Northern Moonlight (15 page)

“It generally is.  I hope this is OK as a hostess gift.” Sabrina held up a potted fern that she had purchased that afternoon for his aunt Helena.

“That was very thoughtful of you, Sabrina.  Not necessary, though.”

“Of course it’s necessary!  I’m meeting your relatives and visiting their home for the first time.” 

Gio did not reply, but thought how he also hoped this would be the last time.  He did not want to poison his relationship with Sabrina by the oppressive presence of his uncle and aunt.  He had already decided that they would stay a maximum of two hours.

The May evening was balmy as Gio and Sabrina walked hand in hand to his truck.  Once inside, he showed her his present to his uncle with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t think I’m cheap, Sabrina.  But I had this bottle of whiskey lying around.  A buddy of mine at the firehouse gave it to me a few years ago for Christmas.  Since I don’t drink whiskey, I thought I would pass it off to Stefano as a birthday gift.  He’ll probably drain the bottle on the spot.”

Sabrina was pleased to learn that Gio didn’t drink whiskey as she recalled Kenneth’s excessive fondness for cocktails.  “Do you drink any type of liquor?”

“I’ll have the occasional beer, and of course wine is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“Yes, it certainly is.  I’ve always wanted to go to California wine country on assignment for the magazine, but that project has eluded me so far.  I would love to photograph the rolling vineyards and a wine grower with his prize vintage.” She said dreamily.

“You don’t have to be working when you travel, you know.  A trip like that could be a vacation.  Do you ever travel for pleasure?”

“Actually, no.  I can’t remember ever taking a trip that wasn’t tied into work somehow. I wonder what that would be like.”

“I’m sure it would be wonderful.”

“What about you?  You told me that you don’t go on leisure vacations either.”

“You’ve got me there.  I do take the occasional local trip to go camping or fishing, but that’s the extent.  I find it hard to get out of state when I’m on call so much.  And when I’m not on call, sometimes I just feel like doing nothing at all.”

“I could understand that.  But it seems like we could both use a vacation.”  Sabrina smiled suggestively at Gio, hoping she had just sparked his imagination. 

As Gio masterfully maneuvered the crowded city streets, Sabrina admired his strong profile as well as the cool control with which he drove.  A vacation in California wine country with this man would be blissful.  It was half past seven when Gio finally found parking on a side street near his uncle’s apartment.  The couple walked several blocks and reached the apartment.

“One request before we go in.  Please don’t judge me based on these weirdoes.  And don’t think my father had anything in common with them.  It was sometimes hard to believe that Marcello and Stefano Salvatore were really related by blood.”

Sabrina smiled, flattered that her opinion mattered so much to him.  “Don’t worry.  I don’t judge.  Let’s just keep an open mind about the evening and enjoy ourselves.”  Gio gave her a quick kiss on the lips and proceeded to ring the buzzer.

A sullen, gaunt-faced woman appeared at the door.  Sabrina surmised that this was Aunt Helena.  The silver-haired woman looked undernourished, and her skin had a pallor that signified ill health.  Even Gio seemed taken aback by her appearance, and Sabrina wondered if the woman had changed drastically since their last encounter. 

“You’re late.  You’ve ruined the surprise.”  These first words from the skeletal figure in the doorway were spoken in a cold, condescending tone. 

“Sabrina, please excuse her.  Aunt Helena, that was a very rude greeting.  You know how congested traffic can be, especially on a Saturday evening.  Is Uncle Stefano inside?”

“Yes, he arrived here at the appointed hour with our friends.”

“Then the surprise wasn’t ruined.  Our tardiness didn’t affect anything.”  Gio’s tone was as frosty as hers.  Sabrina stood there, feeling foolish holding the potted fern in her hands, as though it were a peace offering.

“Helena, this is for you.” Sabrina handed the plant to the woman, who took it from her without a word.  It was easy to see why Gio had found it impossible to live with this woman.  Even if Stefano had the jolly disposition of Santa Claus, this witch alone would make anyone feel unwelcome.

Gio intervened. “I’ll introduce you properly now.  Aunt Helena, this lovely lady is Sabrina Montrouge.” Sabrina was the first one to extend her hand, as Helena robotically did the same, her grip icy and reserved. 

“Come upstairs now.” Helena commanded, as Gio gestured for Sabrina to walk ahead of him.  Once upstairs, the sound of swing music pulsated through the apartment.  A small group of about twelve adults were mingling and drinking from red plastic cups.  A stout man wearing a cone-shaped birthday hat immediately spotted Gio and Sabrina. 

“It’s been a long time, Gio, boy.” 

Gio tried not to glower at the old fool for referring to him as ‘boy’ and instead gave him a pat on the back. “Happy birthday, Uncle Stefano.  This is Sabrina Montrouge.”  The man’s eyes took on a perusing glimmer that neither Gio nor Sabrina approved of.  Sabrina flushed hotly as Stefano examined her.

“Looks like you’ve got a good girl here.” Stefano winked as Gio looked at him condemningly. 

“Here you go.  I thought you’d enjoy a little whiskey.” Gio thrust the bottle into Stefano’s meaty hands while the older man laughed heartily.

“Thank you boy.  Go get yourselves something to eat now.”

“Will do.” Gio slid an arm around Sabrina’s waist and led her over to a paltry buffet spread.  He clasped a triangle sandwich between thumb and forefinger, as Sabrina scooped some three-bean salad onto a plastic plate.

“They’re atrocious hosts.” Gio whispered into her ear, pouring himself a cup of soda.  “There’s not even any ice out here,” he grumbled, “but I guess we could borrow some from Helena’s veins.”

Sabrina tried to stifle the laughter that was bubbling in her throat.  She picked at her food while glancing around the room, as several pairs of curious eyes fixated on her.  The whole evening seemed surreal so far, and Sabrina was surprised to feel a twinge of homesickness for her parents’ overprotective, yet loving home.  She couldn’t fathom how Gio could have survived all these years without a real family, how he could have become not only a functional, but also heroic, member of society.  The only explanation was that his parents had been truly extraordinary. 

Gio gobbled up a few more triangle sandwiches and took Sabrina by the hand, looking behind him as he led her to the spare bedroom where he had once been a guest.  Once in the spare room, Gio silently closed the door behind them.

“Don’t worry.  I’m not going to try any monkey business.” He assured her. 

Instead, he opened the closet and inventoried the contents.  There were clothes hanging, old books stacked up, and an unmarked box sealed with masking tape.  This last item caught Gio’s attention, and he lifted it out of the closet, peeling back the masking tape easily and estimating the box had been sealed for quite some time.  When he dug into the box, his pleasure was bittersweet.  Tucked inside were several business size envelopes, once white but now browned with age.  Inside the envelopes were photographs of his parents and brother.  Gio gasped with thick emotion as he held the first one between his hands, a picture of the four of them one Easter in the early 1960’s.  He held it up for Sabrina to see.

“Here they are,” Gio choked.

Sabrina didn’t touch the picture, but leaned in to get a close look at it.  His parents were both beautiful.  Marcello had a beard that made him look wise and a strong build with a height almost equivalent to his son’s.  Laura had long, chestnut colored hair and eyes that shone with happiness and family pride.  In her floral, knee-length dress, she looked both attractive and refined.  Carlo was a smiling boy with dimples to match Gio’s. 

“What a beautiful family.” Sabrina whispered, but Gio seemed not to hear.  He was sifting through about two dozen other pictures including a few of his baby pictures and some much older prints of Marcello as a child.

“It’s a shame that all these pictures are just wasting away in this box.  They should be properly preserved in a good quality photo album.  If I were you, I would take them.” Sabrina encouraged, nudging him.

“I want to take them, but…”

“But what?  But you think it would be stealing?  They’re rightfully yours, Gio.  You told me yourself that you don’t have any pictures of your family.”

“You’re right.  It makes me so outraged that they shoved these precious memories into some old box and stuffed it in a closet.”

“Here,” Sabrina unzipped her bag, “Let me hold them in my purse for you.” Gio conceded and handed her the pictures, quickly rummaging through the box and closet to see if there were any more objects that pertained to his parents.  But he found none.

Content with what he had unearthed, Gio said, “We better get back out there before anyone notices that we’re missing.  I promise we’ll be out of here after I can get a moment to talk to my uncle and tell him about the whole Bert Shanty fiasco.” 

Just as they were about to rejoin the party, Stefano stormed into the room, pushing the door open wide and pinning Sabrina against the wall.

“Sabrina, are you ok?” Gio asked, concerned, glowering once again at Stefano. 

She replied quickly, “Yes, I’m fine.  Don’t worry.”

Stefano looked at both of them contemptuously.  “What are you doing snooping around in here?”

Immune to intimidation, Gio dodged the question, “Now that Sabrina and I have had a few moments of privacy, we’re ready to socialize with your guests.  But I’m glad you came in here because I wanted to speak to you about an important matter.” 

“I have guests to entertain, boy.  If it’s important, you can tell me after they go.”

“Well, I’m afraid that won’t do because Sabrina and I have to head out shortly.  We have a long drive up north tonight.  Really, it is urgent and I suggest you lend your ear.”

Stefano’s impatience was mounting.  “You still haven’t answered my question about what you were doing in here---“

“Haven’t I?  As I said, Sabrina and I required some brief privacy.”

“This is not some swinging singles party!”

“Nor are we swinging singles.  We simply wanted a moment away from the commotion to have a private conversation.”  Gio knew he was openly lying and hated himself for it, but felt that he did not owe any courtesy to this man.  “Now do you want to know what I have to say or not?”