Chapter 19 The Vines Bear Witness to Everything #3
She took my hand and placed it on her face.
“My people…hard. Feel my bone structure?” She pushed even harder.
“Hard. Even the slope of my nose is sharp.
Mostly all the women of the Fausti family back then were this way.
This is why our men can be so handsome for generations.
The hardness of bone translates differently in men.
It brings out their maleness. In women…it makes them seem stiff and rigid.
“My mamma loved us, but this is who she was. Stiff and rigid. She was the wife of the head lion. She showed us affection, however, we always knew our place in the world. When Avelina came into our lives…I found myself staring at her. I thought she floated down from a cloud.” Aunt Lola laughed.
“She was just so…soft. So soft and beautiful.
Not only her outside appearance, but there was something healing about her, comforting.
Perhaps…perhaps the same as the sun on a cool day, one just like this one. Not burning unless you made her mad.
“This was why she was sent to live with us. The war was growing meaner, colder, and your great-grandfather had been killed. Your grandmother was younger than Avelina, too small to work. Avelina took it upon herself to find work with our family to help her mamma, your grandmother. We had extra properties. Your great-grandmother and grandmother lived on the property as part of Avelina’s payment.
“If I remember correctly, it was Grazia, Marzio’s wife, who referred her to us.
Grazia had the most beautiful bone structure, but there was a softness to her as well.
More about her body, I remember. All these soft women coming around our home at a similar time.
Mamma felt…mamma felt soft equaled to not strong enough for the men in the family.
Ah! Back to the reason…This is why Avelina came to live with us.
My grandmother needed a live-in caretaker.
Avelina used to travel with your great-grandfather, and she had some medical training.
I believe it was her wish to become a doctor, a healer, as well. ”
“She was soft, smart, and different, and two of your brothers fell in love with her.”
“Sì. The world was at war, and so were my brothers in the same house.”
“Your father didn’t like it.”
“He did not. Neither did mamma. My parents found brides for my brothers to quell the growing tension between them. Ricco would have killed Francesco, and mamma believed this was unfair since Ricco had true love on his side. Meaning, Avelina had chosen him. I hate when favorites are picked, but mamma always favored Francesco.” She nodded like that was the end of that.
“Francesco agreed to his chosen bride. Ricco said nothing when his bride was offered. It then became an order. An order my parents found out he was going to defy.”
“Somehow your parents found out about the air-raid.”
“There was talk,” she whispered.
“Somehow they sent my great-aunt there.”
“This was the way of it, or so Ricco told Marzio. Marzio told me when I was older. A lot of people do not know this, but as Tito was my brother’s advisor, I was my husband’s advisor.
We do this for our men. Especially when they are holding all this inside.
It is good to have a woman’s take on things.
This makes a man especially powerful. Not only does he have his intuition, but a woman’s, and in my opinion, there is nothing that comes close to it. ”
“I don’t even know what to say…about the situation with my great-aunt. I do believe you about a woman’s intuition being unmatched.”
She became quiet, and I realized one of the soldiers had a mug of steaming tea, by the scent of it, in his hands, walking closer. He handed it to Aunt Lola and she thanked him, setting it in the cup holder of the wheelchair after he walked off.
She picked up the conversation as if it had never stopped. “There is nothing to say, Nipote Biscottina, only lessons to learn.”
“You’re telling me I need to learn from her.”
She nodded. “Avelina knew the risks of falling in love with a man of Fausti blood, and she accepted them.”
“So do I,” I whispered.
“Sì. Tito mentioned speaking to you about my nephew, Luca. He is a force to be reckoned with. You, like Scarlett, are touched. He knows this. If there is something off about his wife’s behavior, he will not hesitate to strike at anyone who comes between him and his heart.”
“Why would he strike out at those closest to him?”
“Perhaps if his wife is taken from him, he will not wish to live any longer.”
“He’ll want someone to…kill him?”
“He is dramatic in this way. I have seen it time and time again. My father. Brothers. All my nephews and their sons. Mia…she is more like me. Level-headed for the most part. Dramatic only when the situation needs a touch of romance.”
“Who would dare do that? Kill Luca?”
“A battle,” she mumbled, “in her honor.” Her head started to droop a bit. She was getting tired.
I stood, setting the flowers in the basket, and wiped my hands on my pants, preparing to wheel her back to Nel Cielo.
“Where is my Tito?” she whispered.
I searched the property, finding Ermanno still wheeling him around. They were coming our way.
“Close,” I said. “He’s almost here.”
She tilted her head toward the sun, almost basking in it.
“Bene. We do not sleep without each other now. Will you push me there?” She pointed.
“The sun is brighter. When I was a girl, I used to love to lie in the grass and just let the sun flow over me like honey. Nothing would be better now, except to have my Tito next to me.”
Ermanno met us, and we wheeled the love birds to a brighter spot, where white mums surrounded them.
It was exceptionally picturesque. So peaceful.
Uncle Tito had reached out for Aunt Lola’s hand, and they held tight while they both closed their eyes to the warmth of the sun.
Ermanno asked me if I wanted to pick more flowers.
I told him I would while they napped, and he and I stood close while we picked a huge bouquet for the kitchen.
My husband walked out to meet me. His lips were tender at first, then grew harder when I refused to release his shirt. The story of Avelina and Ricco was fresh in my mind, and it made me feel almost desperate for him.
He looked me in the eyes, and his held a question: What is it that is making you feel this way? Or in his and the men in his family’s way…tell me.
“Have you seen the pictures of Avelina?” I pulled them from the pocket of my cardigan and handed them to him.
He looked between the pictures and me, and his demeanor hardened. He must have understood I was feeling their tragic history, having a hard time separating their lives from ours, because he pulled me to him so hard, I was having a hard time taking a breath.
Aunt Lola was right. We were not even at war, and Avelina and Ricco’s tragic love story was heightening our feelings for each other—the desperation to make every breath count between us.
“It is time,” Uncle Tito said in a gravelly whisper, but his voice was anguished as he kissed Aunt Lola’s hand, his face tilted up to the sky. His voice continued to rise as he said the same thing repeatedly, kissing her again and again.
Rocco and I rushed to where they were. Aunt Lola’s head was tilted back toward the sun, her face a mask of peace while she clung to Uncle Tito still, but there wasn’t a breath left in her to take.