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Literature Text
Please remember this is an AU (Alternate Universe) Fan fiction, so not every character trait will be as exact as the canon series.
Enjoy~
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Ciao. My name is Lovino Vargas. A long, long time ago when I was very young, Mi Mamma and Papà moved to Little Italy in Boston. My Parents were Pasta Makers in Italy, but with tough times moved their business to this country of freedom. We lived in our restaurant with our actual house being the second floor. I remember as a tot, Watching Mamma shape the dough, feed it through the pasta Maker, and then watch Papà form the thin sheets of dough into Stringozzi or carefully craft a beautiful Fiori. They had such talented hands.
Now mi Mamma became pregnant with my Fratello, and you could imagine the excitement of a three-year-old! But even though things seemed perfectly fine, my parents split up. My Pregnant Mamma moved to venice with mi Nonna, And I stayed with Papà to help him with the shop.
Mi Papà hired a few friends from Boston he had earned in his time here, and they got to work while I still tried to help. It wasn’t till I was 10 I finally dawned my gondolier hat and fancy little bowtie (Mamma picked out the uniforms) and I began to work for Romulus’ Pasta and Drinks!
My Mornings once this feat was accomplished went a little like this. I’d get ready for school while I helped papà prepare a few toppings for his pasta dishes. Then right before I leave, I’d get my lunchbox that usually had some leftover pasta from last nights dinner course in the restaurant (Still tasted delicious none the less!). Then after school I would come running home from school every day, usually with my uniform in my backpack, thrown my books down and change so I could start working right away. I usually took orders and served them, which often got a few “Awws” From diners when I was still little. I also usually did most of the phone work since I knew fluent Italian and English, while Papà Knew fluent Italian and broken English. Around dinner time, Papà Would send me upstairs to do my homework, but not before asking me what I wanted for dinner so I we could eat together after his shift. Then before I usually went to bed, We’d spend a little bit of time together before Papà had to go back downstairs to tend to the customers. Tonight, Papà was teaching me how to make shaped Pasta. “Now give a little twist, Romano.” I gave a little giggle as I finished shaping my first Ricciolini. “Thanks for teaching me Papà!” “No problem mio figlio! Now you finish this okay? I have a guest coming over to the apartment tonight.”
This gave me a slight concern. Papà almost NEVER brought a guest up to the house, seeing as it was basically a giant storage closet. The kitchen has three refrigerators full of meat, cheese, vegetables and sauces. The House itself is littered with flour sacks and empty egg cartons and we have more cutting tools, mixing machines, and cutting boards then all of my friends do. Even my bedroom has a few extra bowls of pasta i’ve made!
“Are you having another Card game or something?” I questioned. “Ah no, I’m not…” He replied. “I’ve met...someone…” I was still confused, I was only 10 after all. “Who? A new friend?”
“I suppose so.” Papà said before a knock came at the door. “Romano why don’t you go to your room? I need some alone time with our guest okay?” then and there something really seems wrong. Papà usually doesn’t send me to my room unless i’m in trouble. Either way I say good night and head off to my bedroom.
What I later learned was that papà made a new lady friend whom didn’t take a good liking to little kids. I usually got yelled at if i messed up. I ignored it for papà’s sake until I was thirteen.
“Lovino! Get in here!” I trudged into the dish room to see my Papà’s girlfriend, Nina standing by the sink with a bowl. “What is this?” She hissed, pointing at a miniscule spot. “It’s a bowl-” “Don’t you dare talk like that! There is a spot in this bowl! What if a customer sees this!?” She kept ranting on and on and on until finally, something clicked in me. “You know what you wretched hag!? You can clean it because I am done! Cazzo! You make me miserable! I’ve lived with it because I love mi Papà! I will not love you unless you clean up your act! Capire!?” She never yelled at me again. I suppose that day Is why sometimes i’m rather...grouchy. But ten years later. Here I am. And today, I must move. Why? Papà’s retiring and Nina doesn’t want to keep the shop. Looks like this is only the beginning of my story...
