THE ITALIAN BOSS

CHAPTER 1: THE SUDDEN DEATH

ANASTASIA

"Allow your chicken to fully cook, signora. People die from salmonella. We don't want that, now do we?"

I am finally doing what I love most, cheffing around the kitchen. After all the hard work of waitressing around the restaurant, I finally made it to the kitchen. I am now doing my practicals that I should have done the first time I set my foot in this restaurant. I don't know how others were managing, but I was getting impatient.

Waitressing plus the exams which I finally have my last one tomorrow, as it is my last day with the other students here in Two-Sec restaurant, it was exhausting, but I have learned a lot. I can't actually wait to start working.

"But, Tino. If the chicken stays in a pot for too long, it is going to start breaking, unprovoked," I add. Tino, the head chef laughs at me.

"I know, but you won't be overcooking the chicken, signora. That will be all for today, chefs! I wish you all the best with your final exam tomorrow. There are many open vacant looking for junior chefs; if you are interested, check out the list of restaurants on the yellow page on the board. It has all the details that you need. Good luck!"

I know that they will hire first the candidates who are originally based in Italy, so why bother wasting my resources, sending my application? But, let me just give it a try.

"Ana? Would you like me to send you the pictures of the job opportunities?" Lorenzo, the guy from my class whom I think he has a crush on me asks. He took a picture of the yellow page on the board.

"Yes please, Enzo,"

"Are you going to wait for your dad again?" He asks, probably wanting us to walk to the bus station together. I don't mind, but Lorenzo can make things awkward between us. I just wish he could stop staring at me weirdly. It makes me uncomfortable.

"No, we can travel together by bus, I don't mind," I say and watch him punch the air like he just scored a big deal. Am I a big deal?

***

"What are your plans after writing the exam tomorrow?" He asks as we settle on the bus seats.

"Catch up on my favourite series on Netflix," I flash a smile excitedly. I miss watching the series.

"Seriously? Come on, we can surely do much better than that," What!? Is he kidding me? Is there anything better than locking yourself in the bedroom, eating junk while watching a series on Netflix?

"Like?" I ask.

"Going to a nightclub, perhaps?" Night clubs? I wanted so much to cuddle with my daughter. I haven't spent much time with her these past few weeks as I had to juggle between her and my studies. I want to use the time I still have before I find a job and do what mothers and daughters do.

"Come on, signora. Everyone is going to be there. You don't want to miss out now do you?" He makes puppy eyes and bats his lashes. Maybe one night out won't hurt, right?

"Okay, fine. Just this once,"

"Yey! You won't regret it, I promise," He excitedly says.

The bus stops at the station where I have to get off. I hug Enzo and bid him farewell before I get off and walk at least a three minute distance to where I live.

My family and I moved to Italy five years ago. My dad's job required him to stay here and recently, we just obtained ourselves a permanent residency. We live in a neighbourhood called Vomero in Naples. A very welcoming neighbourhood. We moved here together with my siblings, Dewald and Junior. They are 17 year old twins; not forgetting my daughter, Beverly.

You must be wondering where her father is. When he found out that I am pregnant, the asshole told me to terminate the baby. We were still living in South Africa, but I was living with my granny, in Pretoria. I was in high school, doing my twelfth grade and he was already done with school, probably 21 years old that time. He used to be in a dangerous gang. So, in order for me and my baby to be safe, as soon as my grandmother learned about my pregnancy, she sent me to my parents in Woester, Cape Town. As disappointed as my parents were, they were and still are doing a lot for me and my daughter. My father has made sure that he sent my daughter to a good school Kindergarten, while my siblings are in their final year of high school.

"Mommy!" My daughter being the first one to see me as I approach our house. She runs to me and I open my arms so that I can catch her and embrace her.

"Hills!" We gave her the nickname Hills coming from Beverly Hills.

I spin her around and kiss her cheeks before I look at her brown eyes – her father's eyes. She is in between my colour and her father's colour as he is black and I am white. Let's just say she is coffee with milk in it – my coloured princess. Surprisingly, she has my hair texture and colour and I am very grateful for that. At least that is something that she inherited from me and we can do matching hairstyles.

I heard her father has been going up and down, searching for me in Cape Town. Our former landlord called and said that someone was here looking for me.

"He says you have something that belongs to him and he wants it to be returned if you know what is good for you."

Those were his exact words; but who cares. I'm in Italy and he will never get to us. He took years to find me gone in Cape Town, so I really don't have to sweat about him getting to me here in Italy.

"Mommy, I got two stars in the Italian spelling bee!" She excitedly says, bringing me back from my thoughts about her useless father.

"Is that so, my baby? Let's go in the house and you tell Mommy what you learned, okay?" I put her back on her feet and I watched her run to the house.

My daughter knows and understands Italian better than all of us. She started learning it from the age of 2, while she struggles a bit with speaking our home language, Afrikaans.

"Oh, hey daddy and mom. I didn't expect you home so early. Is everything okay?" I ask my dad, finding him sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"I was feeling chest pains I had to come back home early; but with your mother here by my side, I am grateful that I am taken care of," He says, rubbing his chest.

"Mommy!" Hills calls me out from upstairs.

"Okay, I'm coming baby!"

"There is food for you in the oven when you are hungry," My mom says.

"Thank you "

***

After giving my daughter a satisfying attention; I fed her and bathed her before I read her a bedtime story and got her to sleep.

Now, it was time for me to study for my exam tomorrow, but my mother startled me when she barged into my room, panting.

"Mom, you look like death. What is wrong?" I ask her.

"Ana, we need to get your father to the hospital. He is not getting any better,"

Without asking further more, I grabbed my robe and wore it before rushing downstairs, finding the twins helping dad to the car outside. Mom got in with Dad at the back, while I got the wheel. The twins promised to take care of my daughter until we got back home.

"Liefie look at me. Say something?" I hear my mom cry. My father tries saying something, but his voice hoarse and sounds very weak to even breathe.

I finally arrived at the hospital and my dad was immediately taken to the emergency room, while we waited in the waiting area.

God, I have an exam to write tomorrow. Even though I have been studying, I still need to revise some of my theory work. How am I going to study when I don't even know what is wrong with my dad? He needs to be fine, he has to!

I sit on the metallic benches and let my mother pace up and down. I am now stressed about both my father and my exam tomorrow. What time will we go back home? It's past 9PM already.

"Mom, please come and sit down? I am sure dad will be fine,"

With her hands covering her mouth, she shakes her head. "No, Ana. I will go crazy if I sit down. It is better when I am standing, pacing." Well, she is driving me crazy when she paces around.

To avoid that, I walk out to get myself some air. Instead, I got into my dad's car and waited there.

15 minutes, 30 minutes, 45 minutes, 1 hour passes and I am still waiting in the car. I finally got strength to walk back into the hospital and I believe I arrived in time as the doctor was talking to my mother. I rush down to them.

"Mom, how is Dad?" I put my arm around her shoulders.

"As I was saying, Mr Griffiths suffered a blockage of blood flow to the heart muscles, which resulted in him having a heart attack." The doctor says and runs his eyes between me and Mom, probably waiting for us to say something when we are actually waiting for him to continue.

"He is going to be fine, right?" I ask.

"Uhm, can you please follow me to my office?" Why? What is so hard of saying "yes, your father will be fine, signora" right here in the lobby?

The look on his face is worrying me. I don't think I like it.

"Doctor, whatever you want to say please just say it here and save us a trip to your office. We don't have all night," My mom says, feeling impatient.

"There is no easy way to say this, but Mr. Griffiths didn't make it, I am so sorry," Huh?

"What do you mean Mr. Griffiths didn't make it? Make it to where?" I ask.

"I mean that your father died, young miss. I truly apologize. If you want to see him, I can take you to the ward before we send him to the morgue. You may come back tomorrow in the morning to collect him to your desired morgue,"

My father can't die. He cannot leave us so soon. A heart attack? How? I thought everything was fine at work. If he did have problems there, why didn't he tell us instead of suffering inside? What actually resulted in him having a heart attack?

I refuse! This can't be true.

I look at my very quiet mom who hasn't spoken a word. We are both not crying, but at least I am still showing signs of living. My mom, she looks dead inside. "Mom?" I shake her.

"I want to see dad," She gives me a weak smile and I know that she is trying to be strong when she is dying inside.

We entered the ward and there he was, covered in a white sheet from head to toe.

“From what we realised, Mr. Griffiths has been experiencing a heart attack for a while before you brought him here. Was he perhaps showing signs of chest pains?" The doctor asks and I remember he complained about chest pains earlier. This confirms the heart attack.

He lowered the sheet just a little from the head to the shoulders and I couldn't hold myself from crying. My dad is gone and I am never going to see him again. He looks peacefully sleeping, like he will wake up soon.

"He is gone, mom. Daddy is gone!" My mom just stood, not saying anything. She is not even blinking her eyes. Her fists are clenched very tight. That is when I realised that something was wrong with her.

"She's in shock! Nurse, charge the defibrillators for her. She could be having stroke!" The doctor shouts his orders.

"Stroke!? Nee, ma. Moet dit asseblief nie aan my doen nie!" (No, mom. Please don't do this to me!) Why is she being stubborn!? Dad is gone, I have an exam to write tomorrow and yet she wants to add on to my stress.

I watch as the paramedics who were nearby carry her to another ward. Why is my mom being so selfish? Why does she want me to be the one who has to carry the dynamic? I couldn't stay anymore in the hospital because I had to head back home to my siblings and my daughter. I assured the doctor that as soon as after I write my exam, I will come to the hospital and attend to everything. They were kind enough and understanding that I already had a lot going on.

My exam is very important and I know that my dad wouldn't want me to just give up when I have come this far. It is my final exam before I can finally graduate from the culinary school.

I drove back home at a speed of 40km/h. I eventually made it home and the house was peacefully quiet. I checked on the twins' room and Dewald immediately woke up. He is a light sleeper after all.

"Gaan pa beter wees?" (Is dad going to be better?)

How do I tell him that dad is gone and never coming back?

"Sleep. You have school tomorrow," Actually, in a few hours. It passed 12 AM already.

I went to check on my daughter in her room and as always, she sleeps like she is in the boxing ring. The whole blanket is on the floor. I wonder if she isn't feeling any cold.

Making sure that I put her in the right position and cover her with a blanket, I walk out going to my room. As soon as I shut the door, I burst into tears – throwing myself on my bed. His death was just so sudden. He didn't seem like someone troubled to have a heart attack and suddenly die, just like that. Something caused his death and I demand to get answers.

***