Big Cherry Holler - Adriana Trigiani [59]
April 29, 1980
Dear Ave,
I know that the world is filled with lucky men. And I know that because I have met a few. And all the lucky men have one thing in common. They have a good woman who loves them. I know you worried all your life if you were pretty enough, and I hope to tell you that pretty doesn’t begin to describe you. I see more in you when you’re sleeping than you could ever imagine. They say your soul comes out when you sleep and, for you, this is true. When your eyes are closed, your eyelashes lie against your cheeks and you purse your lips in a way that makes you look like you’re smiling. You’re a peaceful girl, my Ave. And that’s what I found in you. Peace. I am the luckiest man in the world. I love you. J.
I take the book and put it on Jack’s nightstand with a pen. Maybe if he looks at what he’s written to me, it will remind him that there is a lot here worth fighting for.
June, the month of Our Big Trip home to Italy could not come fast enough. Now that it’s here, I am filled with hope again. I want to be with my husband in a romantic place where we can be together, talk, and laugh, where no one knows us. All winter the mountains felt as if they were closing in on us. Jack has spent most of the spring working overtime. There’s been very little rain, so he and Mousey and Rick have been working long hours. Construction is all about the weather.
I remember the clothes Jack took to Italy on our honeymoon, and I try to copy the contents this go-round. I’ve asked him a few questions here and there about what he wants me to bring for him, and he just says, “You decide.” So I pack for him.
The night before we’re set to fly out of Tri-Cities, en route to Kennedy Airport in New York and then to Milan, I check on Etta. She had been too excited to sleep, so I allowed her to keep the nightstand light on and read. It worked. As I pull Beverly Cleary’s Fifteen out of her grasp and shove the bookmark into place, she turns over and hugs her pillow without opening her eyes. I give her a quick kiss on the forehead. Her bags are packed neatly and waiting in a row by the door. I can’t wait to see her face when she sees Schilpario for the first time.
I hear Jack park the truck in the side yard. I am looking forward to the long airplane ride. Etta can sleep, and Jack and I will finally get a chance to talk, to catch up. Our happiest memories together are of our honeymoon, and now we’ll get to relive all of that.
I meet Jack in the hallway as he shuffles through the mail. I wrap my arms around him from behind.
“How was your day?” I ask him.
“Rough.”
“I bought you new socks.”
“Why?”
“Your old ones were too shabby for Italy.”
Jack starts to move, so I let go of him. He puts his arm around me and moves toward the kitchen.
“And by the way, these aren’t the socks that come in a pack. They’re the good kind that hang on the rack on the little plastic hangers at Dave’s Department Store. Nothing but the best for my husband.”
“I want to talk to you.” He sits down at the kitchen table. I sit across from him.
“What’s up?” I say cheerily. I can be cheery. Tomorrow we’ll be in Italy.
“I’m not going.”
“Why?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me. “Is it work? Are you behind on a job?”
“No. We’re okay.”
“Then what is it?”
“I think we need time apart.” Jack leans back in his chair and looks at me intently. His gaze makes me uncomfortable, and I look away.
“Why?”
“I think you know why.”
The rumors around town? The long silences in our own bedroom? The way we bury ourselves in work, emerging only to take care of Etta?
“I don’t know what you mean.” Let him explain this. I am tired of filling in blanks.
“I don’t think you want to be married to me anymore.”
“That’s not true! Not at all.”
Jack gets up and turns on the tap. He pours himself a glass of water and drinks