Chapter Three
After her conversation with the sensale di matrimoni following church services, Gianna walked back to where the Fabrizios chatted with friends, carrying three envelopes tucked in to her reticule. The family’s routine was to eat lunch at a downtown restaurant before returning to their Eastside house. Tito liked having the meal out to facilitate meeting potential clients. Luisa shone as his pretty and supportive wife, and Gianna loved being anywhere but the mansion.
Both women used the meals to reinforce the children’s table manners and social niceties.
Today, Tito’s younger brother, Alrigo, joined them. He was a charming man—black curly hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a generous nature—and his inclusion provided the balanced appearance of two couples, which Luisa liked. But Gianna struggled to keep up with the conversation because she was too curious about the contents of the three letters.
That evening, Gianna sank down to her settee with the envelopes spread on the cushion to her left. First, she studied the penmanship, believing an element of the person’s essence was apparent in how ink was applied to paper. Two wrote in a calligraphic style that looked suspiciously European. Their ideas about marriage might be as ancient as the beautiful buildings, bridges, and structures of her homeland. But Gianna wanted someone of this younger country. She always pictured Americans as having wilder, more passionate spirits.
The third envelope contained her name and Signora Piazza’s address in upright, standalone letters, almost like their bottoms rested on an invisible line. She snatched it and ripped open the gummed flap.
Gianna,
How I like saying your name aloud. Gi-an-na. The three syllables linger on my tongue. I hope my words weren’t so forthright that I shocked you. Your letter put a label on emotions I must have been feeling but hadn’t yet named. So, thank you for that.
Did you know you mixed in words that I have since learned are Italian? I enjoyed that I first tried to puzzle out their meaning. Then I took the letter to two different leatherworkers in town and asked for a translation. The first was Spanish and he could only make a guess. But when I asked Maurizio Ruggero, a man who makes the most beautiful saddles from Italian leather, he knew them for sure.
If you’re interested in astronomy, you might already know that a solar eclipse will create a path of total blackness over this part of America on July 29th of this year. Viewing that event must certainly have a life-changing impact on those who share the experience. In Chicago, I assume you would see a partial darkening.
I just re-read this letter and realized, in my haste to craft a response, I failed to introduce myself. I’m Blake Wymer, twenty-six, a woodworker, co-owner with my younger brother of a furniture-making company, living in Pueblo, Colorado. I also have a younger sister who is married to a butcher in town, and both my brother and I live in the family home with our widowed mother.
Unused to speaking much about myself, I don’t know what else to include. But I would enjoy hearing from you again.
Sincerely yours,
Blake
Pressing the stationery to her bosom, she closed her eyes and tried her hardest to imagine what Mister Blake Wymer looked like. She eased away the paper to read again the sentences about the eclipse. A man in awe of nature was a man to learn more about. Was his next sentence meant as an invitation?
Slowly, she set the letter down on the adjoining cushion and picked up the next one. An accountant…Seattle…stiff…formal…not a word about stars. Could she relate to a man who dealt with dry numbers all day? She shook her head as she turned it upside down onto the cushion and collected the third envelope. A university professor for five years in a large city…ancient civilizations…anthropological excursions for months…did she possibly speak Sumerian or Egyptian? What a question. Months-long expeditions didn’t fit with her yearning to create a home of her own.
Gianna stood and paced the width of her sitting room. Was responding to all three men fair? Should she focus on the only one with whom she felt a pull? She walked to the corner table, sat, and pulled out pen, ink bottle, and stationery from a lap desk.
Blake,
Strange as my words are, I’m glad to meet you through your correspondence. I admire people who create something of bellezza from raw materials. I have only worked with yarn when I needed to knit inverno garments. But to build a piece of furniture that can be useful for years and by many people sounds wonderful.
The news you shared about the eclipse is very exciting. I must ask my cousin’s marito, who had a Classical education, for an astronomy book. If he has none, then I’ll suggest taking the children on a drive downtown to the Old Water Tank which has been turned into a biblioteca pubblica. Maybe the donations received from England after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 will contain such volumes so I can learn more and possibly share it.
Often men who work in business settings turn to woodworking in their leisure hours. Since the craft is your livelihood, what do you enjoy as a hobby?
Me, I enjoy reading poetry by female poets. Currently, I’m focusing on sonnets and ballads of the sixteenth-century Renaissance. I get caught up in the depth of emotion and pathos and wonder if any lovers of our current time have such strong sentimenti. Not that I would want my husband, if I were sposato, to have been captured in wartime and transported to a foreign country or to have my amante lose interest. I have dabbled at a few lines, but I decided I’m a better appreciator than I am an author.
I’m kept busy during the day with schooling children eleven, nine, and six years old, which often taxes my abilities. But we have such fun when I conduct the class in Italiano. I wonder, do you speak a second language?
I would be very interested in learning more of your life and family.
Yours truly,
Gianna
~oOo~
Blake walked into the house after closing the shop for the day. Instead of using the back stairs, he moved up the hallway to the entry table where Mother placed the mail if she’d been downtown that day. If his workload wasn’t so heavy, he would take a longer lunch break and go collect it himself. A thick, cream-colored envelope boasting elegant handwriting lay on top of the silver tray.
So, his mother would suspect the correspondence came from a woman. Am I ready to tell her what’s happening now, or do I wait until Gianna agrees to come for a visit so we can meet in person?
During supper, he found his foot tapping or his fingers drumming as he ate and waited impatiently as the conversation between Axton and their mother surrounded him. “Wait. What did you say?”
“That I’m thinking of inviting Welda Hulbert to join us after church on Sunday.”
“Count me out, Mother.” Blake eased a forearm onto the table and slid his plate toward the center. He pictured the brunette woman who dressed like his nanna and he suspected was at least three years older than he and five years older than Axton.
“Why would you say that? She is a lovely young woman who would enjoy socializing with my two eligible and successful sons.”
“Have you forgotten she was engaged to two men in the past five years who decided to break those engagements?” He crossed his arms and leaned in her direction. “Mother, those men must have had good reasons. Why would you want to foist her off on one of us?”
Frowning, Mother pursed her lips. “Foist is such an unpleasant word.”
Blake jerked his chin toward his brother, signaling the need for him to contribute his opinion.
“What else would you call it, Mother? You make the decision to invite someone to this house, without consulting either Blake or myself, and then expect us to be involved with entertaining that person?” Axton lifted his mug to his mouth.
Elfrida blew out a breath, slid the knife between the tines of her fork, and clasped her hands on the table edge. “I understand how you might have felt a little put upon. But, at least, this time I’m telling you days ahead of the occasion.”
“Plan on acting as hostess on your own.” Blake pushed away from the table and stood. “Thank you for the meal, Mother. I do appreciate your cooking.” Not wishing to continue the conversation, he headed toward his bedroom to read Gianna’s letter. An hour later, he’d read the letter three times and made a definite conclusion but still wanted to sleep on it. The following day, he walked straight to the Main Street Bank and had a draft drawn on his personal account. The decision might be the biggest one of his life.
~oOo~
Gianna had a huge decision to make. She couldn’t deny the draw she felt toward Blake, but accepting his invitation to visit his hometown and spend time with his family with the goal of determining their compatibility? Of course, this situation was what she hoped for when she first sat at that table opposite Signora Piazza. In her hand was a bank draft that would allow her to buy a train ticket—actually multiples, because she would have to travel on three railroad lines—to take her to Pueblo, Colorado. Blake carefully itemized his research on the needed transportation.
An Italian courtship often lasted years. Within only a couple of months, he’d come to the conclusion they were a good match.
But Tito and Luisa had been so good to her in providing a chance that allowed her to learn about and strengthen her own abilities. Back in Salerno, she probably wouldn’t have received permission to take on a job that demanded she lived away from her parents. Gianna would miss Guido, Aletta, and Rufina, but she never agreed to trade educating the Fabrizio children for becoming a spinster.
The following evening, she waited until Abigail escorted the children upstairs. “I have something I need to speak with you two about.” Then she dove into the details of her correspondence courtship and what her next choice involved.
Eyes wide, Luisa stretched to grasp Tito’s hand. “But what will we do without you? The children love you. And I depend so on your help and companionship.”
“Luisa, you’re sweet to say so, but our family has many unmarried cousins who would love to become a ‘bird of paradise.’ Maybe one will be less adventurous and remain until Rufina no longer needs a governess.”
“How will you travel? I wouldn’t feel right about letting you go alone.”
Knowing how Tito’s mind always focused on business, she’d anticipated this question. “Might you send Alrigo along as my escort and arrange in advance for him to visit various businesses on the return trip?”
“Good idea.” Leaning back in his chair, he ran a finger over his moustache. “I’ve been wanting to discover new outlets in the West.”
“When would you leave us?” Luisa nibbled on her lower lip.
Really…she wanted to start on the journey tomorrow, but the practicality was, having a replacement governess arrive from Italy required time. Just like when Gianna sailed on her trans-Atlantic voyage. “Is a month too soon?”
~oOo~
Tonight was his deadline. Gianna arrived tomorrow, and he needed to inform his family. Less than a day’s notice probably wasn’t considerate, but he wanted to avoid lectures from his mother. He entered the dining room and slipped into his chair.
Mother reached for the plate of veal cutlets.
“Could we discuss something before we start serving?” Blake fidgeted with the edge of the cloth napkin covering his thighs.
“What is it, son?” Mother withdrew her hand.
Blake glanced between his brother and mother. “On tomorrow afternoon’s train, a woman who I’ve been corresponding with will arrive.”
“What?” Mother sat upright, her eyes wide. “Who? How did you meet?”
“Really?” Axton braced his chin with a palm, a smile teasing his lips.
“I answered an advertisement from a matchmaker. I’ve invited her here to see if we get along as well in person as we did through letters.” What he didn’t share was how excited he felt about her impending arrival.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Mother reached for her water glass.
Why make this situation about her?“You must have heard of mail-order brides. This is similar.”
“Have you proposed?” Axton quirked an eyebrow.
Blake wanted to answer with details of how he felt, but that wouldn’t be fair to Gianna. “We need to get acquainted first.”
“Can you contact her? Maybe sent a telegram somewhere and tell her you’re changed your mind?” Mother covered her face with her hands. “What will people say?”
In his lifetime, she’d said a lot of tactless things, but this might be the worst. He slumped back in his chair. “You’re more concerned about the way she and I connected than you care about the potential for my happiness?”
“Of course, that’s not what I meant. But how do I know if this woman is who you should marry?”
“After all your reminders, you should be happy I’m serious about considering a woman. I believe, at my age, I’m the one who will be making that decision about my future.” Blake leaned forward. “All I ask is for you to be welcoming.” If only Mother didn’t work against him. On his own, Blake knew he could charm Gianna.