New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [364]
What also astonished him was how quickly Teresa’s family seemed to take Angelo over. It was decided that he would move out to Long Island straight away. They would set him up with a little house-painting business. But as well as this, he was to design signs for the local businesses and undertake other decorative work. One thing was certain: with the family’s local connections, there would be plenty of commissions to start him off.
“I thought he didn’t like taking commissions,” he remarked to Uncle Luigi.
“Ah, but now he is to get married,” said his uncle. “He told me that when he was sick, he started to realize that he couldn’t rely on bricklaying to make a living. And he enjoyed those commissions he did more than he thought he would.” Uncle Luigi made a gesture with his hands. “It is necessary to adjust. A man has to accept responsibilities.”
But perhaps the thing that amazed Salvatore the most was the way that Angelo seemed to be taking charge of his bride. He had been living on Long Island only two weeks when he came back to the lodgings to fetch some things. On this occasion, Salvatore brought himself to speak to his brother. But when he remarked that Teresa might want to live in the city one day, Angelo just smiled and shook his head.
“No,” he said calmly, “she deceives herself about that. I’ll make her stay on Long Island.”
Salvatore could hardly believe it was his little brother speaking.
It took more time, but gradually after that he began to realize, even if it was hard to accept, that however humiliating it was, Teresa, her parents and Uncle Luigi had all been right.
It was his brother who had the talent. It was his brother who would be content to work with his head, and not with his hands. It was Angelo who would sit in an office, write letters, look after the accounts, while he, Salvatore, lived in the open air. Despite even the ten thousand dollars he now possessed, it was not he but Angelo who would become the businessman. Fate was cruel, but it was fate.
The wedding took place on the second Sunday in June, on Long Island. Understandably, Salvatore did not want to be best man, so Uncle Luigi had tactfully arranged for Giuseppe to perform that role. It was certainly a big affair. The Carusos had invited a few friends from the city, but Teresa’s family had summoned half the people in the area—an impressive display of their importance in the community.
The ceremony could not be without pain for Salvatore. When he saw Teresa, and how lovely she looked, his heart missed a beat. And as he gazed at her, suddenly smitten by an anguish of love, he asked himself: How could this have happened?
As for his little brother, when he first saw him, just for a moment, he didn’t recognize him. Angelo’s hair had been cut short, and he’d grown a mustache. His face, thinner than those of his brothers, no longer looked delicate but fine, manly and strikingly handsome. When he came to greet Salvatore, he seemed to move with the grace and confidence of a dancer.
And once again, with force, but with awful justice, it struck him that Teresa and her family had shown their wisdom. They had picked the one person in the family who was out of the ordinary, the one who had the capacity to grow. And, in their own humble way, they were going to help him succeed. He felt jealous, but he recognized the truth for what it was.
“I am so proud of you,” he whispered to Angelo as he embraced him. And he meant it.
Following the wedding Mass, they all walked back to Teresa’s family’s house. This being an Italian wedding, the best man was waiting at the door of the house, with a huge tray of drinks, so that everyone could toast the bride and groom. After that, they walked past the table where their mothers were sitting just behind the women helpers who were recording the presents people brought.
Of course, the family had already given gifts to the couple. Teresa’s extended family had showered them with gifts, and although Angelo’s family could not quite keep up with this, their honor was preserved