Giovanni De Rege

Dante De Rege

Napoli, Italia

Lively chatter flowed in every corner of the De Rege restaurant, the far right corner being the sole exception to this. Over there, the only sounds heard were the brisk steps of the waiters and the occasional bustling coming from the kitchen whenever someone from the staff used the backdoor. Two men were seated at a table in the silent corner; one of them was a young man, and sitting across from him was his father.

Impatience had Silvio drumming his fingers against his knee as he waited for his son to speak up; all the while wondering why Dante had dragged them to their family restaurant in the first place. He dropped his gaze to the, now, winkled tablecloth underneath Dante's elbows. He had lost count of the number of times his son re-adjusted his sitting position.

From his peripheral vision, Silvio caught his other son heading toward the kitchen with a new order on his hands. "Giovanni!" Silvio waved for him to come over. "Get your brother a drink."

Giovanni regarded his brother, never before having seen him this anxious. Perhaps Dante would tell their father he would drop out of college like he had done.

"Anything else?" Giovanni asked his father.

"Sì." Silvio pointed a stern finger at Giovanni's aloof expression and said, "Next time you're waiting tables and ask a customer that question, I want you to do it with a smile."

Giovanni showed his father an exceptionally forced smile. "Is this good enough?"

Silvio shook his head at his son and mumbled to Dante, "I think your brother wants to get fired."

Soft laughter slipped past Dante's lips – glad for the exchange as it helped him ease up.

"You don't have to bring me anything!" Dante said to his brother's retreating figure and got a nod in return, then he lowered his voice, "I want to be sober for this."

"First things first, am I going to hear good or bad news?"

"Good news," he said without a shred of hesitance in his voice. "I would say it's good news. It depends on how you look at it. You might say I'm too young or that I'm not ready or don't know what I'm getting myself into but-"

"But it looks like you've already made your mind up."

Dante raised his azure eyes to meet the ones of his father, a slow smile pulling at his lips. He leaned back, sitting upright, and flattened the tablecloth out with his hands. Taking a deep breath, he asked his father if he remembered Bianca.

"How could I not?"

"I'm going to propose to her. I have zero doubts she's the one. None at all."

Dante stared at his father with the eyes of an eagle. There was the slightest hint of a smile to be seen on Silvio's visage. Would he laugh at him? Waiting for any sign of approval from his father felt like an eternity.

His son had to say no more. It seemed like it was only yesterday when Silvio visited his own father for this exact conversation. Elated, he told him, "I'll always stand behind your decisions, Figlio."

(Son)

When his father stood up with his arms wide open, Dante rose to his full length and hugged him. Receiving a few heavy-handed claps on the back, a wide smile broke out on Dante's face. All of his worries drowned in the sound of Silvio's joyous laughter. It felt good to know that his father approved of his choice.

"What happened?" Giovanni asked as soon as he locked eyes with Dante.

Silvio stepped back and turned his head sideways, facing Giovanni, and said, "Your brother is settling down."