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“Mom and Dad are at Mom’s bakery to meet with the interior designer because she’s redecorating the place – again – Lola and Vincenzo are in Paris for their anniversary.”
“Is everyone gone? I thought it was family night tonight.”
“Your folks are here, on the terrace with Hugo and Catherinelle, but I haven’t seen the…” She didn’t get to finish, because the front door opened again behind us and high-pitched laughter in three tonalities got to my ears. Here they were – the munchkins.
Iris, Jasmine, and Rosalyn were triplets, daughters of my aunt Catherinelle and her husband, Hugo Mustafa. Three beauty queens with black hair like their dad’s and blue eyes like their mom’s.
You heard that right, my uncle, known by many as the Albanian Monster, because he drenched the streets of this city in the blood of his enemies and had more women in his bed – before Cat, of course – than most men have in a lifetime, was now a father to three girls. He called them his three little flowers, hence the names, but lately his pretty little flowers had started to grow up and it was driving him fucking crazy. This past winter the munchkins – which was my preferred nickname for them – turned sixteen and ever since that, Hugo put me and my cousin Cristiano, Vincenzo’s son, in charge of their security. Speaking of Cristiano, he was following behind them, with a mountain of boxes and shopping bags, looking like he ran had run a marathon.
“You need a hand, brother?” He shook his hand to say no, but the munchkins saw me, and all three jumped in my arms.
“Enzo!” They yelled all at once.
“Hey there. Did you drag Cristiano on another shopping spree?”
Jasmine, who was the collective voice of the group, spoke.
“We told dad to let us just take the driver, but he didn’t want to hear it.”
“Yes,” Rose continued, “and we really needed to make it to the Versace store. Mom’s taking us to Brazil next week and we needed matching swimsuits.” She was the one in charge of fashion, and Iris was the rational mind. Iris was the one taming the craziness of her sisters. God, I loved these girls. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we shared more blood than I did with the rest of my cousins, or maybe because they were the babies of the family. Even though keeping an eye on them was a full-time job, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would give my life for these girls.
Cristiano on the other hand, looked fed up with the task. He came back grumbling after dropping all the boxes at the end of the hallway.
“You know what, bro, since the four of you are so in love, why don’t you take them shopping from now on. I’m telling you, there’s no way these three ever get to ride in my car ever again. Jasmine here spilled iced coffee on my white leather interior. This is it, man, I’m telling Hugo to stop fooling around and put a bull on their tail.”
Romina and the girls went upstairs to change while Cristiano and I went to the terrace. Mom, Cat, and Dad were all talking over wine, but Uncle Hugo was waiting for us by the door.
“Where are my girls?” he barked at us.
“In their rooms with Romina, calm down.” My cousin replied.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. Cristiano, I called all of you, and no one answered. Why?”
“You need to relax, old man. I didn’t hear you call, and since we’re talking about this, why don’t you just get a bull to guard them. You don’t trust our guys or what?”
“Boy,” Hugo told him with a hand behind his head, “do you want to die a soldier?” My cousin was two years older than I, but he was behind in the ranks. It had a lot to do with the fact that I was the Don’s son, but it pissed the shit out of Cristiano.
“No, sir.”
“Good. Look after my girls.”
“Of course, I will, I love them, I just don’t get it.”
This was my cue to insert myself into the conversation. I loved to have some fun with Hugo. It was almost too easy to make him mad.
“Well, Criss, I guess dear uncle Hugo here is afraid that if he makes one of the guys watch his daughters, the bull will do to them what he used to do when he was Cat’s guard.” We all knew the story. She was under his watch when the romance happened.
“Gino,” he called for Dad, “I’m pretty close to punching your son in the face.”
Dad laughed, Mom shook her head, and Aunt Catherinelle jumped to her feet. She and I had a special bond – she wasn’t only my aunt; she was my friend and partner in crime. She was the one I called when I couldn’t drive myself home and I was only in my pants and one shoe, and the one who took me to the E.R to get stiches after I got into a fight at school.
“Monster, calm down. Leave my nephews alone.” She came to us, kissed Criss on the cheek and pulled me into her arms, “If he hits you, I’ll kick him out of the bedroom.”
“Thank you, and I love you.” Then I moved to my mom and kissed her hand. “Hey, Ma, how are you?”
“I’m good, baby.”
“You look a little tired. Everything alright?”
