It was Monday night in downtown Toronto. Outside 1 Benvenuto Place, just off of Avenue Road, a giant Hummer glided toward Scaramouche, the restaurant that occupied said address. The driver parked across the way on Edmund Avenue. The windows were tinted dark.
Soon, Joseph Buonfiglio stepped out of the driver’s seat. In a smart suit, he was sporting what appeared to be a new toupee, and he was still adjusting to it. Nadine Buonfiglio emerged from shotgun, looking demure and classy, though she still looked hung over. However, she did not smell of booze, as she usually did. She smelled fresh and clean. And their daughter, Charlotte Buonfiglio, emerged from the back. She looked like a Hollywood starlet from the 1940s, and that was the look she was going for. The weather was chilling up, and they were slightly under-dressed.
1 Benvenuto Place was only a few blocks from the Buonfiglio family’s old neighbourhood, Corso Italia. Together, the three cut an impressive set of figures. They crossed the street and walked toward the restaurant.
In the warmth of the restaurant, a waitress led them to their table in the heart of the action. On a Monday night, the place was bustling and frenetic. After they settled in to their seats, the same waitress, a tall blonde named Lisa, took their orders.
Joseph ordered the following: as a first course, a smoked salmon “carpaccio”; to follow, the elk. Nadine chose the lobster ravioli to start and the chicken as her second course. Charlotte had some difficulty in choosing her dishes, but soon took Lisa’s suggestion of goat cheese salad and filet mignon as her dishes. As for wine, well, Nadine was a pro at that. She took one look at the wine list, compared that with what she and her family had ordered, and made her decisions within five seconds. Charlotte was the designated driver for the ride back to Brampton, so she only ordered San Pellegrino.
Midway through the family meal, Nadine, after knocking back half a bottle of Malvasia, said, “I’m so glad that we went out. It’s nice to have a lovely family dinner.”
“Our old house is a short drive from here,” Joseph said as he sliced his buttery elk. “Why don’t we check it out on our way home?”
“We don’t have time,” Nadine replied. “The snow will be falling shortly.”
Charlotte produced her cell phone from her purse and dialed a number. “I have to check on Savannah,” she said.
“Who did you leave her with?” Joseph asked.
“Brandon,” Charlotte replied. Brandon was her latest suitor. “Hello?… Hi, Brandon. This is Charlotte. Just calling to say hi. How’s Savannah?… What book is she reading to her?… Goodnight, Moon? Oh, that takes me back to elementary school. Brandon, we’ll be back around 10. See you then.”
She hung up and stuck her phone back in the purse.
“Did I ever tell you of a run-in I had recently?” Nadine asked, tucking into her chicken. “You will not believe who it was.”
“Who was it?” Charlotte replied.
“Dr. Claire Breedlove.”
Joseph and Charlotte’s faces were blank. “Who is she?” Joseph asked.
“You won’t believe it, but that bitch ass Graziano is her patient.”
Dinner suddenly stopped. “He’s seeing a shrink?” Charlotte asked, the disgust thick in her voice.
“Oh, that fucking asshole,” Joseph said. “Nadine, how did you know this?”
“I hired a private detective,” Nadine responded, putting back another glass of wine.
“Well, Brandon’s a private detective,” Charlotte said. “You could have hired him.”
“I decided a more independent approach would be sufficient. After the run-in at the cemetery, I was not prepared to take any chances. Anyway, he’s been tailing Graziano and the doctor bitch for weeks now. Neither of them suspect a thing. At least, the doctor didn’t at first.”
“Good for you,” Joseph said.
“I learned from the best, darling.” Nadine took a bite of her chicken and moaned in excitement. “This stuff is really good.”
“What have you unearthed about Ass-iano?” Charlotte asked.
“He’s living along the waterfront, in one of those high-rises. Probably a ‘kept’ relationship, I imagine. He sees the doctor bitch every Friday afternoon at 2PM. And he’s also dating some Slavic faggot.”
“Any details?”
“None so far, but my private detective called me earlier and said that he’s on the brink of a breakthrough.”
“Oh, Nadine,” Joseph smiled. “You’re the best. I can’t wait for the day when we wipe that scourge of humanity off the face of the Earth. It’ll be the Christmas present of a lifetime.”
And then a sinister smile appeared on his face. “I have a good idea. Let’s kill the little fucker sometime during the lead-up to Christmas. After Saint Lucia Day.”
“What’s going to happen on Saint Lucia Day?” Charlotte asked.
“You’ll soon find out, Charlotte. It’s going to be big.”
“Oh, fabulous!” Nadine cheered. “A death at Christmas. Just the thing we need to get back in the spirit of things.”
“I agree,” Charlotte replied. “That piece of shit has held this family back for far too long. I’m glad that he’s no longer in our lives. And I’ll be even happier when he’s dead and gone.”
“It’ll be just like that summer in 2000, when we lost both of our parents, Joseph. That was tragic, but it made us stronger. And we never had to hear their overbearing asses again.” Nadine raised her glass and beckoned Joseph and Charlotte to do the same.
“I propose a toast,” Nadine said, now slumping a bit in her seat. “Here’s to life without Graziano walking the face of the earth. Cin-cin, cent’anni!”
“Cin-cin, cent’anni!” The glasses of all three Buonfiglio family members present clinked gently, a contrast to the otherwise macabre statement that flowed from Nadine’s mouth.
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