Family Business

Recalling

Claire's pov

Handing me the handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe my eyes, Grandfather nodded, saying, "Mhmmm, you do remind me of your father when he was little." Kissing the top of my head, he hugged me, holding me tightly on his lap. "Tell me what you miss most about your father. I know I can't replace him, Francesca, and I would never try but maybe I can help when you're missing him and feeling alone. Va bene (Ok)?"

Grandfather and I talked about my dad for hours that morning.

"What was Dad like when he was my age?" I laid my head against his shoulder, periodically dabbing my tears.

Grandfather chuckled as he recalled some memorable moments from my father's childhood.

"Your father used to keep his feelings bottled up inside too, until the cork came shooting out as they exploded, overflowing volatilely like a red hot erupting volcano."

I blinked the mist from my eyes as I looked up at my grandfather expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"I remember a time when your father was maybe twelve or thirteen and there was a school dance coming up that he wanted to invite this one particular girl to attend with him as his date. Well, he hemmed and he hawed trying to decide the perfect time, place, and way to ask her and by the time he had it all planned out and finally worked up the nerve to do it, his best friend beat him to the punch. He saw him ask her as he stood in the hall by her locker, just a minute too late."

My grandfather paused, a pained look crossed his face as he reflected on that day.

"What happened next, Grandfather?" I asked, extremely curious as I've never heard any childhood stories about my father.

Snapping out of his self-reflective state, he continued with the story, "Your father was devastated, Nipotina (Granddaughter). He lost his girl and his best friend all in that one moment. He felt betrayed by his amico (friend) and humiliated by the girl he was currently crushing on but he never said a word about it to anyone for three whole weeks. He pretended nothing was wrong, putting on a brave face. He was cocky and defiant, acting out and pushing the boundaries with me, the servants, his teachers, everyone really. Il che gli valse uno schiaffo deciso (Which earned him a good slap). He was miserable but he wouldn't say why. He was too stubborn to admit his feelings, to be vulnerable in front of anyone."

"So how did you find out what was wrong, Grandfather?"

"Well, it was the day before the dance, three weeks after his friend asked his crush to be his date, and on this day, Anthony saw them kissing in the hall right in front of his locker."

I gasped, "Oh my gosh. That's so mean. Why would his friend do that to him?"

"Non lo so, bambina (I don't know, baby girl)."

"What did my dad do, Grandfather?"

"He exploded, Nipotina (Granddaughter). All the feelings he had bottled up inside him since it happened came spewing out violently. He slapped his friend in the face, knocked him to the ground, and just kept hitting him, over and over. He bloodied his nose, blackened his eye, busted open his lip and probably would have done a lot more if a teacher hadn't stopped him and dragged him to the principal's office."

"Was his friend okay, Grandfather? Was Dad okay?"

"Si (Yes), his friend was battered and bruised and your father's knuckles were split open but time heals all wounds, bambina (baby girl)." Grandfather gently stroked my arm in reassurance.

"Did Father get in trouble at school?" I asked, despite knowing he surely must have.

"Si (Yes), he was sent home with a note to give me to sign which explained why he wouldn't be allowed back in school for two days, ma tuo padre essendo il cattivo ragazzo che era (but your father being the naughty boy that he was) didn't give me the note. As soon as he came home and walked through the door, I saw the tears brimming in his eyes and the wet streaks on his cheeks. Anthony, what happened, I asked. Nothing, Father. Just leave me alone, he said, running up to his room."