until he’s gone.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Yes, I would. No woman should marry a man she doesn’t love. Not ever.” I give her a hug, which I haven’t done since I was small. I go to my bed and get in it, giving Roma another nudge. She rolls over close to the wall.
Assunta’s tears soon give way to the gentle breathing of sleep. I lie on my back, surveying the ceiling of this room as I have for so many nights when sleep won’t come. Even though Assunta is bossy and mean, deep down I know I will miss her when she marries Alessandro Pagano. After all, we’ve been a family all these years, and she was a big part of us. Often she was the big heaving angry part of us, but part of us nonetheless. I hope Alessandro is a good man. And I hope she’ll have the strength to create a new family for herself, one where she’ll be happy, if happiness is even in the cards for Assunta Castelluca. I make the sign of the cross and turn my plea into a quick prayer. Chettie would be pleased.
“They’re laughing and talking!” Dianna runs into the parlor the next morning. “He’s taller than Papa!” I look out the window and see Papa walking down the lane with Alessandro Pagano, who looks exactly like his picture. Assunta, wearing a simple white linen sheath and Mama’s sapphire locket, looks lovely standing in the kitchen doorway. Her shiny black hair hangs straight to her waist. She exhales a sigh of relief.
“Assunta, go upstairs,” Mama directs.
“But Mama …”
“Go.” Assunta goes upstairs. “There is a proper way to be introduced. It’s not right for a lady to wait for a man. He waits for her.”
Dianna and I look at each other. Is Mama kidding? Alessandro has waited all these years, and now we’re going to make him wait even longer?
Papa opens the door and shows Alessandro into our house.
“Mr. Pagano, this is my wife, Mrs. Castelluca.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” he says slowly, then gives Mama a package out of his satchel. “This is from your sister Elena.” Tears spring to Mama’s eyes as she sits and opens the package, a stack of small lace doilies.
“Now, now, Celeste, stop the tears. Mr. Pagano has come a far distance and he’s hungry,” Papa says softly to Mama. Papa knows better than anyone how much Mama misses her family in Italy, so he is extra kind to her whenever they are mentioned.
“Shall I go and get Assunta?” I ask Mama.
“Not yet.” Mama shoots me a look like she’d take a switch to me if she could.
“Come, Alessandro, first we have supper, and then you’ll meet our beautiful Assunta.”
In what seems like the longest midday supper in history, Mama offers Alessandro every delicacy she knows how to make. Elena and I serve him as though he is a duke. He has fine table manners, and after the long journey he has quite an appetite. He eats orange slices dressedin olive oil and pepper, shavings of Parmesan cheese with prosciutto, a salad of black olives and dandelion, a soup of tortellini in a chicken broth, sliced ham in fresh bread with butter, and all the wine he can drink.
I think he’s handsome. His face is angular, with a large nose and full lips. He has jet-black hair combed with a neat side part. His ears are big but close to his head. His neck and shoulders are strong. His hands, big and calloused, are like Papa’s; the nails are trimmed and neat, though. Evidently Assunta wasn’t the only one gussying up to impress her intended.
Elena motions for me to fetch water from the well with her, while Mama laughs with Alessandro at news he shares from Italy.
“What do you think?” I ask Elena.
“He’s good-looking enough. She’ll like him,” Elena says practically.
“He seems quiet.”
“That’s fine. You know she’ll do all the talking anyway.” Elena pumps water into a bucket. “I think they’ll be a good match. She’ll be able to boss him around and he won’t even notice it. I hope he makes enough money for her. He’ll be
“You’d do that for me?”
“Yes, I would. No woman should marry a man she doesn’t love. Not ever.” I give her a hug, which I haven’t done since I was small. I go to my bed and get in it, giving Roma another nudge. She rolls over close to the wall.
Assunta’s tears soon give way to the gentle breathing of sleep. I lie on my back, surveying the ceiling of this room as I have for so many nights when sleep won’t come. Even though Assunta is bossy and mean, deep down I know I will miss her when she marries Alessandro Pagano. After all, we’ve been a family all these years, and she was a big part of us. Often she was the big heaving angry part of us, but part of us nonetheless. I hope Alessandro is a good man. And I hope she’ll have the strength to create a new family for herself, one where she’ll be happy, if happiness is even in the cards for Assunta Castelluca. I make the sign of the cross and turn my plea into a quick prayer. Chettie would be pleased.
“They’re laughing and talking!” Dianna runs into the parlor the next morning. “He’s taller than Papa!” I look out the window and see Papa walking down the lane with Alessandro Pagano, who looks exactly like his picture. Assunta, wearing a simple white linen sheath and Mama’s sapphire locket, looks lovely standing in the kitchen doorway. Her shiny black hair hangs straight to her waist. She exhales a sigh of relief.
“Assunta, go upstairs,” Mama directs.
“But Mama …”
“Go.” Assunta goes upstairs. “There is a proper way to be introduced. It’s not right for a lady to wait for a man. He waits for her.”
Dianna and I look at each other. Is Mama kidding? Alessandro has waited all these years, and now we’re going to make him wait even longer?
Papa opens the door and shows Alessandro into our house.
“Mr. Pagano, this is my wife, Mrs. Castelluca.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” he says slowly, then gives Mama a package out of his satchel. “This is from your sister Elena.” Tears spring to Mama’s eyes as she sits and opens the package, a stack of small lace doilies.
“Now, now, Celeste, stop the tears. Mr. Pagano has come a far distance and he’s hungry,” Papa says softly to Mama. Papa knows better than anyone how much Mama misses her family in Italy, so he is extra kind to her whenever they are mentioned.
“Shall I go and get Assunta?” I ask Mama.
“Not yet.” Mama shoots me a look like she’d take a switch to me if she could.
“Come, Alessandro, first we have supper, and then you’ll meet our beautiful Assunta.”
In what seems like the longest midday supper in history, Mama offers Alessandro every delicacy she knows how to make. Elena and I serve him as though he is a duke. He has fine table manners, and after the long journey he has quite an appetite. He eats orange slices dressedin olive oil and pepper, shavings of Parmesan cheese with prosciutto, a salad of black olives and dandelion, a soup of tortellini in a chicken broth, sliced ham in fresh bread with butter, and all the wine he can drink.
I think he’s handsome. His face is angular, with a large nose and full lips. He has jet-black hair combed with a neat side part. His ears are big but close to his head. His neck and shoulders are strong. His hands, big and calloused, are like Papa’s; the nails are trimmed and neat, though. Evidently Assunta wasn’t the only one gussying up to impress her intended.
Elena motions for me to fetch water from the well with her, while Mama laughs with Alessandro at news he shares from Italy.
“What do you think?” I ask Elena.
“He’s good-looking enough. She’ll like him,” Elena says practically.
“He seems quiet.”
“That’s fine. You know she’ll do all the talking anyway.” Elena pumps water into a bucket. “I think they’ll be a good match. She’ll be able to boss him around and he won’t even notice it. I hope he makes enough money for her. He’ll be
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