An Unlikely Suitor (4 page)

Mamma’s eyes lost a bit of their sorrow. “Would he like our new place?”

Lucy nodded. “He would.”

“Then I will like it too.”

Mamma amazed her. She never let anything bother her. What life handed her she embraced—or at least set aside without complaining. Sofia wasn’t keen on change, any change. Even though their life was hard, would this new life Lucy concocted be any better?

It had better be.

L
ucy braced herself to see him again.

Angelo Romano, her ex-fiancé, was helping them move. He possessed two key essentials: a two-wheeled cart and a strong back.

Lucy hated having to call on him, but all their other requests for help had been answered with good excuses. People couldn’t risk their jobs to take off work and help the Scarpellis move. Because Angelo worked for his father, he had some leeway in such things. But would he associate her need for his services with her need for
him
? Four years had passed. Surely he wouldn’t still want to marry her.

There was a knock on their door and Lucy felt her stomach flutter. She opened it. “
Ciao
, Angelo.”

With cap in hand he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “
Ciao
, my dear Lucy.”

My dear Lucy?

He looked past her. “Signora Scarpelli. You’re looking well.”

Lea smiled at him and handed him a crate of dishes. “You are very kind to help us, Angelo.”

With a wink to Lucy he said, “Didn’t your husband always say, ‘
Mal comune, mezzo gaudio’?
Trouble shared is trouble halved. I’m glad to do it.”

Lucy immediately gathered a load of belongings. Perhaps if she kept him busy Angelo wouldn’t have time to court her or ask questions she couldn’t answer.

For she didn’t love him anymore. He was far too frivolous and flighty, and in hindsight she realized their marriage would have caused more anguish than joy. If she ever found a man—if—she wanted someone with a practical nature who could ease her burdens, not add to them.

Sofia came out of the bedroom. “Angelo!” She ran to him, hugging him awkwardly around the crate.

He set it down and gave her a proper embrace. “Ah, my
piccolina
, it is nice to see you again.”

Sofia stepped away, taking offense. “I’m not your
piccolina
anymore, Angelo. See? I am a grown woman.” She drew herself to her full height with her hands on her hips.

“Sofia!” her mother said.

“Well, I am.”

It wasn’t proper for Sofia to draw attention to her figure. Lucy interceded. “Come now. Let’s carry a load to the cart.”

Angelo returned to the crate of dishes, then held the door open for Lucy with his shoulder. “Ladies first,” he said.

She’d made a horrible mistake asking him to help.

Angelo and Aldo pulled the cart, heavy-laden with the belongings of the Scarpelli women. Such a sight was not uncommon in their old neighborhood, as people often moved from here to there in hope of better accommodations—or to escape paying overdue rent. But as the group made their way to the north, to the newer sections of the city, Lucy felt conspicuous. The ethnic boundaries became blurred and she saw judgment in the eyes of many who did not appreciate the influx of Italians into their neighborhood. Some people walking on the sidewalks looked aghast at the haphazard mountain of crates, mattresses, and chairs, and hurried on their way as if they feared being tainted by the sight of it. Lucy wanted to boldly step in their path and demand they tell her just how else a person was supposed to move to a new home.

With this image still in mind, Lucy had the men stop the cart on the street
before
they reached the windows of the Fashion Emporium. She hated to care so much what the ladies inside thought of her, but also knew her instinct regarding their reaction was correct.

With their destination reached, everyone looked to Lucy for direction. “So,” Uncle Aldo said, arching his back, “where is this wonderful new apartment?”

“Up there.” Lucy pointed to the row of windows above the shop. “Behind those windows is the main room.”

Her mother’s eyes grew wide. “So much light.”

Lucy nodded with satisfaction. “And air. There’s a window in the bedroom too, so this awful heat will be conquered.”

“I get the bedroom!” Sofia said.

“Mamma gets the bedroom.” Lucy looked to Mamma to see if she smiled—but Mamma was busy untying the rope that held everything to the cart. The idea that suddenly everyone would beset the apartment en masse reminded Lucy of her plan to show her mother and sister the place in private.

“If you all could just wait here a moment while I take Mamma and Sofia upstairs alone . . .”

“So what are we?” Aunt Francesca said. “Aren’t we relatives too?”

Uncle Aldo nipped her arm with his hand. “Leave them alone, wife.” He winked at Lucy. “This is Lucia’s special moment.”

Lucy winked back at him. He was a good man and she might actually miss him.

She retrieved the key, opened the street door, and struck a match to light the lamp. “See here? Our own private stairway.”

Mamma looked upward. “Only one flight?”

“Only one.”

Sofia raced up the stairs to the landing. “There’s just the one door. This is ours?”

Lucy followed after her. “This is ours.” She waited to open the door until Mamma had also reached the landing. Then she used the key and swung the door wide. “
This
is ours. Our new home.”

Just as the light from the windows had first drawn Lucy into the room, so it did for her mother and sister. “Look at the view!” Sofia exclaimed. “We don’t have to look into someone else’s window across the alley! We can see the street and watch people come and go.” She opened the sash, leaned out, and called to the family below. “Look here!”

Angelo called up to her.
“Ciao, piccolina!”

Mamma bypassed the windows when she spotted the kitchen. She ran a hand along the edge of the sink as if it were made of solid gold. Lucy turned on the water. “Look, Mamma. Not just running water, but hot water.” She backed up to show more. “And a real stove and oven. We can bake our own bread now.”

Mamma’s eyes were rimmed with tears as she took Lucy’s face in her hands and kissed her. “
Cara ragazza mia
.
Bella.
It is beautiful.”

Lucy wasn’t certain
beautiful
was the right word for the apartment, but—

Sofia interrupted. “Look, Mamma! A bathroom!” Mamma and Lucy found Sofia climbing into the bathtub, just as Lucy had done at her first sight of it. “I’m going to take a bath every day, two times a day, and sit and soak and read and fall asleep. You’ll have to serve me my meals in here.”

“You’ll be making your share of the meals, sister. With all three of us working at the shop . . .”

“You spoil everything, Lucy. I doubt you even know how to pretend to be a grand lady.”

Mamma ignored both of them and went into the bedroom. She turned to Lucy. “A real bed?”

“It’s for you, Mamma. This whole room is yours. No more sleeping on the floor in the living room.”

Mamma sat on the bed but shook her head no. “I can’t take this room. You and Sofia—”

“No,” Lucy said. “You deserve this room, and it’s yours.”

Sofia looked around. “So where are you and I going to sleep?”

“On the mattress we brought from the other place, right here, in the main room.”

Sofia put on her pouty face, but before she could give the mood full reign, Lucy tugged on her arm. “There will be none of that; there will be no complaining in this house. Not for one second.”

Sofia yanked her arm loose. “You don’t get if you don’t ask.”

Sofia did enough of that. Her sister’s selfishness was like a pebble in Lucy’s shoe. She couldn’t understand how Mamma was always so forgiving. If she were Sofia’s mother she’d . . . she’d . . .

God help her if she ever had a child like Sofia. Which she wouldn’t, because she was never going to marry. What did she need with children, anyway? Her experience with Sofia had stifled all maternal longings.

There was a knock on the door. It was Aunt Francesca. “Are you ever going to let us in?”

Lucy helped Mamma to standing. “Enter,” she said. “Welcome to our new home.”

Mamma and Aunt Francesca stood in full embrace, sobbing. “When will I ever see you again?” Aunt said.

Mamma murmured something in her ear. Yet the truth was, this might be a final good-bye. America was a vast place, not easily traversed.

Lucy had already said her good-byes to her uncle and aunt. Feeling the strength of her uncle’s arms reminded her of her father’s embrace. Although Uncle Aldo had never taken her father’s place, his very presence had eased her father’s passing.

And now Uncle would be gone too. They would be three women, alone. The idea frightened her, yet offered an odd exhilaration at the challenge.

Angelo cleared his throat to get her attention. He stood at the door, hat in hand. Although Lucy had done her best to avoid any private contact, such evasion could not be continued. He’d taken much time and effort to help them. He deserved her thanks.

As she walked toward him, he surprised her by drawing her out of the apartment to the landing at the top of the stairs. “Well, then,” he said. “You’re settled.”

“Thanks to you, and to your father’s cart. Please thank him for me.”

He nodded, then looked past her to the apartment. “It’s a large place, much better than the last.”

Lucy suddenly worried that his compliment was a prequel to the suggestion they get back together, marry, and he move in. Her thoughts rushed to this conclusion, and she offered an awkward answer that was wanting in subtlety. “If you’re wanting to move in here with us, Angelo, I apologize for giving you the wrong impression. I—”

He leaned his head back in full laughter. “You think I helped you because I still want to marry you?”

Lucy was horrified. “No, of course not, but . . .”

“Four years have passed, Lucy. Although I admit you hurt me, I’ve moved along with my life.” He nodded toward the apartment. “You have done the same. I am happy to see you happy.”

She hated the thought that he’d gotten over her. “Are you happy?” she asked him.

“I am happy. And married,” he said. “With a son and a daughter.”

Lucy’s legs faltered enough to make the stairway a danger.

Angelo righted her with a hand. “I thought you knew.”

She was suddenly angry and slapped his hand away. “How would I know? I haven’t heard from you in all this time.”

“And I’ve heard from you?” he asked. “Not until you needed my father’s cart and another set of strong arms. Not that I mind, but . . .”

She felt the fool. Not for being ignorant of Angelo’s marriage and children, but for thinking he would still be interested in her after all these years.

Lucy tried to regain her dignity. She set her chin and extended her hand to him. “Thank you very much for your services today, Angelo. My family appreciates your special effort.”

“It’s not your family I care about,” he said softly. “I did it for you, Lucy. And if you ever need me again, please ask.”

With that said, he kissed her cheek before rushing down the stairs and onto the street. Once more Angelo became a sweet memory and Lucy chided herself for opening her heart and mind to romance for even a moment.

Uncle Aldo and Aunt Francesca came to the door to leave. Each gave her one last embrace and kiss good-bye before they too descended the stairs.

Lucy heard Mamma’s soft cries and entered the apartment. The click of the door behind gained special meaning.