The Queen of the Big Time by Adriana Trigiani Read Free Book Online Page A

years,” I say quietly, afraid of her reaction.
    “Seven years? He’s twenty-one! That’s old.”
    “I know. It’s hopeless.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Renato Lanzara.”
    “You love Renato Lanzara?” Chettie grins. I notice she likes to say his name aloud as much as I do.
    “Why? Do you know him?”
    “Every girl in Roseto is in love with him. Probably every girl in Bangor, West Bangor, Pen Argyl, and Martins Creek too. I might as well warn you now, the Martins Creek girls are very determined. Marcajohn , you know Roman Italians. They are tough. You picked a real popular boy.”
    “Of course I did. It makes an impossible situation worse, which is something I’m very good at.”
    “Now you have to come to church with me.”
    “To pray that these impure thoughts leave me?”
    “No, because you’ll see him there. Sometimes Renato sings with the choir. He sounds like an angel,” Chettie promises.
    I wish I had money for the trolley today, because I can’t get home fast enough. Miss Ciliberti posted our marks, and mine were the best in the class. She gave the students a big speech about how I come from a farm and had no access to books and learning and yet somehow figured out how to learn anyway. She said, “If Nella Castelluca can do it, anyone can.” I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud. Finally, something I am good at. Finally, something I can have that is all my own.
    By the time Assunta and I reach the farm, it is dark outside. Mama has lit the lamp on the porch, and we can hear laughter from the kitchen as we climb the steps.
    Elena meets us at the door. “Hurry! Papa has good news!”
    Assunta and I follow her to the kitchen.
    “What is it, Pop?” Assunta puts her satchel down and sits on the bench. In this light, Assunta is looking older; she has dark circles from the long hours at the factory. I hope Alessandro gets here quickly, before Assunta’s beauty hits the rocks.
    “I got a contract with Hellertown markets. They have four stores, and I am going to provide their eggs and milk. They came out to see me, and took one look at our Holstein cows and said, ‘Mr. Castelluca, you got the job.’ There are lots of farmers around, and they give out many contracts, but after years of trying, I finally got one.”
    “Congratulations, Papa!” I throw my arms around him. No more hitching the wagon and taking his milk and eggs around to beg vendors to buy his supply. And no more disappointment when he returns with most of what he was trying to sell.
    “They are coming in with modern machinery and will set me up,” Papa continues. Mama stands back and smiles. “It will be a lot of work, but at least we will reap the benefits of it. I may even have to hire some help.” Mama claps her hands together when she hears this. I am sure she would like to sleep late for once in her life and not worry about milking the cows before they start their mooing at dawn.
    “Well, Papa, you’re not the only one with good news. I got my marks,” I tell my parents proudly.
    “How did you do?” Mama asks.
    “I’m first in my class.”
    “Good. Good.” Mama looks down the report card. “Look, Papa.”
    “Maybe someday we can afford the trolley for my girls.” Papa smiles.
    “Just on Sundays, Pop,” I tell him.
    “Why Sundays?”
    “I want to go to Mass.”
    “Mass?” Papa is surprised.
    “You heard her.” Mama smacks Papa gently with my report card. “Mass. She wants to go to church. We should all go to church. And we’ll have no excuse if you hire some help around here.” Mama looks at me. “Good for you.”
    Mama is a good Catholic; she prays the rosary every night, baptized us all, and makes us say grace before meals. She is reverent, but has never made Papa feel bad that chores take precedence over Sunday Mass. Mama thinks God understands the workingman and his duties. In the spirit of helping the family, I promise Papa that I will walk to Mass on Sundays. “Save the money,” I tell