Here’s where I found your name.
Valentine
An angel from heaven
I love you forever
Your husband Kevin
“I don’t know. It made me smile and then I laughed. It was a silly little poem but it meant something to me. And tonight I know why. I’ll be damned if it didn’t come true. You have made me smile and laugh all of your life. And now, another man will know that joy. Take care of my Valentine, Gianluca.” Dad raised his glass.
“Or he’ll make you replace his gutters in Forest Hills,” Tom said.
“Salute!” As my family toasted us, I felt my past meet my future. I was drunk with happiness, but then again, it could have been the Asti Spumante.
Y ou would think after the Feast of Seven Fishes, sweet timbale, cannolis, and cookies that we wouldn’t have any more room to stuff down one more bite. But our family wasn’t done eating until the overflowing nut bowls, nutcrackers, and silver picks had been placed on the dining room table. Somehow, there was always room for nuts.
“I’m going to have to cut off this dress with pinking shears,” my mother said. “I always say I’m not going to overindulge, but then I just can’t resist.” She daintily unwrapped another Baci kiss from the dessert tray before taking a bite.
Aunt Feen pulled a nut bowl toward her. She picked through until she’d found the walnuts, lined them up on the tablecloth in front of her, and commenced cracking them. “So you think this will be your only marriage?”
“My one and only,” I assured her.
“Uh-huh.” Aunt Feen cracked a Brazil nut. “Italian Stallion here is already on wife number two, so don’t count on it.”
“Aunt Feen!”
“Go on. Be indignant. Giancarlo, how many times you been married?”
“ Luca ,” Mom corrected her. “Gian luca .”
“This will be my second marriage.” Gianluca actually blushed.
“At your age, I guess we should count ourselves lucky that you only have one under your belt. But I never liked sloppy seconds, not for myself or my grandniece. You’re besmirched.”
“He is not!” Tess rushed to defend him and me.
“Tell it to the bishop. How you gonna get married in church with a divorce on your record?”
“I have an annulment. My ex-wife remarried in the church.”
“Oh, so you have connections. Cut a check for your freedom. That’s what it takes. Soldi . Let’s not forget the soldi . You pay mother church, and mother church sets you free. What a racket.”
“Aunt Feen, we’re not that kind of Catholic,” my father said.
“He is.” Feen snapped her nutcracker in Gianluca’s direction. “Wake up, Dutch.”
Before my father could respond, my fiancé spoke up. “I’m not perfect, Aunt Feen.”
“You got that right, mammone . You know what a mammone is? That’s a kid who lives with his parents when he’s old enough to be one himself.”
“It’s true. I was a bamboccione .” Gianluca took one of Feen’s walnuts and cracked it open.
“You understand that over here in America, you’re only forty and living at home if you’re feeble.”
“Aunt Feen!” My mother was horrified.
“In Italy, it’s different,” Gianluca explained. “It helped me to be with my father when I went through a terrible time. I was married for many years and lived with my father after the divorce. The only thing I know for sure about marriage is that what was right when I was twenty-one wasn’t so great at forty. Can you understand that?”
“The man I love was killed in the war, so I wouldn’t know. I never knew happiness after that. I was robbed, and the purse has remained empty ever since. I have a barren heart.”
“You had a second chance at happiness. You loved Tony when you married him,” Gram reminded her.
“I faked it because he had a nice car.”
“Could we change the subject? I actually liked Uncle Tony,” Mom said.
“You would.” Feen cracked a nut. “I liked his Bel Air town car. That wound up being his best feature.”
“At least you came
Learning to Kill: Stories