Chapter 14: Padrino, Can You Hear Me?

Hank has endeavored to move on from his past, but isn't prepared to meet his parents for the first time, who are looking to become a part of his life again.

"Good morning, everyone! In a moment of good news today, a lowlife vigilante caught murdering a jewel thief is now officially in cuffs. When questioned about his intentions, he claims that he was inspired by the efforts of the Looks Don't Matter crew, a group of activists who were once granted government permission to fight off a swath of dangerous criminals."

Watching that broadcast was Hank, who happened to be strolling by a corner-store with a whole slew of TVs on display in its front window. Aside from the spiel on the screens before him, nothing interesting seemed to be happening today. It would be his turn to do his shifts back at the restaurant he called home, where he could expect to switch between cooking and bussing, and possibly have another encounter with that mystery woman. But all of that would have to wait for now, as Mary & Maxwell's wouldn't be open for another hour or so. As the reporter continued her tirade, he couldn't help but shake his head at what he was hearing.

"Ugh, sometimes I wish things remained as they were in the early 20th Century," he groaned, gazing down at the family beagle, who was on his leash as he lifted his leg against a tree. "You understand, right Leopold? It used to be dat' these stories were just published in newspapers. Ya' couldn't understand 'em if ya' couldn't read. And even when radio shows became a thing, ya' needed to have a decent imagination."

Leopold just sat there and cocked his head to the side, emitting a puzzled whimper.

"But nowadays, with the TV becomin' a standard for the American household, everyone, no matter how impressionable, is able to see da' messed up stuff that happens in his world, all in its purest form, and they never grow up," Hank continued.

"You speak as if you was around back durin' those old days," a tall but portly man with a patched, three-piece suit and broad, square shoulders abruptly chimed in.

"Huh?"

Turning around, he noticed a pair of older folks standing nearby, gracing him with some heartfelt smiles�"not the kind that one would typically give to a stranger. They both looked rather old, but had sallow skin, golden brown eyes, and dark brown hair; the man's was styled into a combover and sported a gray stripe around the sides and back, while the woman's was curly and voluminous, forming a heel-length curtain that would've swept the floor if not for the high-heels she had on. She was a head shorter than her husband, but much skinnier, with lanky limbs and defined cheekbones. Her skunk-skin overcoat nearly obscured her low-cut, form-fitting ballgown, which possessed a large slit that revealed a fishnet stocking on her leg. To Hank, these two were complete strangers, although he couldn't shake the feeling that they were something more.

"Heh, you even freeze up when you're called out on somethin'," the man chuckled. Only then did Hank make note of his coarse Buffalo vernacular.

"Yep, I think we've found 'im, Giulio." the woman readied an imported cigar with a lighter she pulled out of her plump cleavage. Her dialect was similar to her husband's, but mixed in with a full-on Italian one, suggesting she hadn't been in America for as long. Perhaps she hadn't even been documented yet?

"Found who? Wh-What's this about?" Hank looked a little uneasy, keeping his free arm within easy reach of the handgun he always carried on him, but not wanting to make it completely obvious. Leopold took the time to sniff the strangers' ankles, only to immediately spring backwards and start growling.

"At ease, young man. We don't want no trouble." Giulio backed up a little. "But… judgin' by your behavior an' the way you look, I'd say you're just the man we's lookin' for."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"How to put this delicately… is your name by any chance Hank Giordano Russo?" the woman asked, her accent becoming even more Italian as she pronounced his name.

"Erm, yes?"

"Well then I dunno how else to put it, but… you'se our son."

Silence. Nothing but pure, deafening silence as Hank took the time to process what he'd just heard. These people, these two random strangers who had just randomly stumbled across him… were his parents? Just how could that be? To be fair, though, they did have his eyes and hair, but what kind of indicator was that?

"Beg your pardon?" Hank raised a weary eyebrow.

"We'll explain later. We gots places to be right now," Giulio replied, slapping a hand onto his "son"s shoulder. "But we will definitely stay in touch. C'mon, Elena. Toot sweet."

"B-But wait! I don't even know how to contact you!"

"Oh, we know where you is." Elena looked back.

"Yeah, we've seen you struttin' 'round that weird restaurant downtown… what was it, Marty and Mack's?" Giulio scratched his head, his other arm wrapped around his wife.

"Eh, we'll know when we see it. Ciao!"

"Addio!"

As Hank just stood there in complete bewilderment, which was also mixed up with a tinge of excitement, Leopold sat down by his shins, cocking his head in confusion as he let out a whine.

---

"…and then they just… left?" Monica asked with a tone of skepticism, breast-feeding both of her sons on the living room couch. It was now past sunset, as the restaurant was wrapping up its night shift downstairs. "With not even a trace?"

"Pshaw, it was probably an oversight. Side effect a'bein' excited, y'know?" Hank replied, lifting a foil-covered casserole pan out of the oven, before quickly lifting a pot off the stove and dumping the pasta within into a colander in the sink. "Regardless, hopefully they won't forget after tonight."

"Hank, you know I'm happy for you. I may be a blunt, cynical b***h, but I ain't made of stone," Mary replied as she passed through the room. "But just remember, since you gunked up my kitchen, you're the one who's gonna have to clean it up. That, and be careful not to get too latched onto these folks. There's usually a reason why some parents abandon their kids for extended periods of time."

"Aw, don't worry. I know."

"Hey, uh, guys? Some strange couple just showed up right after I closed up, and they insisted that they're with one of you," Xander spoke up, entering the apartment alongside Giulio and Elena.

"Well that's because they are." Hank stopped what he was doing and fast-walked over, pulling both of his parents into a hug. "Hiya, ma. Pops."

"Oh… kay, clearly I missed out on some things."

"Good to see you again, son," Elena said in that soothing, velvety voice of hers, embracing her long-lost child with her spidery arms and fingers.

"Lemme guess, you'se the one who cooked this wonderful-smellin' dinner?" Giulio asked.

"You know it." Hank smiled.

"Oh, so he's got the cookin' gene too, uh?"

"Obviously from my side," Elena chuckled.

"Hello, you two. I'm Monica, and before you ask, no I don't have an OnlyFans." Monica stood up to shake their hands, having re-buttoned her undersized plaid shirt right before the odd couple arrived. "But uh… I did have your grandson."

"O-ho, is that right?" Giulio queried, slowly accepting Morty into his arms as his wife gazed over his shoulder. "Ciao bella, nipote."

"Congratulazioni, Hank. But, uh, who is that other baby?" Elena pondered.

"Oh, he's Xander's kid. It's a long story." an unamused Monica jerked a thumb towards Xander, who simply waved. It was a pretty tame greeting compared to the ones he would usually give, which would be a sign of something being wrong, but nobody seemed to question it.

---

Suspicions aside, dinner that evening went over well without any notable hitches. It wasn't often when the Lloyds would have people over, but during those rare instances, Mary would usually be in charge of cooking. But this time, Hank took the reins for supper, undoubtedly to impress his folks. Dinner consisted of chicken parmesan served over angel hair pasta alfredo, all doused in a velvety fra diavolo sauce and topped with curled shavings of pecorino romano cheese. Seemed unusually placid for the family to cook up, but better to play it safe so as to not turn off Giulio and Elena.

Soon as the food was served, everyone quieted down, rendering the room completely silent aside from soft, closed-mouthed chewing, and the clattering of utensils. The lack of noise allowed the group to heighten their other senses, particularly taste and feel, allowing them to savor every aspect of what they were eating. And judging by the fact that everyone ate more than a few bites, it was safe to assume they were enjoying their meal… that is, until Elena swallowed her most recent bite and winced, not so much looking disgusted as she did befuddled.

"Er… is it me, or am I detecting a hint a'mustard in this passata?" she quietly inquired.

"Nah, it ain't just you." Giulio shook his head, cutting deeper into his oven-fried chicken breast. "And look, there's gammon and Swiss stuffed inside this."

"Like it? I call it 'chicken cordon bleu parmesan.' Came up with it the other day," Hank explained, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Ah, bellissimo, mi figlio!"

Soon as their son nodded and turned elsewhere to chat with the others, the two parents looked at each other and exchanged some concerned looks, continuing to eat as they talked.

"Yeah, we'd better get 'im outta here," Giulio muttered. "His time workin' for these do-gooders is gettin' to 'im. He's losin' 'is Italian."

"No kiddin'. I managed to get a peek at the dessert for tonight. Bacon-chocolate gelato? Who da' hell comes up with this crap?" Elena replied at the same volume.

"I say we finish this back on our own turf. Better to spread our influence in a larger dose."

"Honestly, the fact that you even considered doin' it here with his new family around is crazy enough."

"Ey, like it's my fault I'm a little rusty."

"Yo, what are y'all whispering about?" Xander interjected, halting the two in their tracks. Conveniently, a brief chime sounded from Giulio's phone.

"Eh, nothin' important. But we just got a text, sayin' we're needed somewhere." Elena stood up, playing it cool and not hesitating a bit.

"We'll see ya' around, eh son?" Giulio followed suit, putting his emptied plate on the coffee table and walking over to hug Hank, making it as tight and affectionate as he possibly could. "Wish we could stay for dessert, but business never rests."

"Whoa, a business you say? What kind?" Mary was on the edge of her seat, never missing a chance to chat with other business owners. "Maybe we could exchange some tips and techniques sometime."

"Yes, well that'll hafta wait for now. So long, everyone!" Elena was the last one out the door, waving goodbye to the Lloyds.

"The downstairs door's unlocked from the inside!" Monica called after them, receiving no verbal response as the apartment door was closed for good. The room then went silent for a moment. "Huh, interesting folks."

"Agreed. It's still pretty surreal to know we have more grandparents than the average family," Mary mused, finishing her second helping of the chicken. "Then again, if it means we get more leisure time, then I'm not complaining."

"Please, knowing you, you'd probably just take advantage of their presence and make us work more hours while they babysit."

"Heh, it'll be cool to eventually meet your folks sometime, eh Xander?" Hank chuckled as he shelved the leftovers in the fridge.

"Not so sure about that. I had to get delivered from Mom's corpse, and Dad's all but senile these days," Xander replied, maintaining his unusual tone from earlier. "But moving on, I can't shake the feeling that those two have some ulterior motive. I mean, why else would they suddenly show up unannounced twenty-one years after they gave you up? Not to mention they seemingly knew where you lived, which just smacks of stalker."

"Well to be fair, we do live on top of one of the most talked-about restaurants in Burlington."

"Geez, I'd normally expect this type of paranoia out of Hank, but you?" Monica asked incredulously.

"Well hey, someone has to be the grounded one around here, and since Hank's been taking their bait, hook, line, and sinker, I figured I'd better step up," Xander explained, helping the others clean up the living room. "Now, it's more than possible I could be wrong about all this, and that's all well and good… but if nothing else, all I want you to do is be careful. You can do that, right?"

"Whaddaya talkin' about? I'm always careful," Hank spat in a rare moment of cockiness.

"Mm-hmm… oh alright, I guess I'll leave you be for now."

"Glad to hear it. Now does anyone else have some pointers to offer me about tonight's dinner? I'd like to put it on the menu sometime soon."