The Fortunate Pilgrim - Mario Puzo [96]
But now her day had come, as it comes even to saints. Sin and desire were stamped on her face. Flushed red, her breast rising and falling, she was bursting out of her skin. You could feel the heat coming off her, and her eyes, demurely cast down to her twitching lap, fooled no one.
What a stroke for Lucia Santa, and for her son with the ugliest face, though true, he was a magnificent young animal, as why shouldn’t he be, playing in the sun all day instead of working after school? What a blessing to the nuptial feast. Lucia Santa, eager as a wolf scenting blood, leaned forward to catch what the sly Santini spoke to her son, but the cursed music from the front room drowned those words she lusted to hear.
And now this saturnine Piero in oily Italian inquired after Gino, “So, young man, what do you do, what do you plan for your life, eh, still at school?” But strangely enough this young man regarded him with grave eyes as if he did not understand good Italian. Then he gave a little smile, and Piero understood: the lad was overcome by this attention from majesty and too shy to answer. To put him at his ease and get nearer the subject, Piero clapped Gino on the shoulder and said, “My dear daughter is dying of thirst. Bring her a glass of cream soda like a good chap. Caterina, isn’t it true, you’re dying of thirst?”
Caterina did not raise her eyes. She was terrified at what was happening to her. She nodded her head.
Gino caught the word “soda” and the girl’s nod. He rose to serve her. He understood nothing of what was happening, and how could he, since these people did not exist. When he brought the soda, he turned away quickly and did not see Piero Santini pat the chair again. Piero Santini, astounded at this insult, grimaced and shrugged his shoulders for all to see, as if to ask, “With such ill-mannered starving wretches, what use to show a kindly courtesy?” Everyone snickered at the humiliation of the proud close-fisted rich Santini and sighed for his poor daughter, who dipped her red unpowdered nose into a fizzing cream soda, mortified. And it was like a play to see the look of rage on Lucia Santa’s face at the behavior of her son Gino, who everyone knew was as mad as his father and would end up in the same fashion, and wasn’t this the proof?
It was at the end of this comedy that the beautiful Angelina appeared and made her farewells; and, to the astonishment of all, Gino made his second conquest. The second was more logical than the first. For one thing, Gino was the only male who did not see Angelina when he looked at her, and this immediately demanded her interest. Then, too, she sensed the general disapproval of the role she played, and in defiance she played it to the hilt. She caught hold of Gino, swayed toward him, and said to Lucia Santa, “What handsome sons you have.” And Gino was shocked awake; he smelled her perfume, felt the warmth of her arm, saw those wide, perfectly painted lips pouted up at him. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was perfectly willing to stay still and find out. When Angelina asked for her coat, all the men volunteered and, what’s more, like gallant cavaliers, offered to walk her to the subway, but she said very prettily, “Gino will take me to the station—he’s too young to be wicked.”
Since all the beds were laden with platters of food awaiting their turn for table, Larry and Louisa’s apartment below was used as a coat room. Angelina said, “I’ll go down with him.” She took Gino by the arm and they both left. The wedding party went on. Lucia Santa thought of sending Vincenzo down to Larry’s apartment on some excuse, to make sure nothing happened, and then thought better of it. Her son was old enough and grown enough to taste a woman, and here was a fine opportunity with no danger to him. Manga franca.