pink as those peonies
she so adored in Leona’s garden.
I want to smash my goblet.
I want to harden to glass
and shatter upon the floor.
Does no one else see
this display of indiscretion?
I search the table.
Uncle stuffs his mouth.
Marino reads a pamphlet,
and Paolo distracts himself
with something beyond
the windowpane.
But Mother
grins a wide smile
like a self-satisfied cat
after it snares a rabbit.
Mother has seen what I witnessed,
and she nods
in approval.
MOTHER’S PLAN
Mother calls Giovanna and me
to her chambers.
“As we know, your father decreed
that Maria should marry a nobleman,
and that shall gladly be Signore Bembo,
but your father said nothing of what
was to become of Giovanna.”
She motions for us to kneel down
before her as if she were the cardinal.
“I feel it would be a great disservice
to Giovanna and this family to send her
to the convent as is the tradition
in most families. Yet we have not much
to offer in the way of a dowry for Vanna.
One suitor, however, may be willing
to acquire a somewhat unconventional dowry.
And he appears already to fancy you,
Giovanna.”
I know what Mother is going to say,
but I clasp my hands to the Virgin Mother
in prayer that Mother’s words be pulled back.
“Luca wishes to own the second fornica
outright. He could be given it as a dowry,
and then as he is an orphan
with no living relations to speak of
it would actually remain in our family.”
Giovanna’s face sinks like silt
to the ocean floor.
“But Mother—”
she begins her protest.
Mother raises her hand.
“No, my mind is firm.
Uncle Giova and your brothers agree.”
I barely balance on my knees.
I feel as though my legs will be
swallowed into the floor
surely as my heart.
Mother turns now only to Giovanna.
“We do not propose this plan to Luca yet
but would give him time to grow in fondness
for you, Giovanna. Do you understand?”
Vanna closes her eyes, then tosses back
her mane. I want to rip the golden locks
from her head for the first time.
She nods. “Yes, Mother. I shall do my best.”
CONFLICT
“Maria, why do you mope so?”
Vanna fixes me
with a raised eyebrow.
Her hands are dirty
from preparing a batch
to be made into glass,
but still not one of her hairs
falls out of place.
“You were to brush your hair
and put on your blue gown.”
She touches my cheek
and I coil away.
“Have you been crying?”
“Oh, bite an asp, Vanna!
What do you know?
I am not going to the Bembo palazzo.”
“You are so!” Her pretty little
voice loud as cathedral bells now.
“Why, are you so eager to marry Luca?
Well, it seems you can choose
a husband, dearest sister.
Andrea Bembo or Luca.
Everyone’s eyes, all for you.”
My voice that began as a storm
siphons down to a trickle
as the tears begin to fall.
Giovanna drapes her arm
over my shoulders, her voice
quiet again. “Sister, you are wrong.
The devil himself
is more correct in his thinking.
Andrea will be your betrothed.
He cannot have eyes for me.
Sometimes … Oh, never you mind.”
I want to stop sniffling
in front of her,
but I can’t.
She exhales with exhaust. “And Luca,
he orders me and demands
pincers and jacks, and the batch
is never pure enough.
He never looks me in the eye.
He has no manners.
It is as if he has surmised Mother’s plan
and rebels against it. It is as though
he wishes for me to dislike him.
And then today he asked again
and again after you until I wished
to throw the blocks at him.”
I smile. I cannot stop myself.
“This pleases you.
That I am going to fail my family.
You are a funny girl,”
Vanna says, as she helps me into my dress.
A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
I can barely huff out my sentences.
“I don’t want you to fail.
Well, I suppose that I do.
But really it is just
that I don’t want you to succeed
with Luca. Did Luca really
ask after me?” I say to Vanna,
and tug at my corset strings.
“I
she so adored in Leona’s garden.
I want to smash my goblet.
I want to harden to glass
and shatter upon the floor.
Does no one else see
this display of indiscretion?
I search the table.
Uncle stuffs his mouth.
Marino reads a pamphlet,
and Paolo distracts himself
with something beyond
the windowpane.
But Mother
grins a wide smile
like a self-satisfied cat
after it snares a rabbit.
Mother has seen what I witnessed,
and she nods
in approval.
MOTHER’S PLAN
Mother calls Giovanna and me
to her chambers.
“As we know, your father decreed
that Maria should marry a nobleman,
and that shall gladly be Signore Bembo,
but your father said nothing of what
was to become of Giovanna.”
She motions for us to kneel down
before her as if she were the cardinal.
“I feel it would be a great disservice
to Giovanna and this family to send her
to the convent as is the tradition
in most families. Yet we have not much
to offer in the way of a dowry for Vanna.
One suitor, however, may be willing
to acquire a somewhat unconventional dowry.
And he appears already to fancy you,
Giovanna.”
I know what Mother is going to say,
but I clasp my hands to the Virgin Mother
in prayer that Mother’s words be pulled back.
“Luca wishes to own the second fornica
outright. He could be given it as a dowry,
and then as he is an orphan
with no living relations to speak of
it would actually remain in our family.”
Giovanna’s face sinks like silt
to the ocean floor.
“But Mother—”
she begins her protest.
Mother raises her hand.
“No, my mind is firm.
Uncle Giova and your brothers agree.”
I barely balance on my knees.
I feel as though my legs will be
swallowed into the floor
surely as my heart.
Mother turns now only to Giovanna.
“We do not propose this plan to Luca yet
but would give him time to grow in fondness
for you, Giovanna. Do you understand?”
Vanna closes her eyes, then tosses back
her mane. I want to rip the golden locks
from her head for the first time.
She nods. “Yes, Mother. I shall do my best.”
CONFLICT
“Maria, why do you mope so?”
Vanna fixes me
with a raised eyebrow.
Her hands are dirty
from preparing a batch
to be made into glass,
but still not one of her hairs
falls out of place.
“You were to brush your hair
and put on your blue gown.”
She touches my cheek
and I coil away.
“Have you been crying?”
“Oh, bite an asp, Vanna!
What do you know?
I am not going to the Bembo palazzo.”
“You are so!” Her pretty little
voice loud as cathedral bells now.
“Why, are you so eager to marry Luca?
Well, it seems you can choose
a husband, dearest sister.
Andrea Bembo or Luca.
Everyone’s eyes, all for you.”
My voice that began as a storm
siphons down to a trickle
as the tears begin to fall.
Giovanna drapes her arm
over my shoulders, her voice
quiet again. “Sister, you are wrong.
The devil himself
is more correct in his thinking.
Andrea will be your betrothed.
He cannot have eyes for me.
Sometimes … Oh, never you mind.”
I want to stop sniffling
in front of her,
but I can’t.
She exhales with exhaust. “And Luca,
he orders me and demands
pincers and jacks, and the batch
is never pure enough.
He never looks me in the eye.
He has no manners.
It is as if he has surmised Mother’s plan
and rebels against it. It is as though
he wishes for me to dislike him.
And then today he asked again
and again after you until I wished
to throw the blocks at him.”
I smile. I cannot stop myself.
“This pleases you.
That I am going to fail my family.
You are a funny girl,”
Vanna says, as she helps me into my dress.
A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
I can barely huff out my sentences.
“I don’t want you to fail.
Well, I suppose that I do.
But really it is just
that I don’t want you to succeed
with Luca. Did Luca really
ask after me?” I say to Vanna,
and tug at my corset strings.
“I
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