Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [56]
“He said you delivered two of the children.”
“I did.”
“What do you know about this family?”
“She was a good woman. He’s a good man, hardworking, simple, but good.”
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“There isn’t much more to tell.” There was a pause, before Lucrezia continued. “Are you considering this?”
“Of course not.”
“Why not?”
Giovanna looked at Lucrezia in shock.
“You told me you wanted children. You wanted to bring your own babies into this world.”
“Yes, but not with just anyone!”
“Giovanna, do you believe you will ever love someone as you loved Nunzio?”
“I will never find another Nunzio. There is not another Nunzio,” answered Giovanna indignantly.
“That’s my point. If you want children, you only need to find a good man. And I don’t need to remind you that at thirty-one, in all probability it will not be a young man without children.”
“I don’t believe you’re encouraging me to do this!”
“I am not. I’m simply reviewing the facts and stripping the situation of your brother and sister-in-law’s deceit so you can see it for what it is—an option. You can choose not to take this option, but you should not dismiss it out of anger.”
While she recognized the wisdom in Lucrezia’s words, she had a fiery confrontation with Lorenzo when she returned home.
“You are too young to be a widow! It is my job to take care of you!” Lorenzo yelled.
“Taking care of me is getting rid of me?”
“I want you to be happy, but you are as stubborn as a mule. If I had told you about this meeting, you would have never agreed to it!”
“Exactly.”
“Yes, exactly. Please, Giovanna, you could live with me forever, but will that be living? I heard your promise at Nunzio’s grave.”
Giovanna looked at Teresa cowering in the back room. She wasn’t so sure about the living with him forever part, but at that moment she started to forgive her brother.
FIFTEEN
Her prayers for Signora Russo were unanswered. The next Sunday, Giovanna dressed for her walk with Rocco. Teresa tried to encourage her not to wear black, and even offered her Sunday feathered hat, but Giovanna dismissed Teresa with an angry look. For an entire week there had been no banging pots or heavy sighs; Teresa practically tiptoed around her sister-in-law. While Giovanna had forgiven her brother, she had not forgiven Teresa. In actuality, Giovanna was grateful that Teresa had given her a solid reason to stop trying to be her friend.
“What do you think of him, Zia?” Domenico asked Giovanna, who was lacing her shoes. Not waiting for her reply, Domenico offered, “I like his son. The little girl is spoiled though.”
Giovanna was amused at Domenico’s tone of camaraderie and chose to play along. “The children should be in school. And you need not fault the little one. She never had a mother, and people try and make up for that.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
“No, Domenico. I am going for a walk.”
Giovanna asked Signore Siena if they could walk to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was her way of bringing Nunzio along. She made no attempt to shorten her strides as she often did when walking with other people and was impressed that the signore kept pace. Giovanna asked Rocco what he missed about Scilla. He replied, “L’America is my home.” Rocco was in the “love it” group and, having pledged his loyalty to America, he did not allow himself sentimental thoughts of the home he left behind.
With Giovanna’s occasional question and Signore Siena’s one-word answers, Giovanna had plenty of time to assess the signore’s appearance. His clothes were clean, without holes, and made of good cloth. He was dark, and even the graying of his thick black hair did not soften his rough appearance. While there was no grace to him, he was respectful and politely nodded to people he knew along the way.
When they reached the Brooklyn Bridge, they rested on a bench. Giovanna asked him what he thought.
“What do I think of what?”
“The bridge.”
“It’s a bridge. It’s a big bridge.”
Perversely, Giovanna was pleased. There could be no mistaking this man for Nunzio.
Rocco seemed to be trying to say something, because