The Calendar Brides (2 page)

“Bigger than big,” Haley reinforced from nearby.

“Well, come on! What’s going on?” Emma impatiently glanced around the room.

Lena smiled, her highlights glowing in the natural light of the window. Maybe they
did
let the sunshine in. “It all started with Rachel!”

Susan set her knitting aside to cradle her champagne flute. “And, it’s not over yet.”

Emma turned toward her cousin with the short, springy curls. “Rachel?”

Rachel held out her hand, and Emma embraced her. “Oh, Rachel! That’s wonderful!” She pulled back, meeting Rachel’s gaze. “Tom?”

Bev sighed. “Did everyone know but me?”

“Not everyone,” Trish responded. “Angie seemed to miss it.”

“Hey!” Angie retorted, “Can I help it if Zoe called during Parent Zumba time?”

“You Zumba?” Nona asked with surprise.

Bev met Zoe’s eyes. “
Et tu, Brute
?”

“No one wanted to hurt you.” Tiny surreptitiously rolled up her paper bag and tucked it between the sofa cushions. “You know, given the history you had with—”

“
History’s
the word, hey.” Bev surveyed their faces. “I can’t believe that none of you thought I could handle it.”

“There’s more good news!” Lena said, changing the subject.

Emma expectantly eyed her grandmother, who glowed.

“Shall we pop the second bottle?” Rachel asked.

Nona brought her hands together in a happy clap. “Let’s!”

Of Nona’s six sons, all had produced only daughters. World traveler Bev and singer Lena were sisters. Artsy Zoe and the insatiable Tiny were sisters, too, as were the trio Nona had dubbed
the romantics:
Emma, Claire, and Rachel. Genuinely athletic Haley and aspiring Zumba queen Angie were twins. Quick-witted Jane was shy knitter Susan’s big sister, while outspoken redhead Trish was an only child. Nona smiled at them all, delighted to have them here. Their gathering once a month for Sunday Prosecco had become a tradition—whether or not anyone had anything to celebrate. The girls took turns bringing the booze and delectable chocolates. Sometimes someone baked cookies. Tiny often brought her own bag, besides. Nobody ever knew what was in there, and everyone—particularly vegetarian Zoe—was frightened to ask. So all pretended not to notice, and Nona always took care to check between the sofa cushions once all of her granddaughters had gone.
 

She loved them each dearly and felt blessed to have bonded with them all in different ways. While she’d doted on her sons and had tried to be a good mom to them when they were growing up, she’d never quite understood the joy of having girls. Being blessed by a plethora of granddaughters had taught her a lesson: how vastly she could love, and how deep her well of affection could run. The girls called her “Nona” after
nonna
, the Italian word for grandmother. Emma, as the oldest, had been the first to speak and write. Unfortunately, Emma had never been a very good speller. When she’d presented her Nona with that first card made in kindergarten, Nona had been charmed by her efforts and wasn’t about to offer any sort of reprimand. So the grandmotherly nickname had stuck and was still used by the girls to this day.

Once Emma had settled in with her wine, Nona pointed to the photo album. Emma’s puppy snoozed at her feet, exhausted from the previous attention. “Angie, be a dear and hand that over.”

Angie grinned, looking perkier than normal. Perhaps she really
was
doing Zumba. “Another rundown of the men in your life?”

Nona took the book and settled it in her lap. “Did I ever tell you girls about my previous engagements?”

“All four of them,” Rachel answered with a giggle. She perched on the arm of the sofa beside Jane and Susan.

“There were five, counting Grandpa,” Jane corrected.

“I hardly see how that counts,” Nona said with a wink. “I married him!”

The others watched as she opened the book and flipped through its glossy pages. Most of the photos were old, and in black and white.

“You really were a heartbreaker,” Zoe said.

“Worldwide,” Bev added.

Nona’s lips took a downward turn. “Yes,” she said a bit sadly. “But that’s not how I planned it.” For a moment she appeared wistful.

Claire reached out and gently touched her arm. “What do you mean?”

Nona’s eyes brimmed at the bittersweet memory. “That’s not how I planned it with Luigi.”

“He was your first love,” Susan commented from the sofa. She’d put down her glass and had taken to knitting again.

“Susan,” Nona asked suddenly, “is someone you know having a baby?”

Susan glanced around the room with a rapid blush. “Um…no. Not really.”

The others shrugged and turned their attention back on their grandmother. Susan was always knitting crazy things, like the time she made that tiny sweater for her neighbor’s cat. Nona thought it was some sort of latent nesting instinct, itching to burst forward at just the right moment. But before she could nest, Susan had to find a man. It would help if she started looking.

“That’s right,” Tiny said, “back in Sicily. You dated when you were fifteen.”

“Fourteen,” Nona said.

“Wow,” Trish remarked. “That’s young.”

Nona shared a soft smile. “It didn’t feel young then.”

“When your family moved to the States, you had to leave him behind,” Claire said, remembering.

Nona nodded sadly. “There wasn’t really any choice.”

“For either of you,” Claire said softly.

“No.”

“Which one was he?” Haley asked, leaning over her shoulder.
 

Nona turned to the second page in the book. There were several old photos neatly arranged, most of them taken on a beach. While her face and figure had changed quite a bit, the girls could recognize their Nona at once from her big, dark eyes. She stood with a handsome young man, who looked about her age—maybe a little older. In a few of the pictures, they embraced.

“Looks like something out of a movie,” Lena sighed.

“Who was the photographer?” Jane asked.

“My brother, Giovanni. He was Luigi’s age; they were best friends.”

“So Luigi was older?” Jane surmised.

“By just a year.”

Claire noted the melancholy in her Nona’s eyes. “Whatever became of him?”

“Of Luigi?” Nona shrugged mysteriously, and avoided her granddaughters’ gazes. “Now,
that’s
an intriguing question.”

Jane sat up with interest and Susan dropped her knitting. “Are you saying that you’ve heard from him?” Rachel asked, her jaw dropping.

Nona glanced around the room with an impish grin. “The Internet is a marvelous thing.”

None of them could believe it! Their Nona had been carrying on an online affair. “When did this start?” Tiny asked.

“About six months ago,” Nona said. “We reconnected on Facebook.”

The girls stared at each other in shock. “You’re on Facebook?” Jane asked, aghast.

“Of course! Why not?”

“Why not, indeed?” Trish said, shooting Jane a look.

Angie’s face brightened. “I think that’s awesome!”

“Facebook or Luigi?” Haley asked.

“Both!”

Lena rearranged her tie-dyed top. “I think it’s dynamite, too.”

“You’ll have to friend us!” Bev said brightly, until the others turned their eyes on her. “Uh, yeah… Maybe not.”

“That’s okay.” Nona laughed lightly. “I’m not so keen on letting you in on my secrets, either.”

Zoe grinned, liking the sound of this. “Oooh…our Nona has secrets.”

Nona gave her a play swat in the air. “You know precisely what I’m saying. Some of what goes on there is…” She paused and sat up a little straighter. “…personal.”

“Well, I think it’s cool you and your old flame reconnected after all this time,” Tiny said.
 

“Cool, and very romantic,” Claire chimed in.

“Are you going to see him?” Susan wanted to know.

Nona’s face fell. “If only that were possible.”

While Nona wasn’t poor, her granddaughters understood she wasn’t rich either. She’d raised six sons mostly on her own, after her husband had died of an early heart attack at forty. She now lived on her retirement from the simple shop she’d help run at the edge of town.

“Can he come here?” Trish inquired. “For a visit?”

“Luigi is a good man, but of modest means. Always has been. That’s one of the things my father didn’t like about him.”

“I didn’t know your dad was against him,” Bev said with surprise.

“Oh, yes. Both of my parents opposed the relationship.”

Emma’s expression was puzzled. “But I thought Luigi was Giovanni’s friend?”

“He was, but he was also a fisherman’s son. And fishing was what he was born to do.”

Tiny frowned worriedly. “That wasn’t good enough for your parents?”
 

“They wanted me to marry someone educated. Somebody with a future.”

“Like Grandpa,” Zoe said, understanding. Their granddad was a second-generation Italian American who’d been raised here. He’d finished high school, then had run the local arm of a large shipping business right here in Chandelier, their tiny seaside town. It was ironic that he and Luigi had both had maritime careers.

Claire gazed out the window, surveying the ocean cliffs and faraway horizon. “You were destined to live by the sea.”

“I was destined to marry your grandfather,” Nona said surely. “I believe that with all my heart. How else could I have gotten such wonderful sons, or such amazing grandbaby girls?” She set the open photo album in her lap and extended her arms, and they all wrapped their arms around her in an enormous group hug.

“We love you, Nona,” Rachel said, her new diamond sparkling.
 

“And I love you, too,” Nona said, lightly patting whoever’s hands and arms were wound around her.

Jane, who stood at the back of the group, stared down through the entangled limbs to the black-and-white photo on the open page. “Yeah, but once upon a time you loved him.”

“Not just once…” came Nona’s muffled reply.

The girls hugged her tighter with anticipation. Zoe, who was closest to Nona’s face, was the first to ask. “What does that mean?”

“I still love him, I do!”

The group hug broke apart as the girls stared at their grandmother. Nona brought both hands to her chest with a whimper. “I’ve never known such pain.”

“Nona? Are you sick?” Tiny asked with concern.

“She’s heartsick, can’t you see?” Claire defended.

Nona met Claire’s eyes. “You always could see things.”

“Oh, no,” Lena said.

“I’m sorry, Nona,” Rachel added.

Susan pursed her lips in a frown. “Me, too.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Haley asked.

“Yeah,” Angie said. “To help?”

“I’m afraid there’s no helping with this one.” Nona sadly hung her head. “We’re oceans apart.”

“Oceans can be crossed,” Bev said.

“Not this time, I’m afraid. I’m too old. He’s too old. Neither of us has the money.”

Trish met her Nona’s eyes. “There has to be a way.”

“There is no way, my dear. Luigi and I have discussed it. But if there were…” Emotion clouded her eyes.
 

“What?” Rachel prompted. “Tell us what you were going to say.”

Nona looked around the group and her chin trembled. “If I
were
able to go…” She turned to Rachel sprightly. “You wouldn’t be the only betrothed in town…”

Claire brought a napkin to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?”
the group cried.

Nona demurred with a blush, but her eyes held the passion of a much younger woman.
 

“Luigi has asked me to be his bride.”

 
“So you would go?” Lena asked first. “I mean, if it were possible? Go, and leave us behind?”

Nona studied them warmly. “You don’t know how much you girls mean to me. You’re my life’s joy. But my heart has always been in Sicily. Ever since I was a girl. I’m not sure if you can understand.”

“Of course we can,” Claire said, taking her hand.

Jane nodded astutely. “It’s your homeland.”

“Yes. And the older I’ve become, I’ve… Well, I don’t mean to put this wrong. Because I’ve absolutely loved America. It’s given me so much opportunity. Truly, it has. But once upon a time, like Jane said, and long ago, I had a completely different life. One more tied to the soil. The land.”

“Your parents were farmers,” Bev said, reminding the others. “Tomatoes and olives.”

“And what a delicious sauce we could make,” Nona said with fond remembrance. “With shellfish.” She hung her head with a blush. “Luigi used to bring us the fish.”

“So you had a regular opportunity—” Haley began.