Laugh it up, furball. Mock me all you want. You’d be sad if I wrote less.
So, a little birdie mentioned at dinner earlier this week that you looked a little shaggy the last time he visited you. You’ll be happy to know Vinny defended your honor with a punch to Tore’s gut for laughing at his own poor joke.
Delivery probably won’t get to you for another few days, but happy birthday anyway. It’s the best razor in the prison shopping catalog. Hope you like it. Don’t stay shaggy, my friend.
Chapter 24
Ainsley – eighteen / Renzo – thirty-one
Piccola Rompiscatole,
Happy Birthday.Benvenuta nel mondo degli adulti. Welcome to adulthood.
A choice lies before you. Will you now choose between the life of a sinner or a saint?
Here is my honest opinion: You have gotten used to this life. The same one that tossed yours upside down. You enjoy what the life of a sinner brings, because you never were the little saint you believed yourself to be, no matter how much you tried to hide it. There is a sinner in all of us. I believe Oscar Wilde said it best: “Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” You cannot have one without the other.
With that thought, I hope you take care of the right-of-passage gift you will be receiving shortly. It has been one of my favorites for years. Now it’s yours. Take care of it and yourself. Responsibility is never easy, but you will find the more you have, the brighter your self-worth will burn, the heavier the burden will weigh, and the harder the decisions will be.
Che i tuoi diciotto anni siano l'inizio di un'avventura straordinaria.May your eighteen years be the beginning of an extraordinary adventure. Don’t let anyone choose it for you. Not even me.
Sincerely,
Renzo Iannelli
TWINS
Ha. You and Vinny had the same thought.
I’ve officially started collecting my own armory. And don’t worry, before you say anything, both are locked away. There’s no risk that Boyan or Lou will get to them. You don’t have to get on your high horse with the whole “I know better than you” spiel. Both Tore and Vinny have always been very pushy about gun safety around all three of us.
It’s not like I’ll shoot myself in the foot. Vinny has been taking me to the gun range for the last two years already, and I’m pretty adept at hitting a target. Shocking, I know. I’m imagining the rise of your eyebrows right now as you process how the poor, naive young orphan you once knew isn’t all that fragile and ignorant anymore. Tore is already talking about starting to take Lou to the gun range once she turns ten in October. After everything we’ve been through with all the infestation attempts in the last two years, I didn’t even argue. Better safe than sorry.
To answer your question. I’m no saint. Never have been. Never will be. I don’t really believe people that virtuous ever existed. Am I a sinner? Most definitely. In my opinion, everyone is. To what degree depends on how far each person is willing to go and for what reason. Loved ones are my trigger. I’m willing to sin to the max if it protects them. I think you’re the same.
P.S. You know I looked up that new nickname.Rompiscatole. Not a huge fan. I’d been hoping it was an improvement on the last one. Barely. The upgrade from pest to nuisance isn’t quite as satisfying as you’d think.
Piccola Rompiscatole,
It is a good thing I don’t live to satisfy your need to have your ego stroked. Youarea nuisance. One I cannot seem to shake, regardless of your few entertaining moments. But even I can admit, you are good company.
Recent news: I have received a letter from France. I am now an uncle. My sister gave birth to a wrinkly baby girl named Juliette. It is a shame there is no prosecco here to toast with and celebrate.
Take care of yourself. And congrats on graduating high school with top honors and getting accepted into UC Berkeley. Tore told me. He is quite the ridiculously proud father/brother, whatever adoptive relationship you two have decided to settle on. Practically our entire meeting was him gushing over you. A real waste of a visit.
Sincerely,
Renzo Iannelli
Dear Diary,
Aw, you don’t mean that. But thank you, and congrats yourself! I called Persetta on your behalf. Did you know she prefers to be called Tessa?
Tore, Vinny, and I also did a toast in your honor, the proud uncle, even though they tried to change my prosecco out for bubbly juice several times. I should have let them. Gotta tell you, I’m not the biggest fan of prosecco.
And it’s adoptive brother. Definitely brother. Father, yuck. Nope, can’t. Even the kids can’t.
By the way, I’m on the fast track for our bet. I got fifty-eight college credits transferred out of the one hundred twenty needed for a bachelor’s degree. If I maintain an average of sixteencredits per semester, I’ll make it in two years. Prepare to lose, sucker!!!
