From the Sky - Part XII

From the Sky - Part XII

By James M. O'Meara, © 2011

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Little toasts...

"Papa, are you sick?"

Ernesto sat at the desk in the bakery's business office, a fisted hand up to his mouth, eyes closed. He looked up, ran his hand through his lightly-curled salt and pepper hair and tried to smile.

"Agita, Zia. Just agita. There's so much to do. The wedding cakes! The picnic!"

"You have agita because you and Uncle Gio fight all the time over a woman you barely know."

"Tell me her name," Ernesto urged his youngest daughter. "Surely you know it!"

"Of course I know her name, Papa."

Ernesto waited but Zia said nothing.

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