Chapter 17: Tidying Things Up

I felt reenergized with Marianna and the girls moving in. I wasn’t surprised at Mama Alvarez, who wrapped me in a bear hug and made sure I understood just how happy she was. But Papa and the boys were just as happy too. They knew how close we had been and how upset I was when she left. They also pined for their daughter, thousands of miles away in a foreign land with little communication. The Alvarez’s were a tight family and Marianna had been an important part of that bond. Now she was back and the family was intact once more.

Marianna was using the Internet to look for work and had come up with a number of contacts. She had wisely purchased a reasonably new compact car. To help out, I installed a car seat for Nicole and a booster seat for Anna Marie. Both were required by law, but I wouldn’t want the two little darlings to be in any danger in any way. They had settled into living in my home and seemed quite happy to be there. Of course, there were regular visits to and from the grandparents.

I think the event that had the biggest impact on me was my discovery that the girls had found some friends of their age in the neighborhood. They had playmates, and that did something to me that I hadn’t expected. I wanted this to be permanent. I can’t describe the feeling that went through me when Anna Marie told us about her new friends that she was playing with. And even the usually quiet Nicole was desperately trying to let me know she had a new pair of friends too. She’d discovered a pair of twins boys who lived across the street and down by the corner of our block.

I was originally worried about Nicole and her natural silence. She didn’t make strange around me, but she wasn’t very vocal. I wondered if she suffered from some kind of problem, but the day she discovered some kids of her own age she became “Chatty Cathy.” There was nothing wrong with her voice and her sentences were mostly understandable, although simple. I had no experience with little girls, so everything was new to me. I think I became the main source of entertainment for Marianne. She seemed to get a special kick out of my interaction with her daughters, laughing both at their antics and my own.

Marianna and I were slowly working our way back to having a comfortable relationship with each other. I still harbored some hurt from her abrupt departure years ago, but I guess I’d grown up since then and realized that neither of us was really mature at that age. We hadn’t experienced life as an adult and weren’t ready for commitment or conflict. Now, six years later, I realized that and began to think that perhaps our lives began when Marianna returned from Italy and we had a chance to learn who we were all over again.

I was determined to give Marianna her space. She needed to get settled back here in the Sonoma Valley and find a job. I’d at least temporarily solved the living space for her and the girls, but the divorce from her soon-to-be ex-husband still lingered in the background, along with finding the right kind of employment that would fit her acclaimed talent. I was not going to rush her into renewing the personal relationship we once had, but the signs were there that it could happen.

I did manage to talk her into visiting with John and Mitzi one Sunday afternoon. John was much more outgoing than Marianna remembered him and she congratulated Mitzi and John on their marriage. They both had great jobs and were moonlighting on the weekends in various jazz and adult dance venues. Marianna mentioned more than once about John’s change from when she knew him and how well suited he and Mitzi were together. We didn’t see each other often, but we extended an invitation to them to come to Healdsburg one weekend of their choice.

Six weeks after Marianna and the girls moved in, we had a visit we did not expect. I answered the door bell and saw two dark suited men standing before me.

“I’m FBI Special Agent Carlson, and this is Special Agent Swaggert. Are you Nicholas Minter?”

“Uh ... yes, Sir. What can I do for you?” I wondered, completely surprised by a visit from the FBI.

“We understand Ms. Marianna Alvarez lives here. Is that correct?”

“Uh ... yes, she does.” I was getting a bad feeling about this visit.

“May we come in? Is Ms. Alvarez present?” Agent Carlson asked.

“No, but I expect her shortly. What’s this about?” I asked.

“We’d prefer to discuss that first with Ms. Alvarez. Are you the landlord for this home?”

“No ... I own this home. Ms. Alvarez and her two children reside here. We are personal friends from back in our college days,” I explained.

Carlson nodded. “So we understand. I imagine you are familiar with Ms. Alvarez’s departure from Italy?”

“Oh yes, I’m well aware. Is that what this is about?”

“Indirectly, but why don’t we wait for Ms. Alvarez to return and we can explain fully what this is about,” Carlson suggested.

“Sure ... uh ... can I get you some coffee. I just made a fresh pot,” I offered.

Carlson looked at Swaggert and nodded. “Thank you, that would be nice.”

I went through the usual questions about cream and sugar before heading to the kitchen to prepare two more mugs.

“I assume you are from the San Francisco office,” I said as I returned with their coffee.

“That’s right,” Swaggert confirmed, speaking for the first time.

“Is Ms. Alvarez in trouble?” I asked, unable to resist the question.

“No, not that we’re aware of,” Carlson said.

“Oh ... okay ... that’s a relief. She’s had a rough time of it and is just now settling down to a normal life,” I explained.

Swaggert nodded, “I imagine that’s so. I’m aware of her talent with the guitar and she really is very gifted. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

I felt myself relax when there didn’t seem to be any trouble attached to this visit for Marianna. A couple of minutes later, the front door opened and Marianna and the two girls came in, carrying grocery bags.

I rose to greet her and she looked at our visitors before greeting me. “I see we have visitors.”

“Yes. These gentlemen are with the FBI and want to talk to you. They assure me that you are not in trouble,” I said quickly, hoping to quell any alarm on Marianna’s part.

“Oh ... I didn’t expect ... I mean ... let me deal with these bags and I’ll be right with you,” she said to the two men. Anna Marie and Nicole had looked at the two men, decided that they weren’t that interesting and headed for the stairs to their rooms.

“So,” Marianna began as she returned to the living room, “what brings the FBI out to see me?” she asked.

“We have some questions about your husband’s activities when you were living with him in Florence,” Carlson said.

“I’m not sure what you mean by activities. He was my manager and arranged my bookings and looked after our finances, much to my regret,” she said.

“Did you have access to the income from your bookings while living in Italy?” Carlson asked.

“Not really. I had access to household money and some extras, but Roberto was very secretive about where my earnings went. When I confronted him about it, he tried to tell me that it was going into investments, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to show me a statement of those investments. All I ever saw was a number of bank transfers to an unnamed account shortly after my earnings were deposited in the local bank in Firenze ... Florence.”