Authors: Rosanna Chiofalo
Bella Fortuna (23 page)
Sometimes I swear Aldo has mind-reading abilities.
“Yes, I'm sure.”
I avert my eyes from Aldo's penetrating gaze as I say this.
The door's buzzer sounds.
“Hello! Hello!”
“It's Michael! Don't breathe a word about any of this to him.”
I make my way to the front of the store.
“We're back here.”
“Hey, guys.”
Michael nods his head in greeting to everyone.
“Hey, Michael,” Rita, Connie, and Aldo call out in unison. Then they just stand there without saying another word, just staring at Michael and me. Michael looks a bit uneasy, which is unlike him. Though he isn't a big talker like my family and Aldo are, he's always managed to say more than just hello.
“So, you ready to go, Valentina?”
“Yes, yes. I'll see you guys at home tonight. I won't be back at the shop. I have a few wedding-related errands to run.”
Michael is looking more and more nervous. Maybe he isn't feeling well.
“Don't worry about it, Vee. Connie and I will hold down the fort. Besides, Ma should be here soon.”
“Have fun!” Aldo calls to us as we step out into the stormy weather.
“The car's just across the street. Luckily, I found parking close so we won't get completely drenched.”
I nod my head as I follow Michael and hold on to my umbrella with a vise-like grip, hoping the gusty winds won't rip it out of my hands.
Inside the car, Michael hands me a few napkins from his glove compartment.
“Thanks.”
I dab at the raindrops on my face.
“So where are we going? I guess our options are limited since it's so lousy outside. I doubt you want to drive far or anything.”
“Actually, I thought we'd head over to my house in Oyster Bay.”
I smile at him. Has he planned something romantic? Mr. and Mrs. Carello own a second home in Oyster Bay, which they use primarily during the summer months. Michael and I go there when we want to be alone, which is often since I'm still living with my family, and Michael has a roommate who rarely leaves their apartment.
Michael and I had found a house on Upper Ditmars Boulevard that we put a down payment on six months ago. We're having a few renovations done, and it won't be ready to move into for another two weeks. Of course with our traditional Italian upbringing, we won't be living together in the house until on our wedding night.
One day, however, Michael surprised me and took me there. We had a picnic on the floor of the house. Since the electricity wasn't turned on yet, Michael had brought lots of candles. He'd said he couldn't wait for the house to be ready for us to spend some time in it.
“Oyster Bay? I didn't think you'd want to drive all the way out there in this weather, but sure. It'll be nice.” I lean over and kiss Michael on the lips. But he just quickly kisses me back and starts the ignition.
“We'd better get going.”
Again, he seems anxious to be on our way. He's probably just eager to have me to himself. It's been several weeks since we'd made love. With the wedding fast approaching, my responsibilities at Sposa Rosa, and finishing up the last touches on my gown, it has been hard for me to get away even on a weekend night. Michael's new promotion at Smith Barney has meant longer hours, and he's even gone into the office on weekends. Connie's right. It'll be nice to have the wedding over so that I'll see Michael every day. I'm foolish to be sad that all this craziness with the wedding planning will soon be over. It's definitely putting a dent in my quality time with Michael. He assures me things will free up a bit with his job not long after we get married. And as he puts it, he'll have me for the entire night
every
night even when he does have to work late. The thought of that makes me weak in my knees. I feel a warm glow thinking that soon we'll be in his house, cuddling under the blankets together and making love on this stormy day.
every
night even when he does have to work late. The thought of that makes me weak in my knees. I feel a warm glow thinking that soon we'll be in his house, cuddling under the blankets together and making love on this stormy day.
I reach over and place my hand on Michael's thigh, something I've always done when he's driving. Michael looks down at my hand and frowns. He returns his attention to the road.
“Are you okay, Michael?”
“Yeah. Just tired from all the long hours I've been putting in at work.”
“Are you sure? You just don't seem yourself today.”
“Let's just talk when I'm done driving. I need to keep my attention fully on the road. If you haven't noticed, it's treacherous out there.”
His words sting me.
“There's no need for the sarcasm. I was just worried about you.”
Michael glances at me. His lips are pursed tightly together, and his eyes look pained.
“I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. You didn't deserve that.”
I remain quiet. Even though he'd apologized, he hadn't touched me. In the past whenever he'd spoken out of line, he'd always made sure to touch my hand or stroke my hair or even kiss me. Well, I can play that game, too. I take my hand off his thigh. From my peripheral vision, I can see he's looking at me from time to time while keeping his eyes on the road.
I lean over, turning on the radio and scanning through the music stations until I decide to just switch to AM so that I can listen to the weather report on 1010 WINS.
“Do you mind turning the radio off?”
“I can lower the volume.” I reach over to do so, but Michael abruptly slams his hand over the power dial, shutting the radio off.
Now I know for certain something's wrong. I'm too nervous to say anything, though. After riding for fifteen minutes in silence, I can't take it anymore. I decide to keep it light.
“So, can you believe we'll be married and in Venice in just a few weeks? I can't wait. We'll finally get to relax. I've started doing some research on some of the sites we should see in Venice.”
Michael is still silent.
“I know you've been busy with work, but have you thought at all about what you might be interested in seeing when we're there?”
“Not really. As you said, I've just been completely consumed by work, especially after I got this promotion.”
“I'm thinking I'm going to take an additional month off from work after we return from the honeymoon. This way I can get the house settled and all. I've already started browsing through a few home décor magazines to get a few ideas.”
Michael is exiting off the Jewel Avenue ramp of the Grand Central Parkway. Why is he getting off in Forest Hills? We still have at least another twenty minutes to go to get to Oyster Bay.
“What are you doing, Michael?”
“I changed my mind. I don't want to go all the way out to Oyster Bay.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, the weather is bad, and I can see the rush hour traffic is starting to pick up.”
“That's not why.”
He makes a left onto 110th Street and pulls over into an empty parking space in front of a huge McMansion. The past two decades, McMansions have been sprouting up in the suburbs of New York, mostly on Long Island. Though Forest Hills is in Queens, it has more of a residential urban feel to it. And many of the beautiful older Tudor homes are landmarks. But even here, McMansions have taken root. We are parked in front of a McMansion, which is beautiful but still seems out of place on this city street. Personally, I prefer the older Tudor homes in Forest Hills or even the Italianate villa style of Signora Tesca's Mussolini Mansion. Though they are smaller in scale than the McMansions, they are still spacious houses and hold far more appeal for me.
“Michael, what's going on? You've been acting weird since you got to the shop.”
Michael is staring at the McMansion we're parked in front of. I wait for a full two minutes, but he's still silent.
“Michael, you're scaring me. What is it?”
“Damn it, Vee! Can't you let me explain in my own good time? You're always in a rush.”
Tears fill my eyes. I look out the window at the ugly McMansion, focusing on the tall wrought-iron gate and the ugly rocking chair that stands by the front door.
Michael hits the steering wheel with his fist. I jump at the sound but refuse to turn toward him. His anger is scaring me. What have I done to make him so upset?
“Valentina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.”
I turn around and look at him.
“I know. That's not like you. It's okay. Just take your time and tell me what's on your mind whenever you're ready.”
Michael sighs deeply.
“Why do you have to always be so nice? You're making this even harder.”
Our eyes meet, but he quickly looks away, staring at his windshield. The rain is still coming down hard.
Michael runs his hand over his hair and shuts his eyes, squeezing them tightly. He then says, “I can't do it.”
My heart begins thumping.
“Do what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. A small twig falls onto the windshield. I stare at it.
“You know. The wedding.”
It's my turn to shut my eyes. I'm not hearing this.
“It's the big wedding, isn't it? I know. It can be overwhelming. But if you want it to be just you and me in Venice, we can still do that. I'm sure our families would understand. It's about us, after all. Whatever you want, Michael. I'm sorry. I've been letting this wedding consume us.”
I can't believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. I don't recognize the person who's saying them.
What about me?
I hear somewhere deep down. A big wedding is what I've always wanted. And how could our families not be there? Ma would never forgive me, and after losing Baba, I want my family to share my happy moment with me. But I know I'm desperate, reaching out for a lifesaver to keep me afloat.
What about me?
I hear somewhere deep down. A big wedding is what I've always wanted. And how could our families not be there? Ma would never forgive me, and after losing Baba, I want my family to share my happy moment with me. But I know I'm desperate, reaching out for a lifesaver to keep me afloat.
“Vee, it's not about the big wedding. I don't want to get married anymore.”
I don't even try to keep my tears at bay. They're racing down my face as fast as the raindrops coming down the windshield.
“You're just getting cold feet. That happens to everyone. I've even been feeling a bit blue. Getting married can be scary. Let's just talk. We can work anything out.”
“It's not cold feet, Valentina. I've been feeling this way for the past two months.”
“Two months? And you're only telling me now?”
“I'm sorry, Vee. I was trying to ignore how I felt. That's why I didn't say anything sooner. I thought maybe it was just your typical getting cold feet before the wedding. But it's not. I can't deny how I feel. I can't go through with this unless I'm one hundred percent certain. It wouldn't be fair to me or you.”
“You're being selfish! Don't try to say you're thinking of me. It's always been about you. And I've been too stupid to see it or want to see it. This started much longer than two months ago.”
“Valentina, I swear. It's only been recently that I've had doubts.”
“Doubts about me.”
“No, it's not you. I just don't think I'd be happy married to anyone.”
“You're just saying that to spare my feelings. I'm not an idiot. This goes back to when you were in Munich, and I stopped hearing from you. Again, you put yourself first then just like you're doing now. If you really cared about me, you would've kept in touch with me. And if you did love me, you would've come to me two months ago to tell me how you were feeling. But you have always kept me at a distance.”
I reach into his glove compartment, pulling out the whole stack of napkins from restaurants we've visited. I can't stop crying.
“That's not true, Valentina. And you know it.”
“No, I don't know it. Don't try to tell me what I'm feeling.”
“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
“Then why are you?”
“Vee, it's complicated.”
“Why? Why don't you want to get married anymore? And don't say that you think you don't want to get married to anyone at all. That's bullshit. You know it, and I know it. So spit it out. What did I do?”
“You didn't do anything. I'm just not ready for marriage. You've seen how busy I've been at work. I haven't even had enough time for you. I need to devote myself fully to my career so I can get to where I need to be in a few years.”
“Is it someone else?”
“No, of course not.”
I can't resist laughing and parroting him.
“No, of
course
not. Like
that's
never happened. After all, you made out with my best friend Tracy right after you danced with me at the sophomore dance even though you told me later you really wanted to ask me out. If I was the one you really wanted, then why was it so easy for you to be sucking face with the Slut of Astoria?”
course
not. Like
that's
never happened. After all, you made out with my best friend Tracy right after you danced with me at the sophomore dance even though you told me later you really wanted to ask me out. If I was the one you really wanted, then why was it so easy for you to be sucking face with the Slut of Astoria?”
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