FYI this chapter is very pensive, a lot less dialogue. It is a different approach, but it goes through trains of thought that lead to important conversations (in English). Thank you for the reviews, especially for noticing my slip up. I shall not happen again. I cross my 3. I hope the story comes to exceed your expectations!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Clan.

Capitolo 3

Something must be wrong. That is the only logical explanation that his brother, Joe Hardy had not been in touch with him. Yes, there was a small falling out about the most frivolous of things, but he did not deserve to be gutted out of his younger brother's life.

I was so proud of him choosing to study abroad for his first year of college. It was something that I wanted to do, but I put it on the back burner for the perfect semester. Joe was absolutely ecstatic to be in Italy, the country of young love he called it. Mr. Casanova chose to study Italian because it was completely different and believed he would even attract more women.

Honestly, I laughed at his train of thought. My parents had no problem with that or him requesting to stay there for the summer because he got offered a once in-a-life-time opportunity to work. So it was just surprising that he would be across the ocean instead of a few hours away. I got thrown off that contacting him was a task inside itself. There was the time difference, our different availabilities, and inconstant way to communicate.

I thoroughly enjoyed my first year in college and desired Joe to have the same enthralling experience. A rift began forming when I was offended that he didn't take into consideration what I was planning on doing during the summer. I wanted to come home and spend time with him and the family, work a few cases, and go for a local internship.

Only after he dropped the bomb of his choice to continue residing in Italy for the duration of the summer break, I blew a fuse. At that point, he got funding for it and our parents' okay, so it was definitely happening. As I recalled, it was only a suggestion when he had last talked to me about the prospect of working in Europe over the summer.

I had called him a few things like an inconsiderate brother, which dropped communication right away. For a while we avoided each other, and then we each got wrapped up in our own lives, so calling attempts were fewer as the weeks progressed. The line was blurred between reality and excuses for the problems we had with frequently, if at all, communicating.

Bitter, lonely, and remorseful I felt when I unpacked my suitcase when I returned home in the summer. I had gotten out a week later than Joe. In that week he had already moved and began his researching job in Italy. Honestly, I knew nothing much about it and Joe never told me anything. My parents decided this was a brotherly quarrel that they were not going to get involved in.

I was left to commute to my internship at a local law firm. My dad and he were old friends. It helped that me and my brother had a growing reputation for putting criminals in their place. While I did mundane office work, my brother was gallivanting around another country doing who knows what.

Clarification- Joe and I did speak on occasion. It was simple stuff such as the weather, sports, our parents, high school friends, and cases we ran into. Nothing too personal was shared, which seemed quite out of place. That became our regular conversation leading to sudden recollection of a previous engagement or the requirement to return to our studies.

I found it odd that I had heard nothing in three weeks. We would speak every week at least once. Alarm bells did go off in the second week, but I thought maybe we kept missing one another and he was overwhelmed. As Wednesday had come and gone, Thursday I began drilling my parents for a little more information on my brother's stay in Italy.

Coming down early for breakfast, I chose to first interrogate my mother. "Mom, where's the mugs?"

"Oh, They're still in top rack of dishwasher, haven't put them away yet," she replied, seeming surprised at her elder son's arrival. He dried it out and poured coffee in it before relaxing at the counter.

"Anything from him today?" I went to the point without hesitation; there are times to not beat around the bush.

"Nothing," saying this made her withdrawal more, as though she was worried about her younger son.

It was acceptable to not reach him, but at least keep in touch with mom. She doesn't need to worry. Determined to call in some accounts of his current behavior, I chose to dig for more information. It would need to be in the correct tone so that she would not clam up. "He's probably just busy, being over worked as a young useful hand like I am labeled at the firm."

"Yes, but usually he has the decency to call me or send some type of identification that he is alive and well. So far there has been nothing," she paused and looked up from the sizzling scrambled eggs, "Frank that frightens me."

In her eyes all that could be seen was terror. Fear of situations that could have occurred played out in their minds. Deeply concentrating in their own worries, neither of us heard the entrance of my father. He was like the lion stalking the gazelle, yet he was observing his family in order to help them, not eat them.

"Honey, I'm sure Joe is fine. He is a nineteen year old young man. He can take care of himself on occasion. Once we find out the reason for neglecting the use of a telephone you can lecture him about chasing Italian women, learning how to use technology, and not to over extend himself with work obligations," my father advised his wife and returned the smile she gave him. "Now let me talk to Frank and you can finish breakfast without interruption."

The older version of myself gently placed an arm around my shoulders, steering me towards his office. As soon as I sat down and he closed the door I asked, "So dad what is it?"

"Well," he began as he made his way to the desk and grabbed a seat. "You're not the only one worried about finding your brother's inexplicable reasons for not keeping touch."

Breathing a sigh of relief I took a good look at my father. He looked extremely aged with bags under his eyes. The rest of his features mirrored deep concern. We each had an understanding for the trouble Joe was bound to get into by doing the most trivial things. Maybe that is why I was terrified of my brother living without me in another country. My overprotective gene was kicking in and it was saying something was amiss.

The silence was not uncomfortable before my dad spoke again. We were each getting together our own thoughts. "Son, this week I have been doing a bit more research on what your brother had signed up for. Never mind what we made you believe, he only disclosed the important details of opportunity to your mother and I. Honestly, we were hoping he would share more with you, so we pushed you two back together."

"Thanks dad. I do appreciate it. I think I was also a bit upset with myself that I didn't even think Joe would want to do anything else than hang with me during the summer since lately we hadn't spent that much time with one another."

"I couldn't read Joe's mind, but I think he figured you would have a job planned for the summer out since you are going to be a junior and he didn't want to mess up your plan of action for the future." This got a chuckle from both of us. Joe had nicknamed it PAFF (Plan of Action For the Future) when we he saw it written on one of my papers one day.

"Yeah I guess if I look back now, the only logical thing to have done would have been to talk to each other about our feelings, I guess," I summarized.

"Well, now you know. It's hard thing to adjust being separated like you two were because you and your brother were always used to one another's companionship. I know it may have felt like you were missing a part of you. Frank, I am proud of both of you, especially the way you have taken charge of your lives. I'll stop the lecture, but I want you to know, it's not easy sharing feelings over the phone. You read the other's mind within seconds of a situation. The brotherly relationship is unique. In the future use that to your advantage." Ending his long speil, my dad leaned back in his chair and looked out the office window.

"Thanks dad that means a lot," I smiled and continued. "So what do you know about Joe?"

Laughing at his older son's dismissal of describing feelings about his brother's feelings without him nearby had touched a soft spot. Now he was more determined than ever to get a hold of him. "The program was a direct individual study with a professor well known for criminology. You know that he wanted to study criminology, but they school only had minor in law and society, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, he would be working one on one for most of the summer with this professor. Two months and then he'd come home in July," he paused, letting the new information sink in. "Yesterday I was quite anxious about Joe not calling or anything, so I got into contact with people that I could and finally left a message for someone in English. They should be returning my call soon. In their message it said they would return all calls by 5:30/6 am our time because it would be right before their lunch."

"Great! What did the people say that you did talk to? What else do you know about the program?"

"The person I got into contact with was his English advisor, who should call back. A woman gave me the general information that you can find online." My dad handed me some more papers concerning the various programs with the university.

My mom took that moment to knock on the door to announce breakfast was ready. My father and I held light conversation topics. We kind of booked it to the office to finish, after clearing our plates. As I continued overlooking the papers, the phone in the office blared.

He answered it and talked for a little bit. I noticed his face was growing graver by the minute. Finally he turned completely around so I couldn't gage his expressions. I read more into the program that apparently Joe signed up for. I took out a pen to make some notes and questions to ask my dad.

I was torn from my focus when my father slammed the phone down. Waiting for him to calm down I glanced over my notes. Then I looked up at the older version of myself who was angrily glaring at the computer.

"What is it?"

He let out a deep breath and told me as calmly as he could, "They do not have a Joseph Hardy on any records. He was never enrolled nor sent in an application to that program. So we have no idea where he is or what could have happened to him."