Family: Out of Business

Fled

EJ's pov

Now that Claire and I have fled from Italy, my father, and the family business altogether, it's time to figure out what comes next. I don't regret my decision to leave my old life behind, with Tony's brat in tow, but I honestly didn't think things through either. I planned our escape down to the last detail but I didn't have enough time to plan out a course of action for our survival once we actually got out.

What the Hell do I do now? I thought to myself as Claire and I sat down to dine al fresco at a small cafe.

"Tomaré un vaso de chardonnay y la niña tomará una limonada, gracias (I will have a glass of chardonnay and the girl will have a lemonade, thank you)," I told the waiter, as he placed two menus atop the small round table.

"I didn't know you could speak Spanish, Uncle EJ," my clueless niece babbled in her annoying American accent.

"I'm surprised you recognized what language I was speaking. Perhaps there's hope for you yet to become bilingual before you're eighty," I snarked, picking up the menu to view my options, despite not having much of an appetite. "There's a lot you don't know about me, mia nipote (my niece), and if you ever bothered to study your Italian, you would know several words are quite similar in Spanish."

"Does this mean I don't have to study my Italian while we're not in Italy?" Claire asked, as the waiter set our drinks down. "When are we going back, anyway? I only packed enough clothes for a few days. And where did you put my phone? I want to call Aunt Lexie and Samantha?" She looked at me expectantly while taking a sip of her lemonade.

After taking a rather large gulp of chardonnay, I eyed my niece closely as I pondered how I was going to break the news to her that we were not going back to Italy and she'd never speak to her aunt or any of her friends ever again.

"Just decide what you want to eat before I call the waiter back over." Alright, so I'm a coward. I admit it. I'm afraid of facing the wrath of an eleven-year-old girl, so sue me.

"It's in Spanish, Uncle EJ. I can't read the menu. Duh!" my bratty little niece replied snottily, making me want to reach across the table and smack her.

I restrained myself though as I didn't want to bring any undue, unwanted attention to ourselves. She'll pay for that snide remark at some point as I'll bank it for later.

Sighing at her uncultured ignorance, I said, "They have rice and beans and pork sandwiches. Which do you want?"

"That's it?" she whined. "There's like fifteen different things listed on the menu. How can they only have rice and beans and a pork sandwich?" She looked at me like I was a two-headed alien space creature. "Why are you lying to me?"

I simply shook my head and took a few calming breaths.

"I'm not lying to you. They're all just variations of... You know what? Nevermind, I'll just order for you since you're being obstinate."

"No! Uncle EJ, I'm not being opposite or whatever you just said," she whined in her nails on a chalkboard grating tone of voice, as she slammed the menu down noisily on the tabletop.

I gave her my parental watch yourself look, so she spoke much more politely now.

"Please just read me the menu."

"One time, piccola ragazza (little girl), and then you will choose, or I'll take you into el baño (the bathroom) and spank some cooperation into you. Capiscimi (Understand me)?"

"Si, Zio (Yes, Uncle), I understand you, even though you're not making any sense," she said, mumbling the last part under her breath.

Ignoring her facetiousness for the sake of time and simplicity, I proceeded to translate the menu for her. Thankfully, my annoying niece wisely chose her lunch option rather quickly after hearing the choices. Once we ordered our meals and another glass of wine for me, I started to formulate a plan to at least get us through the next few days. Baby steps.