#Chapter 300 – Five Years Later

As I walk down the street towards the little Italian kindergarten, the whispers start around me, as they always do. I listen to all of them, a big German Shepherd padding quietly at my heels. “Is that her?” “Yes, that’s the one – I heard she was her husband’s mistress before he married her – that she killed his wife –“ “No that’s not it – she was married to his son first.” “Turned the son gay, I heard –“ “I heard she killed her parents to get all of their money so he’d marry her, because his first wife was penniless and he went broke at strip clubs –“ “They’ve got gold buried beneath that vineyard of theirs – American gold.“ I smirk to myself, because it’s all old news to me now. This happens to me pretty much every day – all the Italian women in the town speculating about how I, the red-headed American, landed my gorgeous older husband. Of course, they wouldn’t say a damn word if they knew that I speak Italian now. Which is why I don’t tell them. I let them whisper what they