his name wrong twice during the Mass.

 

 

 

November 17, 1930

 

We’re moving again.  Fungi got me and Mama jobs at the packing plant, sweeping up after the butchers.  The new place is smaller, just one bedroom which Mama and I share.  Fungi didn’t gripe about having to sleep in the front room like last time.  I can’t believe that was only two years ago.  Mama looks a lot older.

 

 

 

December 16, 1930

 

Elsie Ryan is going with an usher at the movie house, and he let us in for free today.  It was a Gary Cooper movie, “Only the Brave”.  I didn’t enjoy it.  Hollywood has never seemed so far away before.

 

 

 

February 12, 1931

 

Fungi was beaten at work today.  He was promoted to assistant butcher ahead of two other men.  I heard them hitting him in the alley as they called him awful names.  Three other men, Vincenzo, Angelo, and Franco, broke up the fight.  Then the boss came out and docked them all a days pay for goldbricking.

 

 

 

June 30, 1931

 

Fungi wants me to quit working at the plant.  He says that it’s taking too much of his time looking after me since the other men have started noticing me.  He was very angry.  He says that now that he’s making more money, Mama and I don’t have to work.  I’ve never seen Mama holler at him before.  She said that she’d rather have me working at the plant than going back to school having my head filled with nonsense.

 

 

 

August 3, 1931

 

I overheard Mama talking to old Mrs. Cannelli down the hallway about me.  She said that she wanted to know the name of a good matchmaker.

 

 

 

 

November 15, 1931

 

Mama said that Mrs. Cannelli wants me to meet her neighbor’s nephew.  He is twenty-five and has a lazy eye and works in his father’s grocery store.

 

They are supposed to visit us on Sunday.  I think I’m going to volunteer to help out at Church this week.

 

 

 

January 10, 1932

 

I’ve met him, I’ve met the man I’m going to marry!!!  His name is Paolo Cagliari and he works at the factory!  He’s Fungi’s boss!  I met him Wednesday when I was sweeping up.  He was smoking in the alley and started to talk to me when I was hauling out the trash.  He said that I looked like an Italian Clara Bow!!  He’s handsome, but older.  He’s in his thirties.  Mama and Funji mustn’t know!

 

 

 

February 8, 1932

 

Funji hollered at me today.  He heard gossip at the plant and found out about me and Paolo.  I told Paolo, and he threatened to fire Funji if he made trouble, or told Mama.

 

Funji’s giving me the silent treatment, but I don’t care!

 

I’m going to sneak out tonight and meet Paolo at the movie house.  I know there’s a Gary Cooper movie playing, but I forgot what it’s called. 

 

 

 

February 9, 1932

 

Who needs Gary Cooper?  I don’t even remember what the movie was called; I just looked at Paolo the whole time.  He’s such a wonderful man!  He held my hand all through the movie, and then actually kissed me good night at the stoop.  It was all I ever hoped a kiss would be.

 

I am in love.

 

 

 

February 12 1932

 

Paolo is so wonderful!!!  He brought me a pastry at work from the shop down the street.  He hid it in his handkerchief and slipped it into my hand as I passed him in the hall.  When I smiled at him he looked away.  Later, he told me that he didn’t want everyone at the plant gossiping anymore because he was trying to protect my reputation.  He’s a living saint!!  He also wants to take me out on the town for St. Valentine’s Day because I am his sweetheart, his one true love.  I cannot wait; it will be the most romantic night ever.  I have to wait until Mama and Funji are a sleep, and then sneak out to meet Paolo on the corner.  I am finally going to see a speakeasy!!

 

 

 

February 15, 1932

 

Paolo is a monster!! A horrible, lying monster!  I met him on the corner last night, like I promised.  We walked five blocks in the cold.  I guess he was so warm in his coat, he didn’t notice that I didn’t have one.  The speakeasy was a horrible place!  Paolo knocked four times on the door of the basement of that bar that mama crosses herself when she’d pass it to deliver washings.  An ugly man let us in after Paolo tipped him a dime.  There was a large room, filled with smoke and men cursed as they played cards.  There were six or seven painted ladies that wore dresses without sleeves and had bobbed hair, but they weren’t pretty like the ones in the picture shows.  They smiled at me when we walked in, but I’ve never seen such unfriendly smiles before.  And there was a bar, and a man behind it serving liquor!!  I have never been so frightened in all of my life!

 

I told Paolo that I wanted to go home, and he laughed at me!  He laughed at me and called me a stupid little girl.  When I started to cry, the ugly bartender and the painted ladies started laughing.  Everybody laughed except the young man who was loading the liquor barrels behind the bar.  It was awful!

 

I tried to run out the door and the ugly man grabbed my arm and started to pull me into a back room.  The next thing I knew there was a banging at the door and gunshots were fired.  I screamed and kicked the ugly man in the shin and I ran towards the door—and past the policeman who were running into the speakeasy.  I stopped, but the young man who had been stacking the liquor barrels grabbed my arm and pulled me past the policeman and together we ran down the alley.  Oh diary, the police were raiding the place!  Once I got outside I kept running, even though the police were shouting at me to stop.  I don’t think they were shooting at me, but better I end up dead in an alley than in the police station.  Mama would let me rot there-- I know it!

 

We ran until we couldn’t run any longer, we both fell to our knees on the sidewalk in exhaustion.  I realized then that I had run past our building four blocks ago.  The young man (Fabrizio) walked me back to the building.  At least someone was a gentleman last night!

 

 

 

February 23, 1932

 

Paolo no longer works at the plant.  Funji said that he had been shot and killed during a raid in a speakeasy, and that he was glad that I wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.  I waited for Funji to laugh at me, or to finally tell Mama, but he just hugged me. 

 

I don’t understand men.

 

 

 

April 13, 1932

 

Dear Diary,

 

I nearly died of fright today!!  I was helping Mama carry her washing up Grant Avenue today, when we ran into Fabrizio!!  I was so terrified that Mama would find out I had been out with Paolo and gone to a speakeasy!  Fabrizio pretended that he didn’t know me, and bumped into Mama, causing her to drop her bundles.  As he helped us pick up the laundry, he introduced himself to her and apologized for being clumsy.  He tipped his cap to me and winked when Mama wasn’t looking. 

 

Mama then looked through the laundry to make sure that he didn’t steal anything.  She said that “DeFazio” is a Sicilian name, and you can’t trust those people.  She then scolded me for smiling at him.

 

 

 

June 8, 1932

 

Dear Diary,

 

Fabrizio walked me home from the plant today when my shift ended.  I don’t know how he always knows when I’m leaving, but he’s waiting on the corner more often than not.  I think Funji tells him, since the two of them have become friends.  Fabrizio has started pitching pennies with Funji and his friends on the corner on Saturday nights.  Mama warned Funji that Fabrizio is pocketing the stray pennies and that he needs to make sure that he counts his money before he comes home. 

 

Mama worries too much.

 

 

 

August 30, 1932

 

Dear Diary,

 

Mama is furious!  She saw me talking to Fabrizio on the street last night, and saw him buy an ice for me!  She hollered at me for being outside with a man without a proper chaperone and said that I was on the way to ruin!! 

 

If she only knew…

 

Fabrizio is kind to me, but he’s no Gary Cooper!  He’s Funji’s friend, for heaven’s sake and I told Mama that he was just being kind—being another brother.  Mama just got angrier and yelled that I was a stupid girl who would be easy prey for a crafty Sicilian. She said she was going to put a stop to my misbehavior right away.

 

 

 

October 2, 1932

 

Dear Diary,

 

The worst has happened!  Mama spoke to Old Missus Scarpelli, the butcher’s mother, and said that I needed to get married to a nice Italian boy immediately.  This week we have had two prospective suitors come by the apartment to meet me!  The first was a square-headed, hairy thumbed troll without a neck, whose father works in a cheese factory.  The second was old—he had to be thirty at least—with a lazy eye!  It was horrible.  The third prospective suitor didn’t even have the courage to show up in person!  He sent his Mama who looked me up and down and announced for all to hear that she didn’t think I looked strong enough to have enough grandchildren!!   If they would inherit her bad teeth, I would not want to have them!

 

 

 

November 15, 1932

 

Dear Diary,

 

Funji told Fabrizio about Mama’s plans to marry me off, and Fabrizio was furious!  I have never seen him angry before, and it was a truly frightening sight.  Fabrizio told me that he was in love with me, and how he wanted to marry me.  Before I could say anything, he kissed me.  I should have slapped his face, but I didn’t.  He’s a good man, and I wish that his kiss had moved me like Paolo’s did, but it didn’t.

 

But, Paolo’s not here and I need a husband.

 

 

 

December 1, 1932

 

I lied to Mama and told her that I was going to stay after church and help Father Marshiarelli with the orphan’s breakfast.  Instead, I went with Fabrizio to his mother’s apartment.  Oh diary, every bad thing that Mama has ever said about Sicilians is true if it’s about Fabrizio’s mother.  What a horrible witch!  She didn’t say that I wasn’t strong enough to bear enough grandchildren, which would have been a kindness.  She told Fabrizio that I wasn’t good enough for him and that I would only break his heart!  I ran out off the apartment crying, and Fabrizio followed me.  He told me that he loved me and that nothing that anyone—even his mother—could say would change that.  He is so brave and strong!

 

 

 

December 25, 1932

 

It doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore without Papa.  I miss him so much!  I feel, in my heart, that if he were still with us, everything would be all right.  Our lives would be good again, Mama would quit worrying about my future, and I could go back to school.

 

Mama spent part of her laundry money buying me a blanket so that I could start a hope chest.  Mama and I are hoping for two different things.

 

 

 

January 12, 1933

 

Mama told me that the hairy thumbed troll wishes to marry me, and that the wedding is in two weeks.  She’s already spoken to Father Marschiarelli and he said that he could marry us in the Church alcove so that Mama wouldn’t have to pay anything and she could save her money for my dowry.

 

Dowry?  His father has a good job, and they live in a nice apartment back in Flatbush, or so they say.  Why do they insist on a dowry?  Mama says that a dowry is tradition; it will prove that we are from a good family.  I thought meeting us would prove that.   Funji said that he doesn’t think that their family is as good as the matchmaker claims and Mama hollered at him.

 

I do not wish to marry Vito, but I cannot disobey Mama.  I will tell Fabrizio tonight and break his poor heart.

 

 

 

January 13, 1933

 

I have never seen anyone as hurt or as angry as Fabrizio was last night.  He said that he loves me, and that it would be a tragedy for me to marry another, especially a hairy thumbed troll.

 

Fabrizio said that he has a plan.

 

 

 

February 2, 1933

 

I cannot marry Vito in the Church tomorrow because I married Fabrizio yesterday at City Hall.    We lied and told the clerk that I was twenty-one, not that I think he would have noticed.  We said our vows without a mass or a blessing, so it didn’t even feel real to me, even after signing the marriage certificate.

 

Nothing seemed real until later that night, when Fabrizio

 

What have I done?

 

 

 

February 4, 1933

 

Mama has disowned me.  She said that I let a dirty Sicilian ruin me and that in the eyes of the Church, I am a whore.  She says that the piece of paper from City Hall means nothing, and that I was seduced by a crafty Sicilian.

 

Funji is angry that Mama is upset, but I think he’s happy that I didn’t marry Vito.  He and Fabrizio went outside to “talk”, but I heard shouting and angry words.  Funji later pulled me aside and said if Fabrizio was ever cruel to me, that I should come home right away, no matter what Mama says.

 

Home?  I won’t be living at home anymore…

 

 

Laverne blinked in surprise.  City Hall?  Her parent’s weren’t married in the Church?  She set the diary down and vaguely tried to remember any photos she may have seen at her grandmother’s home in Brooklyn of her parents as a young couple.  Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to remember any of them in wedding clothes, standing in front of the Church.  There were dozens of photos of herself, and Anthony, and the rest of her cousins dressed for first communions and weddings in front of St. Angelio’s

 

She shook her head.  What did it matter?  It sure wasn’t a big deal to most these days, including herself, she was forced to admit as she guiltily remembered nearly eloping to Vegas twice; once with Sal and once with Derek DeWoods from that rock band that she used to adore.  She smiled as she flirted with the idea of letter her so very Catholic father know that she had this little nugget of information before returning her attention to the diary.

 

 

 

March 15, 1933

 

I have made a terrible mistake.  Living with Fabrizio and his mother is horrible.  I can avoid Fabrizio desires by using my womanly excuse; at least I can most of the time.

 

His mother is worse; she doesn’t holler like Mama does, she just sits silently all day glaring at me.  Fabrizio won’t let me go back to work at the factory, so I am stuck with the old hag all day except for when I deliver the clean washing that she takes in.

 

I dare not cry in front of her, she would use my tears against me.

 

 

 

April 27th 1933

 

Fabrizio brought Funji to the house to cheer me up.  I never thought I would miss my brother but I do.  I held onto him and wept tears of joy for the longest time while Fabrizio’s mother glared at me.

 

Funji says Mama still doesn’t talk about me and threw my belongings on the ash heap.  Funji was able to bring some clothes to me, which was a relief since all Fabrizio’s mother has done was complain that I showed up on her doorstep like a shoe-less Gypsy peddler.

 

She was as kind as could be to Funji, though.  She said what a handsome, and strong young man he was.  When Fabrizio left the room she added that Funji was a good Catholic boy who would never bring shame on his family by not marrying inside the church.

 

I hope Funji comes back soon to visit me. 

 

 

 

April 30, 1933

 

I cannot even find joy in this, the holiest of all Sundays.  Fabrizio knows something is wrong, and he’s trying to make me happy.  He brings pastries home from work because he knows I like sweets.  His mother said he was foolish to indulge me and that I am rightfully miserable for all the pain I have caused others. 

 

I wish he hadn’t brought home the pastries; not only has he given his mother another thing to hate me for, but the smell sickens me.  I haven’t felt well in the last few weeks.

 

 

 

May 28, 1933

 

I now know why I am sick; I am with child.  I told Fabrizio last night, and he wasn’t angry like I thought he would be.  He works very hard at both jobs to keep food on the table for us.  His mother will never let me forget that.  But he was happy that I am expecting.  He’s already pronouncing that Fabrizio Junior will be the first Italian-American President.  I don’t mind if we call the baby Fabrizio, even though I want to name him Salvatore after Papa—I just don’t want anyone to call the baby “Frank” the way Fabrizio’s American boss calls him.  I hate that name!

 

 

 

June 3, 1933

 

Fungi brought Mama to the house today to see me.  I hoped she had forgiven me, but she has not.  She never once looked at me, except for my belly, which grows larger every day.    Fungi said that she hadn’t believed him when he told her I was expecting.  Like me, he thought she wanted to welcome me back to the family.  Mrs. DeFazio even tried to be kind to her; I never realized she was capable of it!  Mama just said that I had disgraced the Abruzzi name even more by bearing a Sicilian bastard.

 

I cried all night while Fabrizio was at work, and Mrs. DeFazio stroked my hair.  She asked me to call her Mama Sofia.

 

 

 

August 12, 1933

 

God is punishing me for being such a wicked girl.  I started having pains yesterday, and I knew it was too early to have the baby.  Mama Sofia stayed with me while Fabrizio ran out for the midwife, but it was too late.  Our son, Fabrizio Antonio DeFazio Junior is dead.  Mrs. Silvestri said that he was too young to be born.  She then said it was my fault since that black cat crossed my path when I went to the grocer’s with Mama Sofia; that’s why expectant mothers shouldn’t leave the house.

 

Mama Sofia later told me that Mrs. Silvestri was full of nonsense.  She said that she used to help midwives in the Old Country and none of them ever said anything about avoiding cats.

 

I know why my son died; Fabrizio and I sinned by not marrying in the Church.  Mama was right.

 

 

The diary fell from Laverne’s numb fingers onto the bed sheets.  A brother; she’d had a big brother, just like she’d always wanted.  She felt her eyes sting with tears as she tried to visualize what he would have looked like as a boy and as a man had he lived.  Her brother, Fabrizio Jr.; the son that her father had always wanted…

 

 

November 14, 1933

 

Funji came to see me today, but I wouldn’t leave the bedroom.  I didn’t want to see him—I don’t want to see anyone.  If I saw him, he would see my shame, and I cannot even bear to look at myself in the mirror, much less reflection of my brother’s eyes.

 

Diary, I never new that such misery was possible.  Mama Sofia does all the cooking now, as well as delivering her washing.  Fabrizio works double shifts at the plant.  At first, he just took the extra work to pay for our baby’s tombstone, but now…  I think he just wants to be away from me.  He sleeps on a blanket on the fire escape now, leaving me the bed to myself.  Not that I have ever truly wanted him there anyhow.

 

Still, the fact that he cannot even bring himself to look at me cuts like a knife.

 

Mama Sofia had angry words with him the other night, low toned because she must have thought I was asleep.  She told Fabrizio that he is wrong to not be my husband now; that even though the Church didn’t bless our marriage, he still owes me his love.

 

I find that I care less about his debt with each passing day.

 

 

 

December 25, 1933

 

Mama Sofia begged me to go to Church with her, and I couldn’t say no.  It’s strange being outside after so many long months in the apartment.  It was so cold, with the icy wind blowing through my coat that I just realized that I don’t remember it being hot this summer, though I know that it must have been.

 

Some people whispered and nudged one another when we entered St. Angelio’s but Mama Sofia glared them into silence.   The Mass was all but a blur to me, but I felt a strange sense of piece that I haven’t known since losing my baby.  Mama Sofia and I walked to the cemetery after the Mass, and I realized for the very first time that I never had been to my baby’s gravesite—Oh, what a horrible mother I would have been.  I had no more tears to shed as we stood there in the snow staring at the tiny white stone, but I know that my heart will never heal from this wound.

 

Fabrizio stayed home.

 

 

 

February 8, 1934

 

Mama Sofia invited Funji and Mama for supper this Sunday.  Funji came alone; I was not surprised.  I think Mama Sofia thought that seeing Funji would cheer Frank up, but it didn’t.  Frank barely said more than two words to Funji, at his supper quickly, and then left for another extra shift at the plant.  Mama Sofia was furious that he worked on a Sunday, but I was glad to see him go.

 

Funji is keeping company with a girl that works at the bakery on 115th Street, Elsie Reiss.  A German girl; I can’t imagine that Mama is pleased over that!  Funji asked if I would meet with Elsie and I surprised myself by saying yes.

 

 

 

March 30, 1934

 

Mama Sofia is ill today.  I don’t think that it is serious—nothing like what happened to poor Papa—but I didn’t realize until today how much of the chores she had taken upon herself.  Enough is enough!  I am young, healthy, and strong, and I should be taking care of her, not the other way around.  From now on, I will do the cooking, the cleaning, and the shopping while she rests.  She’s mothered me more this last horrible year than I could have imagined, and now it’s my turn to help her.

 

 

 

June 2, 1934

 

Elsie and I went to the fish market together today.  She wanted to cook for Funji and wanted me to help her select clams.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nothing at the wharfs would be fresh this time of the week.  Then again, she could serve my brother sawdust and nails and he would happily ask for a second bowl.  I wish I knew what it was to be in love like that.  I am so happy for Funji when I see them together, but it also reminds me how little Fabrizio and I have.

 

Forgive me, Diary, but I envy them.

 

 

 

August 1, 1934

 

Fabrizio has joined the Army, and Mama Sofia is furious.  Fabrizio says that he can earn more money in the Army than he can at the plant, and since he won’t be living with us, he can send more money home.  At least this is what I overheard from the bedroom; he told his mother, not me.

 

Mama Sofia is convinced that the Army will send him to Italy where there is so much danger these days.  I am so glad that she cannot read English so that the headlines on the newsstands cannot frighten her further.  Fabrizio told her that America isn’t involved with all of the nonsense going on in Italy.  He doesn’t think he’ll go any further away than New Jersey.

 

Part of me does not care if he ever comes back.

 

 

 

October 3, 1934

 

I met Elsie at the docks yet again.  She is convinced that I am her good luck charm when it comes to buying fish!  I didn’t realize until recently that she had never spent every Sunday cooking fish—the girl is a Lutheran!  As much as I adore Elsie, I cannot believe that Mama has not put a stop to this romance.

 

While we were on the docks, the fishmonger’s helper, Robert, gave me an extra cut of haddock for free.  I tried to give it back, but he said that since I kept bringing Elsie back, I was good for his business!  Robert is so funny!  He’s a Scotsman, and it took me the longest time to understand his strange way of speaking, but now that I do, he keeps me in stitches every time Elsie and I see him.

 

Oh dear!  I hope that he realizes that Elsie is all but spoken for!

 

 

 

November 28, 1934

 

Funji came by last night, and he had been drinking.   He sat in Mama Sofia’s front room and bawled his eyes out.  Mama did it; she finally convinced him to break things off with Elsie.  Funji said that Mama has been ill lately, and he couldn’t bear the thought of his romance with Elsie making her worse—especially since she had been sick on and off after I married Fabrizio.

 

I am so disappointed in Funji.

 

 

 

December 12, 1934

 

Robert gave me some extra cod at the wharf this morning.  He said that in his city back in Scotland, it was a tradition to give friends salmon for Christmas, but since he was in Brooklyn, cod was the best that he could do.  Robert is such a dear man!  He’s no Gary Cooper, with his bucked teeth, but when he tells a funny story, his green eyes just dance with laughter.  The silly faces that he makes never fail to make me laugh!  I don’t think that I have ever laughed as much with anyone as I have with Robert.

 

He didn’t ask about Elsie when I was there today.  I think that the next time I see him I will let him know that Elsie is no longer spoken for.  As much as I love my brother, I think he was foolish to quit seeing Elsie.  If she can find happiness with another man, I think that she should.

 

 

 

May 17, 1935

 

I couldn’t sleep last night.  I lay awake tossing and turning as I thought about my life.  Am I married?  I do not feel like it; especially now since Fabrizio has left.  Funji has come by three nights this week and he still pines for Elsie.

 

I do not think that I am pining for Fabrizio, but part of me wishes that I was—that I cared enough.

 

What sort of a woman am I?

 

 

June 9, 1935

 

Fabrizio has not written me one letter since he’s been away, but he’s apparently been writing his mother once a week.  I was cleaning the floor in Mama Sofia’s room, and I saw a small box under her bed.  Heaven forgive me, but I opened it.  I wish that I hadn’t.

 

Fabrizio says the Army is much harder than he thought it would be; he’s actually down south, North Carolina, instead of only being in New Jersey.  He’s the only Italian in his company and they all think he’s involved with La Cosa Nostra.  How foolish!  If he was involved, he’d be back here in Brooklyn and we’d have a much nicer apartment!

 

The worst part was that in one of the letters, Fabrizio said that he’d been “tempted” by one of the girls who lived near the base—and was apparently well known around the base.  He said he didn’t do anything wrong because he still considered himself to be a good husband.  Hah!

 

 

August 31, 1935

 

 

I saw Elsie on Warwick Avenue buying cloth for a dress.  I was so happy to see her, I couldn’t wait to tell her how much Funji still loves her; how much he misses her.  Before I could tell her anything however, an older, burly man came up to us.  Elsie then introduced me to her husband, Erik.

 

I wished them the best before I walked away.  I did not mention Funji.

 

I guess that I am not the only one who can stop loving.

 

 

 

October 3, 1935

 

I saw Robert at the docks today.  Mr. Washburn, the fishmonger, is letting Robert buy part of his stand—he will actually own part of a business!  Robert was so excited when he told me that I could barely understand him!  He laughed and said that I should be his translator for all of his Italian customers; which made us both laugh all the harder.  Robert then said that owning a business is why he came to America in the first place, and that he wanted to be a respected businessman before finding a wife.

 

My heart nearly broke as I thought of Elsie, and I couldn’t let him keep going on; so I told him that she had married another man.  Robert looked at me for a long moment and then said, “Oh, was that your plump friend who didn’t know a gill from a fin?”

 

I then burst out laughing out of relief—Robert doesn’t love Elsie and his heart isn’t broken.  When I laughed, Robert clasped my hand in his and joined in.

 

My hand is still tingling…

 

 

 

November 18, 1935

 

Mama Sofia got a letter from Fabrizio today and she was so happy.  They made Fabrizio peel potatoes as a punishment for something and the mess chief took a liking to him.  From now on, he will work in the mess tents instead of being a post sentry.  Mama Sofia thinks that this will keep him out of harm’s way.  I smiled when she told me about it, but I am worried that Fabrizio sent home less of his pay this time.  I’ve heard rumors around our apartment building that the landlord may raise the rent.

 

 

 

January 3, 1936

 

Our rent was raised ten dollars a month, but Fabrizio’s pay was not.  He was able to come home on leave for Christmas and he told us since his new job in the mess tent isn’t considered dangerous, he’s being paid less.  I want to be angry with him, but he looked happy for the first time in so long, that I couldn’t be stern with him.  Cooking seems to agree with him—he has put on some weight! 

 

Mama Sofia was very angry with him.  Somehow, she had it in her head that he would be coming home for good.  When she found out that he would only be here for four days, she stayed in her bedroom most of the time.

 

It was odd with Fabrizio back.  We shared a bed, but nothing has changed between us.  I think that he was disappointed, but it’s hard to say.  He went back to the Army in North Carolina anyways, so nothing has really changed.  Except, of course, I need to find a way to make more money.  Mama Sofia is taking in laundry, but I know that there is something better for me out there.

 

 

 

February 27, 1936

 

I work on the docks with Robert now, scraping the scales and cleaning the fish.  Also, Robert wasn’t teasing me when he said that he would need a translator; now that Lent approaches, he will have so many Italian customers that he won’t know what to do! 

 

Robert is a Protestant, but I he is a very kind man, nevertheless.    He was surprised to find out that I have a husband, and that he’s gone most of the time.  He asked me once how I stand the loneliness.  I never thought about it until he asked me, Diary, but he’s right.  I am very lonely.

 

Mama Sofia is wonderful, but she is Fabrizio’s mother.  I cannot share what I feel with her, it would be too cruel.  Funji has moved to a rooming house in Queens, so I rarely get to see him anymore.

 

The only times that I do not feel lonely is when I am working with Robert.

 

 

 

July 30, 1936

 

Fabrizio is so angry with me!  He is home on leave and is furious that I am working.  He hollered at me that it was his job to take care of his mother and me and demanded that I never go back to the docks.  I screamed back that if he could support us, I would not need to work and his mother would not need to take in laundry.  Fabrizio then threw a saucer at me; I swear, Diary, had his mother not jumped in front of him, I truly think he would have hit me.  I have never seen him so angry; I hated to make Papa angry as a child but Papa’s anger is nothing compared to Fabrizio’s rage.  Mama Sofia then yelled at him for breaking her saucer, and Fabrizio stormed out of the door.  After he left, Mama Sofia yelled at me for making him angry and disobeying him.

 

Fabrizio only has four days of leave, but I have not seen him in two.  I was foolish to think that he would ever be a good husband.  Mama was right; I was a foolish little girl.

 

 

 

September 4, 1936

 

Funji has met another girl!  Her name is Gertrude Schoener, and she is Jewish!  I was shocked when he told me, but I held my tongue.  I will not poison his love with Gertrude the way Mama ruined his romance with Elsie.  Funji is a good man, and he deserves to be happy.  I am trying to be happy for him, but I’m so sad.  Gertrude’s uncle owns a butcher shop in Milwaukee, and he wants Funji to come work with him.  Funji and Gertrude will leave next Friday after they marry in City Hall.

 

Where is Milwaukee?

 

 

 

November 2, 1936

 

I have not heard anything from Fabrizio since he left this summer.  I know that he still writes letters to his Mama, because she is still receiving money.   I see her sneak his letters in from the mailbox and then lock herself in her bedroom to read them.

 

I no longer care enough to sneak into her room and read his letters.

 

 

 

January 12, 1937

 

Robert told me that he loves me today.  I do not know what to do, Diary.  I am a married woman, aren’t I? 

 

The Church doesn’t seem to think so.  I found out a few weeks ago that part of the reason that Fabrizio had to work so hard wasn’t to pay for the tombstone—it was to give to the Church so that we could bury our son on hallowed ground.  Because we were married at City Hall, he was considered a bastard.  Why do I care what anyone thinks anymore? 

 

I think that I love Robert too.

 

 

 

February 16, 1937

 

Robert wants me to leave Fabrizio and be with him.  He said that since I wasn’t married in my Church, that even I do not believe that I am married.  I wish that I could say that Robert is wrong, but I cannot.  Maybe I am unhappy because God disapproves of Fabrizio and I loving in sin?  Maybe that is why I am being punished?

 

But, wouldn’t divorcing Fabrizio be more of a sin?

 

I am so confused, Diary, even more so when Robert kisses me.

 

 

 

March 30, 1937

 

Mama Sofia knows.  I came home late last night.  I lied and told her that I had to help Robert clean out the stand; that some fish had gone bad and we had to scrub everything with bleach, but I could not look her in the eye.  She looked at me like she was seeing a stranger, and then turned and went to bed.

 

I wouldn’t have felt more shame if Fabrizio had found out.

 

 

 

April 24, 1937

 

Robert and I quarreled today.  He wants me to leave Fabrizio, and he doesn’t know why I don’t.  I foolishly told him that Fabrizio is coming home next month on leave and Robert is beside himself with jealousy and worry.  He knows that Fabrizio and I did not part on good terms the last time that I saw him, and he is worried for me.

 

I know the truth now, Diary.  I am in love with Robert.  I wish it was not true, but it is.  I only want to be with him, and the thought of having Fabrizio touch me makes me ill.

 

I cannot leave Mama Sofia, though.  There is no one to take care of her while Fabrizio is away, and I cannot abandon her.  She has been kinder to me than my own mother ever ways, even though I have lost her respect.  I do not know what to do.

 

 

 

May 2, 1937

 

I told Robert that I would not be coming back to the docks this afternoon, or ever seeing him again today.  He looked as if he would cry at first, but then became angry. 

 

I did not tell him that I am still in love with him, because that would hurt him further.  I wish that I had been stronger last night when he kissed me, but I was not.  When I awoke with him this morning, I realized that as much as I love Robert, I could never divorce my husband to be with him. 

 

It is better that he thinks of me as a whore; perhaps he will forget me faster.

 

Fabrizio comes home next week,

 

 

 

May 3, 1937

 

I snuck into Mama Sofia’s room and read Fabrizio’s most recent letters while she was gossiping in the yard with Mrs. Colletti.

 

I am not the only one who has betrayed our marriage, Diary.  The girl’s name is LaVerne Bonner, and she works in the payroll office on the army base.  Fabrizio confessed to his mother that he is in love, FOR THE FIRST TIME!  Why was I so foolish to believe that he wasn’t out with a different tramp each night?  Part of me wishes that Fabrizio would abandon me, go off and be with her so that I could run to Robert and beg his forgiveness.  Why do I even care what Fabrizio does?

 

 

 

May 10, 1937

 

Fabrizio came home.  I had been to the market that morning, and when I got home, he was there, waiting for me, Mama Sofia nowhere in sight.

 

He’d lost some weight, but he looked older to me.  There was also sadness to him, and when I saw that, I knew he was home to stay; that he had chosen our marriage over HER.  We made awkward small talk for nearly a half an hour; it touched me that he was as uncomfortable as I was.  I told him that I had quit my job, and he actually smiled and hugged me.  He then started to cry as he apologized about throwing the saucer at me; he at that moment swore to me, on his Mama’s Bible, that he would never, ever raise his hand to me again.  Part of me also wanted to ask him to swear that he was done with his little chippie, but I didn’t.  Fabrizio said that he wants to work hard to be a good husband to me.  If he can make that promise, I can promise to try to be a better wife.  I haven’t seen Fabrizio smile that happily in years.  I want to see him smile more.

 

 

 

June 13, 1937

 

Fabrizio has found work as a dishwasher in a restaurant in Manhattan!  Fabrizio served with the sous chef’s brother in the Army, and the sous chef promised him that he would give him a chance to work as a an apprentice in a month.  I have never seen Fabrizio so happy!  I wish that he was earning more money; now that I am no longer working at the docks, money is tighter than ever.  I will not complain, however; I am just glad to see everyone smiling for a change!

 

I wish that I could smile too, but I haven’t been feeling to well the last few mornings.

 

 

 

July 2, 1937

 

I am with child.  I haven’t told Fabrizio yet, but I think that Mama Sofia knows.  For once, I am now glad that Fabrizio and I share a bedroom.

 

 

 

September 30,

 

I am so large, that I cannot leave the house!  Mama Sofia must know; she has made a few remarks on how much bigger I am than I was last time.  Fabrizio shushed her and told her not to tease me about being fat.

 

Mama Sofia told me that she would no longer tease me, but she said that she would knit faster since it looks like my baby will be so big that it may come out early.

 

 

 

December 24, 1937

 

Fabrizio and Mama Sofia are at Midnight Mass.  Mama Sofia told me that she would have father Dante come by and give me the sacraments since I cannot leave the house.  I have the feeling Father Dante’s penance will be much easier than anything that Mama Sofia would dish out!

 

 

 

January 3, 1938

 

I am a mother!  Our little baby girl was born right after New Years two days ago.  Fabrizio adores her; I didn’t know that he was capable of so much love.  We are going to try to get through the snow tomorrow to get her to the Church for her baptism.  Thank heaven’s that both Mama Sofia and Mrs. Colletti had helped midwives in the past!

 

Fabrizio stayed in the room with me the entire time, holding my hand and wiping the sweat from my brow.  The ladies tried to make him leave but he actually shouted at his Mama that he would not abandon me again.

 

I have never been more grateful to him!  Especially now…

 

Her eyes are a beautiful shade of green-- just like Robert’s.  Fabrizio noticed her eyes and asked me, with a catch in his voice, if other members of my family had green eyes since Mama, Funji, and I all had brown eyes.

 

I didn’t lie to him; or cower from him.  Those days are over for us.  I looked straight into his eyes and told him that no one in my family had ever had green eyes.  I then asked if we could name her Laverne.

 

 

 

 

Laverne blinked her eyes as she watched the sun climb from the east, battling the southern California smog and the darkness.  The cold light made her flinch nevertheless, her retinas ragged from tears and sleeplessness. 

 

The stench from the dumpster barely registered on her as she flung open the rusted metal lid loudly and hurled her mother’s diary into the rancid jumble of torn trash bags, half-empty beer cans, and stained Styrofoam containers.  What I shoulda done last night; what Pop probably wanted to do…

 

Pop?  Could she even call him that anymore?  Who was he now; Frank?  Mr. DeFazio?  Who the hell was she anymore?

 

As if on cue, the door of the double wide trailer at the other end of Cowboy Bill’s parking  lot opened. 

 

“Laverne!” Frank DeFazio barked.  “Why are you here so early?”

 

“I…”

 

Before she could say more, she was swept up in a rib crushing bear hug.  “I’m glad you came by last night, Muffin,” he whispered in her ear.  “You’re a good daughter, not wantin’ your old man to be alone in his misery.”

 

Tears welled up in her eyes at his words.  “I just didn’t want you to be alone.  You’ve been through too much.  Way too much,” she said, her voice thick and ragged from emotion.

 

He held her at arms length and looked at her more closely.  Ahh,” he sneered dismissively, his usual machismo reasserting itself.  “An old workhorse like myself don’t stay down for too long.  You know that, don’t you?”  The dark eyes that had seen through her since childhood now peered at her intently.

 

Unable to speak, she merely nodded. 

 

He then brushed the tear from her cheek with his thumb as his smile softened.  “Don’t cry, everything’s gonna be okay.”  Frank DeFazio shook his head resignedly.  “You’re just like your Mama, you know that?  Under all the mouth and fire, you’re just a big old softy.”

 

His words cut her to the quick.  “Am I really like Mama?”  She held her breath as she watched his reaction closely.

 

Frank’s smile dropped a half notch and his eyes seemed to look very far away for a split second.  “Yeah.  In a lotta ways, yes,” he replied, breaking her heart.

 

 

 

Fin