“It won’t stay. Or I’m afraid it won’t stay.”
“You need to grow up,” Calla began. Sam sat down next to her on the steps. “You’re running around acting like you can do whatever you want, without any regard for a woman’s feelings—whether it’s Peachy or this lady. What kind of a man are you?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“It’s about time you decided. Now I have to get off the phone, because I don’t want to yell at you.”
“I’m sorry, Calla.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.”
“For calling. For waking up your father.”
“Oh, right, that. I’ll tell him.”
Calla hung up the phone.
“Who was that?”
“Crazy Nicky Castone.”
“Did they figure out who he was and run him out of town?”
“No. He enchanted a woman.”
“The upside of acting on the road.”
“That’s the only upside.”
“Why’s he calling here?”
“He needed a friend. That’s what he said.”
“You’re the only one he’s got?”
“Maybe this is the only number in South Philly he could remember.”
“I doubt that. He’s all right. I like him fine.”
“You do?”
“He’s honest.”
“Not at this moment. He’s conning an entire town.”
“Maybe they need to suspend their disbelief for a moment. Maybe they have their reasons. People need to believe in a man sometimes, even when he is not what was advertised.”
“Dad, you don’t have to worry about me. I have good judgment. I’m going to marry Frank Arrigo.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
“Do you love him?”
“I wouldn’t marry a man I didn’t love.”
“So there’s your answer.”
“Am I allowed to have doubts?”
“I wish you didn’t.”
“I want to be secure. Frank will give me that.”
“The thing about security, it’s all well and good if the person that makes you feel that way is the person you love. All the money in the world can’t make you secure, but all the love in the world can. Funny how that works. Do you want to build a life with him?”
“I want to build a theater with him. He wants to renovate Borelli’s and turn it into the showplace it was when you were a boy.”
“Good for him. He’s young. He has the energy.” Sam pulled himself up by the banister and turned to go upstairs. As he climbed, he said,
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done . . .
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
“Really, Dad? Cymbeline?”
“It’s all I can remember. You get what you get. Good night, Calla.”
“Night, Dad.”
Calla crawled into bed. She pulled the blankets and sheets around her and nestled into the pillows. She wished she hadn’t told her father she wanted to marry Frank. He didn’t seem too keen on it, or maybe he wasn’t because it was four o’clock in the morning, and at this hour who could be enthusiastic about anything? Maybe once the blueprints were done, her father would be excited about the possibilities of Frank joining the family.
*
Minna stood in her living room with Hortense. She looked out the window through the heavy lace curtains.
“I’m so glad you got a sunny day for the finale.”
“The ambassador will make his speech, and off we’ll go.” Hortense turned to face her hostess. “Minna, I never slept as well as I have in the apartment over your garage.”
“I’m glad.”
“And the food you prepared was so delicious. The macaroni. The frittata for breakfast. And I don’t know what that dessert was in the little ceramic dish—”
“Panna cotta.”
“I may have to let this skirt out when I get home.” Hortense tugged at the waistband. “I know I will.”
“We had so much fun.”
“And I’m so grateful for the gravy recipe.”
“You make it and think of me.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Share it with as many people as you can.”
“We have a healthy two hundred and seventy-eight members at my church.”
“Beyond your church.”
“Sometimes we do have an ecumenical gathering. Tri-state. We make a bus trip. I could serve it at the interfaith service. We do a dinner.”
“Beyond even that.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Minna.”
“I think you may have found your purpose.”
“Chile, I am not opening an Italian restaurant.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then what are you talking about? If you know my purpose, why won’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know it. It will come to you. All you will have to do is recognize it.” Minna placed a string of turquoise and green and yellow beads around Hortense’s neck.
“These are for you.”
“You don’t have to give me a present.”
“I want you to remember our visit. They are magnificent on you.”
“They are my colors.”
“This is my purpose,” Minna admitted.
“You don’t say.”
“I make jewelry from Venetian glass beads. They came from the island of Murano, close to Venice.”
“I’ll wear them every day.”
“Someday, go to Italy. To Venice. You must see it for yourself. The blue in this glass reminds me of the sky there. And the gold, the architects used on the trim of the palazzos. You see it shimmer in the sun as it reflects off the water in the canals, and you think anything is possible.”
“When I’m with you, I know anything is. Minna, will you come with me to the grandstand today?”
“I can’t.”
“Would you make an exception?”
“If I was going to leave this house, I would do it for you. And of course, in honor of Mrs. Roosevelt.”
“I know that.”
Hortense picked up her suitcase and hat box and walked out the front door of Minna’s house, where Nicky waited for her at the curb in the sedan. He jumped out to help Hortense with her bags.
Hortense turned to wave to Minna one last time, but the front door was closed, the curtains covered the window glass, and she was gone.
*
Nicky and Hortense sat on the grandstand at the top of Garibaldi Avenue as the Pius X High School Marching Band played “God Bless America.” From their perch, the village of Roseto looked like the opening number of a spectacular musical. Colors exploded on flags, banners, and balloons, and in gardens where daisies, roses of Sharon, and peonies burst open in glorious pink and red. The sun dazzled like a spotlight in the clear blue sky against the rooftops made of blue and gray slate that matched the sky no matter its mood, no matter the weather.
The entire town of Roseto had turned out for the finale of the celebration, to witness the ambassador’s farewell and the blessing on the town by Father Leone, followed by the Jubilee Parade, the finale of the celebration.