Filippo had lived in New York for years, hardly ever making the trip home, so it was no wonder his mother was so extravagantly pleased to see him. She was so overjoyed that she ignored Teresa and her granddaughter, the bride-to-be.
Rosa Luciano was still collecting her things from the back of the Rolls-Royce. The driver held the door open for her as she got out. Sophia was surprised at how attractive the girl had grown; it had been years since she had seen her. Rosa had inherited her father's dark eyes and black, curly hair.
Teresa was older than Filippo, and to Sophia's eyes she looked more like a spinster schoolteacher than ever, her pinched face, sharp nose, and tight mouth accentuating her bad temper as she tried to organize the luggage and her daughter while waiting to be welcomed by Graziella. It amused Sophia to see how nervous her sister-in-law was as she made an embarrassed gesture toward her crumpled skirt and jacket.
"Aunt Sophia… Aunt Sophia…" Rosa Luciano rushed into the room. "Can I see my dress? Can I see it?"
Sophia moved quickly away from the window. "Can you wait until it's pressed? I want you to see it at its best… You know, Rosa, you have grown into a beauty. Let me see you close."
Rosa beamed, then tossed her head. "Maybe you should wait until later, when the creases are out of me. We were delayed hours at the airport, and then Mama and Papa argued all the way because Papa insisted on driving, so Mama nearly had heart failure-"
Sophia kissed Rosa's lips. "When one is as young as you, and a bride-to-be, there are no creases. They come with age, my darling, and you are as pretty-"
Rosa hugged her tight. "Oh, Aunt Sophia, I am so happy I don't know what to do with myself. Look, have you seen my ring?"
Sophia made all the right noises as she examined the emerald and diamond ring. Rosa was to marry Don Roberto's nephew, a boy the same age as she, just twenty.
Sophia knew he could not have afforded the ring; il Papa, the don himself, had bought it, as he had Sophia's engagement ring. She could tell at a glance that it was worth thousands.
Rosa threw herself on the bed. "You know, Aunt Sophia, sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it's all really happening. Two months ago I didn't know Emilio existed. He came to New York on business for Grandpa and we met-it was love at first sight, he proposed to me on our second date. It was so romantic."
"Your mother must be very happy." Rosa sat up and gave a lopsided grin. "Are you asking me or telling me? You'd think it was Mama getting married, she's made such a fuss. She's even started telling me the facts of life, keeps bringing me books on the reproductive organs, checking that my periods are regular.
In the end I said, 'Mama, I'm getting married, not going into labor.' " Just at that moment Teresa walked in. She pursed her lips. "Shouldn't you unpack, Rosa? You must take everything you want pressed down to Adina in the kitchen." Rosa jumped off the bed and winked at Sophia as she loped out of the room.
Teresa sighed and crossed to Sophia; they kissed. "She can never walk from a room, she's so clumsy. I hope you haven't made a dress with a long train; she'll trip over her feet." Sophia laughed and assured Teresa that the dress would be perfect. "Can I see it?" Teresa asked. "Mama has decided that the women will spend the evening alone while the men go out.
We can see the dress then." Teresa pushed her thick glasses back to the bridge of her thin nose. "You look very fit, slim as ever. Are the boys well? I hear they spend a lot of time here. How is Constantino?" "Well, very busy… And you?" Teresa ignored the question and continued. "It's strange Don Roberto was not here to meet us. He usually is. Was he here when you arrived?" "No, just Mama."
"She looks very well."
"Yes, I thought so, too," "But then, you see her more often than we do."
Teresa's shortsighted eyes flicked around the room, noting everything, the clothes on their hangers, the neat array of shoes. Sophia said, "I expect you'll see more of Mama now that Rosa is marrying. Will she live at the villa?" Teresa smiled, unable to hide her pleasure.
"Oh, I think so. Don Roberto treats him like a son." She was almost out of the door when she stopped and closed it.
"It is not an arranged marriage. They are in love." "Yes, Rosa told me." Teresa had never been sure how many of the family knew the background to her own marriage. She had never known why the don had chosen her, but she had never argued.
The first time she had set eyes on her handsome husband she had wanted him more than anything else in her life, except to conceive a son. Rosa was her only child, but with the forthcoming marriage she was confident that she and Filippo would no longer have to feel like poor relations.
"We are on the top floor," Teresa complained. "It's inconvenient what with having to help Rosa dress. I would have thought we'd have the room below yours, the big guest room."
"Mama put the boys in there. We can keep an eye on them, hear them if they wake in the night."
"Yes, she told me. Well, I'll unpack, not that it'll take me long. I see you have brought a veritable wardrobe. Perhaps if my suit is not good enough, you could lend me something?"
"You are welcome to choose anything-"
Teresa interrupted her curtly. "Thank you, but I'm sure what I've brought will suffice." She left the room.
Next to arrive was Emilio Luciano, the groom, his young face bright pink with nerves. Constantino leaped down the stairs two at a time and clasped his nephew-to-be in his arms. Filippo, with shaving cream on his face and wearing only his trousers, appeared at the top of the stairs and then, amazingly, glided down the banisters to land in the hall. The children attempted to emulate him by sliding, belly down, on the polished wooden rail.
Amid the congratulations, the backslapping, the shouting and teasing, Graziella stood bursting with happiness. These were her boys, her sons, her grandsons. She seemed unaware of the mayhem, of the fact that Filippo wore only his trousers; she just clapped her hands, hunching her shoulders coyly when one or another of her boys paid her an outrageous compliment.
"Who is this young woman? Where's our mama, eh? You telling me this beauty is our mama? How come you don't age, huh?"
As Graziella gestured ineffectually for them all to go into the living room, Rosa hurtled into Emilio's arms. They kissed, to a round of applause. In mock desperation Graziella brought out a gong, as she had done when the boys were little. She banged it, hughing, and one by one they drifted in.
Graziella served espresso, and once they all were settled and the initial excitement was over, she made an excuse to get more coffee.
"I'll do that, Grandmama."
"No, no, Rosa, I have to check on supper."
Graziella crossed the hall, but instead of going toward the kitchen, she entered the dining room. Alone, she let out a long, deep sigh; the tension of having to hide her feelings had exhausted her. She pushed the shutters open slightly and checked her watch. He should have been home by now. He had said no later than five, and it was already past that. The florists, the builders and decorators had all gone, the family had arrived, and still, there was no sign of him. He always phoned if he was even fifteen minutes late. Why hadn't he called today of all days?
The telephone rang shrilly, and Graziella gasped with shock. She hurried into the hall as Adina replaced the phone.
"It was a message for you, signora. Don Roberto should be home in a few moments. He tried to get through earlier, but someone must have been using the telephone."
Graziella crossed herself. "Thank you, Adina. Make some fresh coffee, and check that all the extensions are unplugged. Leave only the phones in the hall and the study connected."
Adina nodded. Something was very wrong. She had felt it in her mistress days before the arrival of the family. But she dared not ask; she could only pretend she was unaware of it.