September of '97: An Italian Affair

By Rei Anna Marie

For the first time in her life, entrepreneur, Sandria Lewis finally has some semblance of control of her life. With less than one month before her wedding to her love, Dimitri Domenichino, trouble sets up camp and decides to overrun her happiness. As problems come in rapid succession, Sandria is resolute as her faith is tested.

In the midst of the conundrum, her best friend Ni Nagasaki stands by her side. Ni tries to help her navigate her way through all the mishaps, blunders and explosive predicaments before there is irreparable damage.

Entangled in Sandrias web is a former lover, a remorseless mother, and narcissistic father and a host of unsettling events that seem like they will never cease.

Will Sandria continue to ignore her past and pretend that nothing has ever happened? Would Sandria be better off if she just walked away?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532041181

Rei Anna Marie

Rei Anna Marie is a freelance writer and a poet. She earned her A.S. in Criminal Justice, graduated Magna Cum Laude. She will receive her B.A. in Law and Justice Studies with a minor in Psychology. Rei is currently working on her next romantic thriller.

Book preview

SEPTEMBER

OF ‘97

50324.png

An Italian Affair

REI ANNA MARIE

50312.png

SEPTEMBER OF ‘97

AN ITALIAN AFFAIR

Copyright © 2018 Rei Anna Marie.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4117-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4118-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018900311

iUniverse rev. date: 03/21/2018

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1 La Macchina (The Car)

Chapter 2 L’Orologio (The Clock)

Chapter 3 L’Aeroporto (The Airport)

Chapter 4 Il Cameriere (The Waiter)

Chapter 5 La Casa di Famiglia (Family House)

Chapter 6 La Coda di Cavallo (The Ponytail)

Chapter 7 Il Ristorante (The Restaurant)

Chapter 8 La Promessa (The Promise)

Chapter 9 Las Cartas (The Papers)

Chapter 10 La Piscina (The Swimming Pool)

Chapter 11 Il Ginocchio (The Knee)

Chapter 12 La Corsa a Ostacoli (The Hurdles)

Chapter 13 Il Tappeto (The Rug)

Chapter 14 L’ Ufficio (The Office)

Chapter 15 La Tavola da Esaminare (The Examining Table)

Chapter 16 Il Gioco (The Game)

Chapter 17 Il’ Drago (The Dragon)

Chapter 18 Il Prezzo (The Price)

Chapter 19 Il Regalo (The Gift)

Chapter 20 Il Nonno (Grandfather)

Chapter 21 La Notte (The Night)

Chapter 22 Il Giornale (The Newspaper)

Chapter 23 Il Fascio di Luce (The Spotlight)

Chapter 24 Gelosia (Jealousy)

Chapter 25 Trentuno (Thirty-One)

Chapter 26 Formicolio (Pins and Needles)

Chapter 27 Sermoni e Demoni (Sermons and Demons)

Chapter 28 Le Richieste e Richiede (Demands and Requests)

Chapter 29 Il Segreto di Pavarotti e la Liberazione (Pavarotti’s Secret and Deliverance)

Chapter 30 Costrizioni (Constraints)

Chapter 31 Ripensamenti (Second Thoughts)

Chapter 32 Domande Ipotetiche (Hypothetical Questions)

Chapter 33 Patologie Psicotogiche (Psychological Pathologies)

Chapter 34 Lo Stalker e Gli Angeli del Cielo (The Stalker and Angels from Heaven)

Chapter 35 Per Migliore o Per Peggiore (For Better or For Worse)

Chapter 36 Sorprese (Surprises)

Chapter 37 Le Cravatte Tagliente Quel Legame (Cutting Ties That Bind)

Chapter 38 Nel Buio (In The Dark)

Chapter 39 Introduzionie e Congedi (Introductions and Dismissals)

Chapter 40 Ringraziare Dio Per L’Eddie (Thank God for Eddie)

Concluding Remarks Arrivederci (’Till we meet again)

Dedication

In memory of my grandfather, for telling me that if I waited to have enough time and money to do anything, it would never get done.

To my grandparents Deacon and Deaconess for their unconditional love; I am a humane person for it.

In memory of my father who I once told he was too mean to die; he laughed and said we’d live forever. I guess there’s no tricking God!

And to my daughter, the possibilities in life are endless but remember desire is wont of application!

Chapter 1

La Macchina (The Car)

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing, Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland," says the Lord.

Isaiah 43:18-19

04 September 1997

Driving behind the wheel of my much loved ’97 metallic purple Volkswagen Passat, I’m in transit on Route 42 to meet my family at the PHL: Philadelphia International Airport. My pager is going off but I’m not looking at, it’s no one but my fiancé Dimitri probably wanting to know where I am right now. If I hear early is on time, on time is late and late will never do one more time I think I will go postal. After all, he got that saying from me. Jeez, and I thought I was type A personality. So to distract my thoughts I channel surf and then finally make a decision to listen to Wham who is singing Careless Whispers on a random radio station I stop on and I begin to sing along: wrong words and all; oblivious to the passers-by who are undoubtedly witnessing my poor performance.

All the while, there is something nagging at me. In the back of my mind, I am secretly praying that nothing goes wrong to jeopardize my relationship with neither Ni: she’s my best friend nor Dimitri. No, especially not Mitri: the pest on my pager. I have no one left but God and them. Ni Nagasaki is my life raft and a champion friend in all aspects of the word and I will see to it that I never forget it. How can I with all that she has done for me? Especially standing by my side in all my wrong. Dimitri Domenichino is the very air that I breathe. What can I say? I love him so much and will do absolutely anything for him. I want to love and protect him like I love and protect our children. My God sent me a good man! He’s a very good man to me and my daughter and his son. I cannot imagine him doing any harm against me or our family. This, I guess, is why I am tormented by the fact that I am keeping a horrible secret from him. I want to enlighten him about my dark past but I am not sure how to approach it and I’m not sure if he’ll be all right with it. What a quandary. What shall I do?

Should I tell him the whole sordid truth or should I just let it go? I think out loud. If I tell him…what will he think? What if he leaves me? I groan as the thoughts bombard my mind and all of a sudden my thoughts become personal. If I don’t some asshole will and will take creative liberties in telling my story. You best believe there will be a high probability whoever it is will tilt the tale against me. I resume singing the song as if I never interrupted myself with thought. Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend, to the heart and mind ignorance is kind, there’s no comfort in the truth, pain is the whole you’ll find… should’ve known better than to trust a friend…Ok! Ok! I stammer as if answering someone else. God didn’t give me a spirit of fear, I’ll tell him. He must be told. But when? Better yet how? Damn! I suck my teeth in resentment of the past and think how unjust all of it is because it wasn’t even my fault. At least not all of it. Right? Mitri is a lawyer and has a reputation to protect; I will shield him from the crap even if it’s mine.

Ever since that dreadful day my life got on a spiraling, slippery, slope to hell and didn’t stop until I got there. Worse yet I was hand delivered in a basket by the people I loved the most. It has been more than a challenge for me but we came up: me and my baby Asiah. Finally, we have arrived and I believe with all my heart we are where we should be now and I am not going to let anyone knock us back down! No not a soul! Not ever! Regardless of who it is. The truth of all truths that I learned in this life altering lesson: never give your heart to anyone without having marionette strings to maneuver. Even if it’s your mother: that Bitch. Wow, let me calm myself, the closer the wedding the more crazy I get. Wow this is outlandish, just this morning I was on cloud nine.

Chapter 2

L’Orologio (The Clock)

Everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope.

Romans 15:4

Earlier, 04 September 1997

Sandria Rose Lewis: that would be me, am sitting nervously at one of my office windows with a grand smile. Here I am listening to my Bose, I can’t decide whether I want old school rock on ninety-four WYSP or old school R & B on WDAS one o five point three so I keep channel surfing while I aimlessly stare out the window.

I’m amazed at how I arrived at this apex of my life after all that has taken place. I’ve had quite a few people ask me how did I overcome my defeating odds as a black female entrepreneur and there were some that even told me that since I can’t beat my competition that I should try to work for them? Clearly I beat the odds and them, yes that is what I did.

How? I had perseverance and faith in God and that is what kept me together and it is certainly what keeps me together today! I learned how to fight the right way and now I have a force that cannot be reckoned with; it’s God. Yeah, I’m fierce when I have to be and I refuse to be weak anymore. Besides, that’s how a soldier is supposed to be. I make sure I have on the whole armor of God every day, which means I read scripture and pray often. I’m not perfect but I am working on me and I do whatever it is I have to do but that is not the way it has always been; I was the complete opposite until two people in particular snapped me out of it. Thank the Lord for the divine intervention!

Honestly, I wish it never happened at all most times but I am glad all of it occurred because I am so much better for it now. I know I sound a trifle superior as I say this but this is the first time I finally feel satisfied with my surroundings, the people in my circle, my career, myself, and as a whole my life intricately. There is no going backwards. I’ll see to that.

I think: Ms. Lewis you are a thirty-four year-old picture of beauty. I stand elegantly at five feet ten inches and am one hundred and forty-five pounds lean; leaner than I’ve ever been. My complexion is a luscious caramel and I have perfectly brushed eyebrows with a natural arch that tops my rich dark gray eyes, honey brown when I wear contacts. My nose is somewhere in between European and Asian and positioned neatly in the middle and my lips, that… well let’s just say that most cosmetic recipients would die for them. Underlining and defining my beautiful face is a soft subtle chin that is barely noticeable. Unfortunately, it’s an attribute from my father that I wish he would have kept to himself; only because I know later on it will make way for that Lewis double chin? Conceited or narcissistic? No. No I’m just confident! Just loving me after being belittled for so long. I finally said, enough, with being vilified by my family.

Often times I wonder why God has given me a sneaky underhanded blood sucking mother and judgmental family. My understanding is that He paired them up with me so I could learn valuable life lessons. I now know why I was the one on the hot seat but it is all irrelevant now because I’m off and I vow never to let myself get thrown back on again. Family judged me wrong in their assessment. There is no convincing them otherwise, Lorraine was pretty clever presenting circumstantial evidence. One thing that I will never understand is even when they: the family found out the truth how they still continue to hate me so much? They made mistakes too and I never judged them. Fuck them! I don’t need them anymore anyway so it’s all good and I pray to God we never cross paths ever again, especially that Bitch. Do I wish things could have been different?

Of course but that is the funny thing about life: we open the door, sometimes the flood gates, to our own detriment and we do not even realize it. Yeah, in our righteousness or wrongness God gives us what we need for His moment. If we are honest with ourselves we will discover that we in fact do get what we want but we just do not get it when or how we want it. I know, I know we can debate that forever and a day. I know personally that often times we’re resistant to the things that happen because it’s not how we envisioned. Yeah, to put it plainly sometimes the shit just doesn’t feel good but when it’s all said and done: it is what’s best for us. We learn and move on like we’re supposed to. So my era of self and foisted hurt ends and happiness has been ingeniously ushered in. I do not know when it arrived but self-worth, self-esteem, self-respect, and most importantly self-love is here! It all stays!

The corners of my mouth turn down: from the old wounds resurrecting, tear up my eyes, and flare out my nose a bit. Nausea, something new, invites itself and partners with me and the disgust looms over my glowing face as a result from going down memory lane. Whoa! Wait, didn’t I say it all stays? Giving a deep sigh I literally shake it off as to not disturb my equanimity and divert my attention back to the wedding invitation on my desk and reread it for the thousandth time. Yeah, I’m exaggerating but I have read it so much that I can recite it frontward, backward, sideways, upside down, and without even looking at it.

If a man vow a vow unto the Lord,

or swear on an oath to bind his soul with a bond;

he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that

proceedeth out of his mouth

Num 30:2.

Mr. & Mrs. Giovanni Lorenz Domenichino

Request you to come and witness a declaration of Devotion as

Ms. Sandria Rose Lewis

and

Mr. Dimitri Lorenzo Domenichino

Exchange their vows on

Tuesday, September 30th, 1997

at Two o’clock in the afternoon

held at St. Mary’s Immaculate Catholic Church

Reception to follow immediately

At

Whitaker’s Banquet Hall

Just as I finish reading the invite a knock on the door penetrates my thoughts and I hide it under a file like it’s a secret or something. Staging myself, I adjust my three carat cushion cut diamond ring on my finger. I meander a moment in daydream. Considering I’m not really into flashy jewelry, I adore the white gold twist band with its surrounding sapphire cluster baguettes! Mitri really outdid himself; he has exquisite taste!

Come in, I answer energetically as I sweep my deep black waves from my face.

Hey Miss Lewis, I was just checking to see if you needed to give any last minute instructions before you left? says my Japanese assistant by way of Brooklyn, New York.

No, Nagasaki, I do believe at this moment we have everything all wrapped up, at least for now, I chuckle. So this way you and the rest of the employees can enjoy your extended weekend.

In real life who says extended weekend Dria?

I do if it’s more than Saturday and Sunday.

Okay.

Okay. Anyway as I was saying get rested up, you’ll have a busy week without me. However, if you need me you have all my numbers, a pager and cellular to reach me. You do have your gadgets don’t you? playfully I ask.

Of course I do Miss Lewis, says Nagasaki sounding a bit high strung. Ooh you know I forgot them only once; I won’t let you down.

After squinting at the east wall where the oval three foot, glass, platinum bordered clock hung meticulously in the center; Nagasaki reports the hour of the faceless time keeper.

Hey it’s two thirty.

Why do you squint at the clock as big as it is?

Because it doesn’t have stupid numbers and don’t you think you ought to get to the airport before you miss your flight? She announces with one hand on her hip.

No. I think I have plenty of time before it’s time to board but I better get a move on things because I did promise the children I would get there somewhat early so we could sort of hang out and not rush.

The kids? What about him? Now both of her hips are hosting her hands.

What about him? I roll my eyes in my head.

Aren’t you worried that women will be circling him like vultures?

Vultures?! I say as I snicker.

Um humph, I said it, vultures! Especially if they think he’s alone and needs a mommy for those poor babies. She is waving her manicured finger at me.

Nagasaki, you are all kinds of crazy my friend.

No you are the one who is crazy. Still sitting there while women are gawking at your man and making plans.

Don’t worry, I am not crazy. Besides, Dimitri knows the true value of our relationship. I trust him, us.

Dria, Nagasaki shortens my name as she says it’s easier plus it makes me sound like a celebrity.

Yes Nagasaki?

I hope you trust me like you do Dimitri but you know on forever friend level and know that I will always have your best interest at heart, Ni says suddenly sounding timid as her sentence trails off in uncertainty.

Sighing deeply I respond, Nagasaki for the second time in my short lived years, I can truly say that I know you’re a spectacular friend, my only female friend. I guess it is true that when you make use of your good sense you can tell an honest person when you meet them.

Most people would call that good sense a sixth sense or a woman’s intuition.

Why? Do you have concerns about our friendship?

Not really. I just want you to be aware that you know you can trust me with everything and I will not let anyone set up anymore traps for you. That’s all.

Believe me I’m good. We’re good. Now go so I can finish up my work and get out of here on time and you go do what you do.

Ok captain, have fun and sex if you can make it happen, she says as she reaches over to embrace me, and don’t forget my presents and postcards and whatnot. Ni says easing the glass doors closed and disappearing down the hall.

Dria? chuckling to myself.

I never let anyone shorten my name except my fiancé, who has called me Dria since our first introduction and Ni, who says she has earned the privilege after sticking by my side through my ordeal and calling me Miss Lewis all day at work. She has! These two are my family. My only family, including my daughter and Mitri’s son. I love them with all my heart and soul but in the far recesses of my mind I feel the need to keep an eye on them too; at least that is what fear dictates.

Let me pump my brakes again, God did not give me a spirit of fear. I know that I can count on them for anything. Yeah, I know I sound mixed up but if you went through what I did you would be little off kilter too. Wait, my phone is ringing. Jeez, I completely forgot that I have a conference call. This is going to throw my timing off considerably but I must to do what I have to do.

So much for finishing the reports and rescheduling so I can be early, which of course is on time to my fiancé. So I guess with this new development I’ll just make it, which will mean to Mitri that I’m late which undesirably seems to be the new normal for me as of late. No pun intended. Oh crap!

Chapter 3

L’Aeroporto (The Airport)

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for man, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

Colossians 3:23-24

Meanwhile at the airport I am sure that Mitri has already arrived; early as normal, to check the bags and give himself a lot of time since he has to walk alongside four little legs. I can visualize Mr. Punctual keeping a diligent watch of the time as he has hopes that I would come early or at least in enough time to hang out with them and board without rushing. He is calling me now but I am concentrating on the traffic I’m trapped in and do not want to take my eyes off the road for anything. These crazy ass drivers on the New Jersey side of the Schuylkill will try to drive right over top of you if they could. Now imagine them on the PA side. They see you trying to get over and it seems that their cars accelerate so not to let you in; that’s why when he calls again I do not pick up. He is highly agitated now calling me a third time: I’m crossing the Walt Whitman Bridge; not picking up.

Anyway, I think Mitri is more excited about the trip than all of us put together but no one would ever know because his emotions are unreadable. Always the reserved type and his temperament, endorses it. His musing of his hair is the only way I know something is going on and come to think of it, for the past month, that is all he seems to do. Humph, time to play eye spy to figure out what’s going on with my slick Philly guy.

In and out of the court room he is that very stubborn man that knows he’s the crème de la crème. His best friend, Niccollì said there was no way I could get him to change or move but Dimitri does whatever I ask of him and I got him out of his man cave apartment in Philadelphia. So now he and his son are living with me and my daughter. Our lives together feels like we’re in a living dream. In spite of all the warnings from Nagasaki about his domineering spirit; Mitri is my pillar and the icing on my cake not to mention gorgeous.

Full name: Dimitri Lorenzo Domenichino. Height: towering in at six feet nine inches. Has, now, a halo of silk black medium length hair that curls on the end and a chiseled face that is too perfect for words which announces him to the world; I’ve arrived. Oh his dark brown eyes they give the impression of being black: they penetrate right through me and seem to steal every thought I’ve ever possessed. His nose on the other hand is not his biggest asset, at least not to me because it is long and somewhat slender and looks as if it belongs to someone of a Greek descent. But no matter how out of the ordinary my fiancés individual feature is; it is beautiful combined with the rest. Most appealing on the face of my man of Italian heritage are his full sensuous soft lips that he uses as a weapon on me whenever he wants me to comply with his wishes. Yet, having a very handsome face is not this man’s drawing power, oh no, it’s the whole package. He is a big man from top to bottom and everything is in proportion; even his size fifteen feet. If you do not believe in superstitions, you wouldn’t know what I mean.

Most formidably, Dimitri Lorenzo Domenichino is a man of his word and a man of action; he doesn’t work by his eight by ten glossy. Incredibly and to the dismay of other women he belongs to me: Sandria, with his heart, mind, body, and soul. I know within my very being that he will do anything to make me happy and keep me safe, even if I drive him crazy sometimes.

Speaking of crazy I’ve approached the PHL. The scheduled time for departure is seven fifteen p.m. and no delays are expected for American Airlines. I arrive with not too much time before the flight and thank the stars that I had packed the night before and let Mitri take my bags. After parking and checking in I run to terminal C and I’m happy, that for some reason or another, there aren’t too many flyers this Thursday evening. Now all I have to do is to get to my family; with any luck they are looking for me.

I’m excited to see: Asiah latched to her favorite doll: Molly from the Big Comfy Couch that she always drags along the floor and Dontae with Thomas the Tank in one pocket and Mr. Conductor in the other. The three of them are sitting there but not as I imagined; the children’s heads are hanging down and their feet are swinging out to the sides and back and forth in a rhythmic motion. Truly they are disappointed and it is smeared on their faces. As for Mitri he has that unreadable look and he gets up to greet me and I don’t know what to expect to come out of his mouth.

Glad you could make it before departure.

I got swamped at the office at the last minute and had to reschedule some meetings and shift some deadlines, I say trying to catch my breath.

Didn’t your assistant remind you of your flight? I’m sure she did.

Yeah it was like two thirty but like I said I got a conference call and it was a wrap after that. I am telling the truth as always.

You know the kids wanted you to come early and hang out. They thought you might miss the flight. You know how easily they get excited.

I told you… he cut me off.

They may be young but they want to know that they are more important than the office.

They are but the time really just got away from me. I swear.

Well if you were focused on us the time wouldn’t have gotten away. You would have damned the work, assigned it to your assistant and came to us.

Well here it is. Us; He’s trying to put it all on the children but he’s the one who is pissy about my not being here early. Yeah, Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collect. Dimitri you do the same thing and I never say a word because I understand.

Don’t defend I hate that. Besides when I make a commitment to us I keep it and I don’t let work come between, capisce?

No capisce. We’ll talk about it later because the children are waiting and we are not going to do this now and not here. As I approach the children they are waving at me with fervor and all their disappointment is wiped away with a group hug and kisses.

Mommy, exclaimed Asiah and Dontae in unison you made it!

Yes mommy finally made it and you know why?

Little Dontae is shaking his head side to side and Asiah exclaims, Why?

Because, I wouldn’t miss a vacation with my babies for anything in the world.

Well how come did you take so long we thought that you didn’t want to come with us? A high spirited four year-old Asiah interrogates me representing her brother and herself.

Why; not how come. Dimitri interjects off to the side.

Listen to you. Why would you think something like that? We ignore his comment. You are starting to sound more and more like your father.

Well? He interjects again.

You stop that…please? I cut him a hard look.

Okay I am really - really sorry that I didn’t get here sooner but I am here now and I’ll make it up to the both of you. Pinky promise okay. I reassure mother to daughter.

Dontae is satisfied with what he hears and jumps up to hug me again as if he hasn’t seen me in days, in support of my response. He is the peace keeper and does all that he can to preserve it at the tender age of three. I think that is why I love him so because he reminds me so much of how I used to be when I was his age. His internal thought probably was something like Mommy is here and it’s okay now; I know him as if he’s my flesh and blood. Asiah fires at Dontae as if she is reading his mind and blasts him.

That’s what she wants so she doesn’t have to feel bad about being late. She’s mean and all she cares about is her stupid ol’ company!

So the verbal tennis match begins; Dad and I listen intently to their grievances. We try to allow them freedom of expression in spite of what people may think; after all they are people too. I know their arguing is all my fault and I truly cannot justify being late; not really. I had all the time in the world.

Nut uh is all that little Dontae can sputter and Asiah turns her attention to me.

We waited and waited for you, she is glaring at me, and Dad even called you on the phone in your car and that pager thing and you didn’t even answer.

At that moment I looked up into Dimitri eyes of I told you so and I couldn’t say a word. I know what he is thinking and he is right. He turned his head to let me know that I was on my own. In the best apologetic tone I forced out, I’m sorry. Just, I’m sorry, when all other intelligent adult communication cannot be conjured up.

Asiah, Mommy said she was sorry, Dontae pleads, she didn’t do it on purpose.

I’m not so sure about that, Dimitri mumbled only audible to me.

How do you know that? a flustered Asiah Marie spouts.

Enough of this, referees Dad in Italian, it is over now.

Yes Dad has had enough and we know it by the tone of his voice and silence falls quickly among the two in the airport. A rush of gratitude implodes within me that their little interrogation is over but simultaneously diminishes as he tells the little duo.

Sedersi and don’t move because I have to speak to Mommy for a minute.

Ooh Mommy’s gonna get it, they giggle as they sit mannerly on the seats and immediately forget about their little spat.

Here comes the lecture to Sandria, I tense up as Dimitri puts his hand on the small of my back to direct me a few feet away from the children; far enough so they can’t hear and close enough to keep an eye on them. I wince with anticipated pain, not from his touch because he is always gentle, but from the words I know I’m about to hear, again!

Oh no, now is not the time for this. Please God. Even though Mitri is respectful and a compassionate man he has a mouth like a sailor and I don’t want people all up in my business. My Mitri is not an abusive man, physically or verbally, but sometimes he can cut me with words and I don’t even realize it until he walks away. His jaws are tight which probably means that his teeth are even tighter. He’s pissed. Through clenched teeth he fumes in a baritone voice.

Come on Dria why in the hell are you really late? I called you three times: tre: twice on the car phone and once on the pager. What? He runs his fingers through his hair. Sandria are you having an affair?

Hell no Mitri! I answer right away. How could you say something like that?

Because, lately you’ve been doing some real fucked up shit. You seem to be shifting your priorities…we’re always on the back burner for work. You seem so preoccupied.

That’s not fair, I have not! I immediately interject but he continues, And you break your word to il ragazzi and then say oops I’m sorry

I didn’t say oops, mumbling with my head down.

I’m sorry is not going to fucking cut it. Capisce, Sandria?! There was silence for a bit and then he says it again, Capisce?"

Sì, sì. Capisce. I understand I’m still emotionally spent from work.

What gives? What about your fucking assistant?

What do you mean? I jump to defend my good friend.

Why don’t you let her do more? After all that is what she is there for, right?

Like a little child I turn my right foot on its outer side and begin to play with my fingers, Yes I guess so.

Dria I am tired of making excuses for you to those children, his tone softening, I know it’s your company but that is what you have people for. The kids need you, Christ, I need you.

He gathers my hands and kisses them.

Dria, you’ve been pushing too damn long and too damn hard at the company. I know that it’s yours but that’s why people have fucking assistants and god damned management teams. Train somebody so that you don’t have to bear the load, your family needs you more than the company. You have to make a choice. Of course, it’s your decision.

The tail end of his statement raises my eyebrows even though I know that he is trying to force his hand.

Hold it, in my harshest whisper, are you giving me an ultimatum?

Since when do you ever have a problem knowing exactly what I think? I don’t mince words.

This is not fair Dimitri, you know how hard I work to get that company where it is and you want me to just hand it over to someone else? I search his brow for some type of compassion but it is absent. With a pretentious laugh, he throws his head back and runs his hand through his hair and finishes what he has to say.

What part of the word training don’t you understand? I didn’t say give it up. Shit let Nagasaki be acting CEO, CFO, COO, manager or something. Hell she’s your best friend, she’ll be perfect. That’ll free up your time for us.

Mitri… he didn’t allow me to finish. I guess this is something he’s been wanting to say for a while and now he is finally getting it off his chest. His voice is soothing now and I think he does his best to comfort me.

I can provide for you-you know. I can support us, very well. I am not a parasite. You don’t need to work. You must understand that I’m not trying to take from you-only to enhance you.

He seems to be exhausted and it’s all my fault.

Let it go Dria, just a little bit. Trust in me - please. I won’t disappoint you.

It is time to board and Mitri turns on his heal to collect his kids; leaving me to absorb all he said. It hurts. Each word stings every nerve and it is all judicious. It hurts so much and yet it is all true. Joining them in line I caress the children’s faces and peck Mitri on the lips.

Truce we’ll talk later. Let’s say in Atlantic City?

I said Atlantic City because that will buy me some time to get my crap together. I take the hands of my children’s hands to enter the gate. Walking behind us, I can feel him smiling, he knows he won this battle and I know it is going to be a hellofva lot of fun making up for his public display. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose for the make-up sex.

The captain gives his rehearsed address to welcome the passengers and hopes we will enjoy our flight. The children are very wound up as usual: Asiah is holding an intense conversation with Molly and Dontae is riding Thomas along his leg and up and down the seat. Going to another state is no big deal to them they are just happy we are all together. They ask a million questions about the beach they are going to. Did it change? How many people are going to be there? Do they have rides? A boardwalk? Do they have the same food? Where are they going to stay? And will they see Nonno and Nonna Domenichino? Not a single question could be answered because each answer was interrupted with another question. Even though this is not their