Whispers in New York - Book Two

~Chapter 1~

The smells of sweet champagne and freshly baked Italian pastries were still in the air. That smell of warm freshly baked sheep ricotta combined with freshly grated orange zest straight from the fruit gardens, it was the smell of celebration in the Abandonato New Jersey estate.
There was no greater celebration in the family home quite like the day of a baptism. The baptism of two month old Lucia Bonfiglio. The beautiful daughter of Matteo and the only Abandonato daughter, Angela.

The champagne and wine began to flow from midday through to the early hours of the morning. There was no shortage of food either, as various types of pastas with a range of different sauces filled the tables. Homemade pizza from the outdoor wood fire oven which the men happily took over, after all, playing with fire was no job for a woman.
Then of course, the traditional Italian pastries. No party was complete without the addition of pastries.

They celebrated the baptism of little Lucia into the late hours of the night. The bouncing baby girl officially able to set out on a new life with forgiveness for her sins in the eyes of God. A very monumental moment for all those in the family.

Salvatore stared at his sister across the garden. She was sitting at a now messy table stained with alcohol and food. Evidence of a great family celebration. He noticed her intertwined hands with her husband Matteo as she held sleeping Lucia to her chest. Her husband kissing the top of his wife's head, looking down on his precious baby girl.

He could tell they were blissfully happy, the happiest they had looked in a long time.
His beloved sister endured an awful lead up to and throughout her pregnancy. Tension was high in the Bonfiglio household, his sister would never admit it but Salvatore could tell. She was desperate to carry her husband's child, the pressure she had put on herself was tremendous.

When she finally did fall pregnant he knew it was a great load off her shoulders, she seemed more relaxed for a while. Until complications began to arise, his sister was a mess. Constantly in tears and bedridden for most of her final months. He knew she felt pathetic, she had confined in him one day while Matteo was sent away to take care of some business. She told him she felt inadequate and a failure as a woman.

Now here they all were, sitting at a table with their little miracle in arms. Determined to protect and love her forever.
Something he at times feared would never happen in his life.

"Salvo," his mother caught his attention, ripping his gaze from the happy family. "Where is Luca tonight?"

"Couldn't make it." His response was cold with no interest towards the conversation whatsoever.

His mother handed him a glass of champagne with a smile. "Dai bevi, it's a celebration!" (Come on drink)

"This champagne tastes too sweet. Bring me a scotch instead." He placed the crystal glass on his table top surprised to feel his mother smacking the back of his head. "Christ!" She smacked him again.

"Pick up that glass and drink it now, its bad luck for Lucia if you don't!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he retaliated knowing very well his mother took Italian superstitions way too seriously. Especially when it came to birthdays. She would insist everyone had to eat at least a fork full of cake, if not it was bad luck on the person having the birthday. It didn't matter if you were lactose in tolerate, allergic to nus, gluten free, she didn't care nor did she believe in allergies.

Angela received the worst of it during her pregnancy, he witnessed his mother practically shove cold meats, soft cheeses and nuts down her throat claiming that not a day went by during her pregnancies in her day where she evicted food from her diet. Especially not cold meats.
"Mamma!" Angela would protest while he sat casually drinking his espresso. "The Doctor said I can't eat that!"