Chapter 7
Camillo Vicari
Castello dell’Fiero, Calabria, Italy
Twelve years ago
Madonna…
Valentina Messina looked like the spitting image of a saint.
She wore her thick hair loose like a veil, falling to her waist in a cascade of curls, and her sinuous curves were wrapped in a short white dress covered in sequins and fringes.
Every movement of her long legs made her dress rustle, as if she was performing a slow dance.
I smirked the moment I noticed her toes peeking through the simple high-heeled sandals, realizing she painted her nails hot pink. The color my mother hated most in the world.
Ah, yes. My married life was going to be quite interesting.
“Tesoro,” I murmured, greeting her with a kiss on the lips. “Stai bellissima.”
She flashed her huge, immaculate smile, and my knees went weak.
“I return the compliment,” she replied, smoothing the lapel of my midnight-blue blazer. “Armani?”
“I promised I would dress to the nines.”
She nodded, a touch of pride in her manner, and turned around, motioning for her parents to come over, who had just greeted my entire famiglia, from Uncle Ricardo to Grandma Renata.
“Concetta. Cesare,” I said politely, greeting my future in-laws. As usual, I received an effusive hug from each of them.
I liked the Messina couple for the precise reason my mother couldn't trust them or Valentina. They were people with a simple, seemingly perfect life. They followed common moral values and separated right from wrong with absurd simplicity. And that, sometimes, could be refreshing.
“Camillo, everything looks beautiful! If I had known it was going to be so extravagant, I would have bought a new suit for the occasion!”
“Nonsense, Cesare. You look great! It's just a special dinner.” I said and winked knowingly at my future father-in-law, whose eyebrows immediately shot up to his hairline. Which was saying a lot, because Professor Cesare was balder than an egg.
“Ohhhh. A ‘special dinner’. Sounds good to me!”
“Let's go in then!”
The dinner started pleasantly, with jazz playing in the background to lighten the mood and my father and uncle socializing with Professor Cesare and his wife.
Nonna and Nonno also chimed in from time to time, adding nostalgic stories about the famiglia Vicari to the conversation, while my brother and cousin livened things up with their bawdy jokes. However, my mother...
Nonno sat at the head of the table, directly under the painting of Giuseppe and Rosa.
To his right were Nonna Renata, with her fluffy white curls and cheeks flushed from wine, and Zio Ricardo, Zia Giovanna, and my cousin Lorenzo, followed immediately by Valentina, sitting right in front of me, and Cesare and Concetta.
To his left were my father, my mother, my brother Mario, and me.
But even with the seating arrangement deliberately organized to prevent tensions from escalating, my mother's silence was palpable.
I followed Zia Giovanna's worried gaze and realized that Mamusia wasn't looking up from her plate, breaking apart a sushi roll with her fork and sighing every time Professor Cesare or his wife spoke. I immediately grabbed the glass of white wine, downing it in one gulp.
I needed that dinner to go well.
The conversations continued, and Valentina and I decided to share with everyone some of the plans we had made regarding our future.
Thanks to the LL.M. in U.S. Law she completed with honors at the University of Mississippi—the famous Ole Miss—she was offered a position as Assistant District Attorney, which required her to relocate to Jackson, the capital of Mississippi.
And that was what we were planning to do.
Move to the United States as soon as we could.
Upon hearing the news, Valentina's parents were delighted with the idea of their daughter holding an important position in a country such as the United States of America.
However, there was a certain restraint from my famiglia.
They tried to appear enthusiastic, even congratulating Valentina, but the scowl on Nonno Patrizio's face was enough for me to understand that he was not pleased with the news.
“Does that mean I'll have American nephews one day?” my brother joked, but I could also hear the apprehension in his voice as well.
Valentina laughed. “If you have nephews, I guess so!”
“‘If’?” my Nonna asked in her outraged little voice. “What do you mean ‘if,’ ragazza?! I want great-grandchildren!”
Valentina exchanged a look with her mother for a fraction of a second, but the gesture did not go unnoticed.
“Nonna Renata, with my career, having children can be challenging.”
“Camillo knows about that?” My mother's question cut through the air. The jazz continued to play softly, but no one moved or spoke.
No. I didn't know about that detail. Until that moment, my plans with Valentina involved marriage and children. Still, I cleared my throat and clung to my pride.
“Of course, Mamusia.” I lied, and Valentina gave me a relieved smile. “Children are a possibility, but...” I took a deep breath. Love requires sacrifice, I reminded myself. “...we'll have to wait and see if Vale's career will allow us to do so.”
My mother didn’t add anything else. I thanked Dio for that, even though I knew there would be more to say once the guests left the villa. So, I got up and walked around the table. I extended a hand that Valentina took immediately and pulled her away from the sits, dropping to one knee.
“But before thinking about children, there is something more important to do,” I declared, ending any doubts or protests right there.
Valentina was the woman I had chosen. It wasn't whether or not to have children, to stay in Italy or move to the United States, that would sway me.
“Valentina Messina...” I took the burgundy velvet box out of my pocket and opened it before her eyes.
“...will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Her smile was the loveliest thing I had ever seen. It spread wide, accompanied by her dark eyes, fixated on the stone that filled her face with a hundred sparkles.
“YES, YES, YES!” She squealed and stretched a trembling hand toward me. I put the ring on her finger, watching her admire it with tears in her eyes.
I threw the box aside, pulling Valentina into my arms, and squeezed her tightly as I lifted her into the air.
My cousin and my brother whistled, my in-laws, my uncles, and my father clapped and wished us prosperity and happiness.
But when I put Valentina down and took her hand to show everyone the huge ring on her finger, I was met with my grandfather's undeniable disapproval and a bitter smile on my mother's and my Nonna's lips.
My mother got up and walked around the table, stopping in front of us. Before I could react, her arms stretched out and hugged Valentina tightly, leaving everyone stunned.
“Welcome to the family.”