Page 62 of Amadeo

Grumpy and bitter would be mild adjectives to use when it came to describing my father’s attitude after this. He had kept himself locked up in his study for days on end. Then suddenly, he finally came out to have dinner with the rest of us. But when he entered the dining room, he paused to stare at Valencia in a not so friendly way.

Tito looked upset and stepped over to intercede. He never got the chance to do or say anything though as Zia stepped up and glared at her brother.

We all held our breath as we waited for a family fight…It never came. All she did was whisper, “L'avevi promesso.”You promised.

My father looked over at her and made no reply. Then with a shake of his head, he sat in his usual chair and had dinner.

We all wondered at this promise that we had heard mentioned only a few times since our childhood. Neither my father nor Zia ever explained what promise had been made and why it had been made. All we knew was that whatever it had been was a powerful weapon when Zia chose to use it. No one else could ever stop that man with just two words.

After this, my father never treated Valencia with anything but smiles and respect. It seemed like he had simply forgotten his suspicions or he chose to keep the family happy. Knowing him though, he didn’t forget. But family meant everything to him.

Gia and I worried about Nurse Jocelyn and Deacon’s health at first but we figured the two of them must be safe somewhere. If my father hadn’t gotten a hold of them, they hadto have left the country. This tall man who had orchestrated this escape had it all planned it seemed. Whoever he was, he had done the impossible.

Gia had told me she was glad for it and I admitted to her that I felt glad as well. Why did I feel glad? Tito. He and Valencia were now planning their wedding and since we finally phased out of lockdown, they were busy with those plans.

As for me and the good doctor, we had grand plans as well. We also laughed a lot, we spent lots of time together and we took many trips to the stars.

NOT QUITE THE END…