Chapter 5: Father

*Giorgio’s office room—11:45 PM*

“I am very angry,” Giorgio declared, steepling his fingers above the Pomeranian’s back fur.

“Not in a lifetime, huh?” Marco whispered angrily.

“A short lifetime, I should’ve added,” Junior whispered, joking.

The Pomeranian joyfully barked at the brothers and wiggled its paws and tail.

“Please, Junior, leave, take our boy Ravioli with you,” Giorgio said, with a serious tone, putting the Pomeranian, aka Ravioli, on the floor.

Ravioli, just as he landed on the ground, went running for the brothers. He, a seven-year-old, bounced on their legs. Junior picked Ravioli up, and the dog licked his face with his sandpaper tongue. Marco caressed the little fella and got licked as well. And finally, Junior left the room, closing the door, leaving an angry father with poor Piccolino.

Giorgio looked very assertive to Marco, who was crapping himself behind his confident posture. Giorgio raised his wrinkled finger to talk but shut himself, gruffed, and sat back on his chair, which he spun to not face the door, or better yet his son.

“So, again causing a fuzarca?” Giorgio said, not looking at Marco.

“Sì, papà, spiacente…” Marco said, remorseful.

“Well, where was it this time?” Giorgio asked, genuinely curious.

“My place.”

“What? Your place?” Giorgio jumped on his chair, emphasizing ‘your’. “I bought it for you, you only run it. Like a madman, I add.”

“It’s successful!” Marco argued.

“It’s a wh*re house!” Giorgio replied as if he was waiting for this excuse. “A mere excuse for creating a town for sins on Earth.”

“They’re only having fun,” Marco tried to argue.

“Unwanted pregnancies, STDs, and overall a bad place for the children of God!” Giorgio shouted, causing him to cough violently.

Marco, rushedly worried, came close to assist him, he held tightly his father’s arms. Giorgio kept coughing for a while until he calmed himself down and started breathing normally again. Giorgio started to tear up.

“Son, I have no idea if I am gonna make it through my treatment. This is why I worry about your well-being,” Giorgio said, with a trembling voice.

Giorgio looked at Marco better. Maybe he wanted to take a good look at his son, fearing he wouldn’t wake up the next morning to see him again. While looking at him, he saw a box and a lighter, almost falling out of Marco’s pockets.

“What is that in your pocket, son?” Giorgio asked.

“My chocolate rolls?” Marco replied, removing the box from his pocket.

The sight of a thing that resembled a cigarette triggered Giorgio, for he started dodging it.

“What are you doing?!” Giorgio shouted. “Porca p*ttana, you want to die like me, you idiot?!”

Marco knew it was serious, his father was very teary-eyed. So he put the box away and calmed the father, who started breathing hard again. Marco hugged his father from behind and held his hand. It took thirty long seconds for Giorgio to calm down.

“Shh papà, don’t worry, these are just chocolate bars,” Marco whispered.

“Chocolate?” Giorgio finally spoke, with a weakened voice.

“Yes, it would be good for you if you tried. These, which are darker chocolate, prevent heart diseases and overall just make you happier.”

“Oh really? That’s great,” Giorgio said, forming a smile. “You say that only because you like it.”

“No, it’s real, science says it.”

“Your nonna lived a full ninety-seven years, and all she needed was a loaf of bread and a glass of wine.”

“Other people may use other methods. I prefer chocolate.”

“If you say so…”

Silence.

“May I have one?” Giorgio asked with a kind old man's voice.

“Oh, sure,” Marco said, handing one of the rolls to his papà.

Giorgio could be old, but he took good care of his teeth once he stopped smoking. So chewing that chocolate roll wasn’t hard. Marco just looked at his father, slowly tilting the chair to face the door.

“So, you are taking chemo?” Marco asked.

Giorgio was delighted with the chocolate roll, so he said nothing at all. He only hummed in agreement, and pointed at his calendar, which stated that in a week, the “prossima sessione di chemio”. Then, Giorgio pointed at his head.

“Finally you will have a full bald spot?” Marco asked, caressing his papà’s hair.

Giorgio nodded in agreement. He chewed a little more and swallowed.

“So, what were you doing in that nightclub before it all got screwed?” Giorgio inquired, after burping.

“I was with a girl,” Marco replied, walking around the room.

“Which one, Felicia, Staci, Brook, Scarlett…?” Giorgio started listing.

“Well, that is the weird part: I don’t know,” Marco sighed, putting his hand on his nape.

“You have to be f*cking kidding me!”

“But I compensated on something, papà, I actually talked to her!” Marco said with enthusiasm, running towards his father.

“Actually? You mean all these ladies you told me about were… You little rascal!” Giorgio tried to spank Marco, but he dodged.

“I know, papà, after I talked to this new lady, I could see everything! Like everything I did wrong. I wanted to meet her again…”

“You actually wanna talk to women? Oh, son, you worked up so much in your pene that you forgot to use your brain.”

Marco laughed, but maybe Giorgio was right. Silence. Then Marco got close to Giorgio.

“Papà, how many women did you get close to? I mean, close, like, in love?” Marco questioned.

“In love? Two,” Giorgio revealed, with a soothing voice. “Your mother and a girl I met during a trip to Venezia. The Venezia girl was more of a crush, something that passed quickly. Now your mother, oh, we met in a bar here in the city of New York. We ordered the same drinks. We looked so much like we were made for each other, that the waiter gave us one drink and two straws. We had no choice but to drink it. While drinking, we looked at the eyes of each other. Some days later we met in town. Maria was so beautiful and so funny, such a lovely woman…”

While talking, Giorgio got teary-eyed.

“Son, now that you have access to your brains, let me tell you something. I made my marriage last, it could last forever, only death did us apart. Now, son, you have to be honest with her. If she can’t take honesty, leave, she’s not good for you. Just be your true self and honest, but listen to her and respect her most of all! If she doesn’t want anything, don’t force it! Only when you two get engaged in your talking and common interests, then you can start building something special.”

“How long did it take for you and mom?” Marco asked.

“Your mother and I?” Giorgio thought loudly. “From our first sight, until we married… One year.”

“One year? What if I find someone or if she finds someone else?”

“If you two know you are made for each other, and God agrees, it will work, eventually.”

“Eventually.”

Silence. Giorgio and Marco took a deep breath and released.

“Well, son,” Giorgio said, standing up and leaving the room. “We must sleep, we have a meeting tomorrow to discuss our gambling houses businesses.”

“Sì, papà, I’m coming,” Marco answered.

Giorgio left, followed by Marco, who closed the door.

“Eventually…” Marco thought again.