The Queen of the Big Time by Adriana Trigiani

both families stronger. Even Chettie’s parents were arranged. Mama and Papa fell in love on their own, but Papa soon won Mama’s family over. Mama never wanted the farm life, but she took it on because she loves Papa.
    Yesterday, Papa took the train to Philadelphia to pick up Alessandro. Assunta has stayed behind with us, to make sure all final details are tended to. Mama has been working so hard she fell asleep at the kitchen table right after she finished putting lace on the nightgown for Assunta’s wedding trousseau.
    “Mama?” I gently shake her. “Mama, you fell asleep. Go to bed,” I tell her.
    “Did you sweep the walk?” she asks groggily.
    “Everything is done,” I promise her.
    Mama gets up slowly and climbs the stairs to her room. I put out the lights and follow her. When I get to my room, I change into my nightgown in the dark, so as not to wake the girls. They are as exhausted as Mama, and soon it will be morning and there will be more chores. Assunta’s room will become Alessandro’s, so she is bunking with us. All five of us in one room. It reminds me of the cold winters when we would huddle together to stay warm, only now we come together for a different reason.
    I climb into my bed next to Roma, whom I nudge closer to the wallto make room for me. I lie on my back and feel every muscle and bone in my body ache. Besides making the house ready, we did all of Papa’s chores this morning. I marvel at how hard he works. I don’t know how he does it, day in and day out, and then has the ambition to work in the quarry. I guess he loves us so much he would do anything to give us what we need. I wonder if I’ll ever love anyone that much.
    I turn to go to sleep and hear Assunta sniffling. Soon the sniffles give way to quiet weeping. At first I lie in the dark and listen, not saying anything.
    “Assunta?” I finally whisper. “Are you all right?”
    She doesn’t answer.
    “Assunta?” I get up out of the bed and kneel next to her. “Are you sick?”
    She shakes her head.
    “What is it then?”
    Assunta twists the sleeve of her nightgown over her fist and wipes her eyes. “I’m scared.”
    “Scared? Of what?” But somehow I already know the answer. She’s afraid to leave home, Mama and Papa and even us, though we irritate her. She’s afraid that when she sees Alessandro for the first time, she won’t like him and then everyone in both families will be sorely disappointed.
    “What if he doesn’t like me?”
    I didn’t even think of that! She’s worried he won’t like her? I’ve known my sister all my life, but oh, how she surprises me. “I wouldn’t worry. He’s seen your picture and written to you.”
    “But a picture isn’t real.”
    “Sure it is. You can tell a lot by a picture.” Of course, I won’t tell her that Elena and I have examined Alessandro’s picture a million times and we can’t tell if he’s tall or short. You never know if the photographers put a large vase or a small vase on the table next to the chair where they take the picture. His stature could be an optical illusion.
    “Don’t worry. He’ll like you,” I promise her.
    “Why?”
    “Well, you are very determined,” I begin. It takes me a moment to compliment her, as I am so used to complaining about her. But I think very hard. “And you have lovely long hair. It’s as black as night, Mama always says. And you have pretty eyes and your feet aren’t too big for your height.”
    “Thanks,” she says softly. “It’s just … I thought I’d be happy when he came. But now I wish he’d turn around and go home.”
    “No you don’t.”
    “No, really I do. I don’t know him.” Assunta begins to weep again.
    “If you don’t like him, you don’t have to marry him. Mama said so.”
    “She doesn’t mean it.” Assunta sobs.
    “She means it. And I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like him, you tell me and I’ll tell Mama and Papa and I’ll lock you in this room and I won’t let you out