Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Family Secrets

G iovanni was relieved the Cappellas' trip was uneventful and they arrived with all their luggage. His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. It was as if the thought of his luggage made his phone ring. It was the airline informing him that they found his suitcase. It was in Milan. It would take at least two days before he could retrieve it in Naples. Giovanni was convinced the sneakers and a tracksuit in a carry-on was going to be his look for this trip.

But he needed a suit for mass, and Marco only had one with him. He checked his watch. It was four o'clock. He had a little time to run into town to see what he could purchase before he had to be back at the house. He phoned Frankie to let her know he was on a mission. For clothes. Again.

"Gio, what about one of your father's suits? Or did your mother give them away?"

"I dunno."

"Hang on a second." Frankie went through the house in search of Rosevita.

"Ah, Rosevita. Gio still does not have his suitcase. I don't know how to ask you, but do you still have any of Mr. Lombardi's suits?"

Rosevita blinked several times. " Sì . I was going to donate for the holidays but did not have time. There are a few beautiful pieces I think will fit Giovanni. Tell him to come home now, and we will see what we can do."

Giovanni could hear his mother on the other end. "Perfetto!" But he had mixed feelings. He was annoyed that his luggage was still days away; he was happy he didn't have to beat his way through last-minute shoppers, but he was also confused as to how he would feel wearing something that once belonged to his father. Worse, how would his mother feel about it? He supposed he was going to find out.

Within minutes, he was back at the house. The first thing he noticed was the Christmas tree leaning precariously to one side. He straightened it before he went in, wondering when his brother would return.

Frankie met him at the door. "You really need to find a better way to travel," she joked. "But your mother has two gorgeous suits that may fit you."

Giovanni was uneasy. Would they smell like mothballs?

His mother was at the top of the stairs of the second floor, where her and Lucia's bedrooms were situated.

"Gio! Come!" She was very animated.

Giovanni followed into her bedroom. On one side of the room was an armoire. The doors were open, exhibiting two impeccably tailored suits. One was dark gray and the other dark navy. She held the navy suit up against his chest. "I think this will work!"

Giovanni was slightly taller than his father, so the pants might be an issue, but the clock was ticking. At least he wouldn't look any more ridiculous than he did in the tracksuit and loafers. He took the suit into the bathroom and tried it on. The jacket fit perfectly, but as he suspected, the pants hit at his ankle. Perhaps a dark pair of socks could make everything blend in. Besides, who was looking at your shoes when you were in church? Probably everybody.

He walked over to where his mother and Frankie were standing. His mother's hands flew up to her face, but not in horror. It was delight.

"You remind me of your father. So handsome."

Frankie agreed. "That suit looks spectacular on you."

Giovanni looked down at the hem of the slacks. Frankie stooped to see if there was any wiggle room for dropping the length. She glanced up at Giovanni. "Better wear a dark pair of socks."

"Like I say before, I am a fashion innovator." He hugged his mother. "You sure you don't mind?"

"No! I am happy you can wear it." Rosevita was ver-klempt. "Okay, take it off now, and I'll hang it outside so it can be fresh for tomorrow."

Giovanni returned to the bathroom and changed back into his own clothes. "I am going to need a shirt and tie."

"I know Marco has a white shirt. I put it in the laundry this morning. I'll iron it for you."

"What about Marco?"

"You will have to live with short pants. He will have to live with a different shirt," Rosevita said firmly.

The dogs announced another vehicle. Rosevita looked out the window. "Speak of Marco. He is here."

" Bene . We can bring the tree inside," Giovanni said, with relief in his voice. Why did traveling and clothes become a problem for him? At least this problem was solved. Sorta.

Giovanni and Frankie hurried down the stairs while Rosevita hung the suit on the lamp on her balcony.

The furniture had been moved earlier that day in order to accommodate the large tree. Rosevita directed them through the archway as the brothers lugged the giant fir into the house. Traditional ornaments and strings of lights were stacked in boxes, ready to adorn the tree. In order to keep the chaos under control, the plan was to decorate it after the children went to bed.

There was no room in the kitchen to prepare a big meal that evening, so it would be an early dinner of soup, bread, cheese, and dried sausage. Rafaella agreed to let Sophia and Lorenzo have a sleepover at her house to be sure they were out of everyone's hair. Once the tree was secure, Marco drove the kids to his cousin's house and returned about forty minutes later.

It was past seven before the first strand of lights was placed on the tree, and it took another three hours to finish the job. Rosevita handed the tree topper to Frankie. It was an angel decorated with gold, holding a star in her hands.

"You can do this."

Frankie was flattered. It was an honor to place the star at the top. Giovanni helped her up the ladder and held on to her hips. He had no other option if he wanted her to remain steady. They were on one side of the tree, and the others were on the other side, making it easy for Giovanni to give her a pat on her hiney. Frankie tried to stifle a giggle, but to no avail, and almost lost her balance.

"Easy!" Rosevita exclaimed. "That angel has been in the family many years."

"Not to worry, Mama. Everything is under control," Giovanni reassured her.

"Sometimes you are worse than the children," Lucia muttered.

Frankie noticed Lucia was in a bit of a sour mood. Maybe she was tired?

"Lucia, come. Let me make you some tea," Frankie offered.

Lucia looked surprised.

"I have a recipe my grandfather would make when we decorated the tree. You have some brandy?"

"Of course." Suddenly Lucia's face brightened. "Come." Giovanni gave Frankie a raised eyebrow, and she responded with a wink. The two women shuffled into the kitchen, and Frankie put the kettle on the stove while Lucia fetched the brandy from the pantry.

"We use this for cooking," she said as she handed the bottle to Frankie.

"We use it for drinking," Frankie said with a devilish grin.

Lucia laughed out loud, her mood shifting into something more pleasant. She pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Frankie reached into the tea canister and plucked a few bags. Then she went back into the pantry and found a bottle of honey and a fresh lemon. When the water started to boil, she removed the kettle from the heat and poured the water over the tea bags, added the honey, a squeeze of lemon, and then the brandy. She took the bags out quickly.

"You no let it steep?"

"Just enough for flavor." She stirred the concoction and handed a cup to Lucia.

Lucia looked skeptical but took a sip. She nodded. "This is not so bad."

Frankie purposely wanted to spend some time alone with Lucia. She was determined to find out what made her tick. She began by asking questions about living in Salerno, waiting for an opportunity to bring up her husband. Frankie sensed there was a lot of pain the woman was holding inside, but it had been years since he passed. What was she clinging to?

Before she could get down to the heart of the matter, the rest of the family entered the kitchen, asking if they could have some of Grandpa Cappella's special tonic. By that time, Lucia had loosened up and was more relaxed. Rosevita gave Frankie a nod of approval.

Frankie made more of the evening elixir, and everyone enjoyed a cup together before they returned to the living room one more time to admire their work. Lucia carried a tray of very small cordial glasses filled with brandy. Each took a glass, and they made a toast to the spectacular tree adorned with five hundred tiny white lights and over a hundred ornaments. They said their goodnights and retired to their rooms.

Frankie's body clock was still in flux, and she woke up around two in the morning. She figured she should make herself another cup of tea, or maybe just skip straight to the brandy. The kitchen was dark, with the exception of light coming from under the pantry door. She thought she heard voices and became uneasy. Her first instinct was to pick up the heavy cast-iron frying pan that was sitting on the stove. But then what?

She crept closer to the door and leaned against it, but it wasn't latched, and she stumbled. When she steadied herself, she was holding the frying pan over her head, with Marco and Giovanni crouched on the floor. Evidence of panettone crumbs were all over their faces.

"What are you doing?" she said in a hushed, nervous voice.

"What are you doing?" Giovanni retorted. "Shush. Close the door."

Frankie slid to the floor, now eye to eye with the brothers. She noticed that they were eating from the bottom of the bread.

"I repeat. What are you doing besides pilfering the panettone?"

Giovanni gave her another shush and wiped his hands on a towel.

"We are trying to find out Mama's recipe."

"Why don't you just ask her?" Frankie wondered.

"Because it's a secret," the brothers whispered in unison.

"And what are you doing with a frying pan?" Giovanni asked.

"I don't know. A weapon?" Frankie said awkwardly.

"You were gonna fight a burglar with a skillet?" Marco asked wryly.

"It was a reflex," Frankie defended herself.

"Like one of those stupid movies when the babysitter goes in the basement?" Marco joked.

"Ha. Ha. No, I was going to scream while I was beating them over the head. ‘Stay away from our panettone!' "

Frankie stopped abruptly. She thought she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Shush."

She reached up, turned off the pantry light, and pulled the door tight.

They listened for more sounds. Someone stepped into the kitchen. "Hello?"

It was a woman's voice. Perhaps Rosevita. Whoever it was didn't say anything else, but turned off the kitchen lights and moved down the hall and back up the stairs.

When it was quiet, Frankie slowly opened the door and crawled out. She looked down the dimly lit hallway. The coast was clear, and she waved the brothers out.

"We have to wrap the bread," Giovanni whispered.

"As if no one is going to notice a half-eaten panettone?" Frankie asked.

"We only ruined the bottom of one of them."

"And did you accomplish your mission?" Frankie chided them.

"Not exactly. But I will fix this. I'll be sure this one is in the back, and I'll cut it up on Christmas." Giovanni cleaned up the crumbs, wrapped the bread, and placed it behind the others.

They finally tiptoed their way back to their sleeping quarters, hoping their scheme wasn't discovered by anyone else. Frankie shook her head. It was like being with the Little Rascals.