The Inheritance: Chapter 5 - Part II (Updated 11/14)
CuriousSimmer:
The Inheritance
Chapter 3 - Part III
March 1964
While I was meeting a new neighbor, my friend Angela Giorelli was waiting for a surprise from her niece, Eva. And what a surprise it was...
Angela was quite pleased with the way that Eva Giorelli had turned out. Her mother had never really recovered from the death of her father to the point where she could take over responsibility for her daughter. Just the same, Angela was happy to Eva now that her husband was indisposed. It was true that she despised the man even more, having been informed by Eva that it was indeed Giovanni who tried to kill her, but he had at least been someone to talk to.
Angela glanced at her watch, then called out, "Eva, come on. What's the big surprise?"
Eva came out of her bedroom and walked around the couch to sit adjacent to her aunt. Angela was extremely taken aback. "What's this?" she asked, gesturing at Eva's novice's habit. "Is this a joke?"
"No, Aunt Angela," said Eva quietly. She had been demure and sad, Angela had noticed, since her friend Marco Moretti had gone away to the priesthood. "I've decided to join a nunnery and I would not like to argue about it."
"But...are you sure?" asked Angela.
"Yes, I am. Only God can offer the peace I need," Eva said. Angela was somewhat shocked at the serious demeanor of her niece. It was a definite change from her care-free, fun-loving and (Eva thought) somewhat irresponsible predeliction to fool around with her sweetheart Marco.
Angela didn't argue. She simply told her niece as she walked her out to the waiting car that her home would always be open for her and to please write.
"Thank you, Aunt Angela. God be with you."
Eva ducked into the car.
"And with you also," said Angela.
That night, over dinner, I gave Dante the rundown on our family which, by now, was somewhat farflung. Josephine was away at college studying drama and making good grades.
Marco had decided to join the priesthood after all, though his resolve to do so had ebbed and flowed (with the continued presence of Eva Giorelli, though that was a detail I neglected to mention to Dante) up until the last minute.
Dante gave me a briefing on his activities in Rome (though I was to find out later that this list excluded certain extracurricular activities): he was serving on a few different committees, even being a Vice Chairman of one of them. "A few decades and I could be chairman," he said proudly.
"I have no doubt, darling," I told him, giving him a smile that I didn't quite feel. After all, he had only been in government for two years and already he was hardly home. But I refused to put the damper on his ambitions and earn his resentment. "But I bet you'll get on the cabinet before then."
After dinner, Dante cleared the table and helped me wash the dishes. "I wanted to ask you something," he murmured to me. "Chiara--Ms. Castelli, my Chief of Staff?--thinks it's time to start fundraising."
"Oh, really?" I asked absently, setting a dish in the dishrack. "What does Chiara suggest?"
"An event. I was hoping, to keep costs low, to host it here." He looked at me sidelong.
"Yes," I said. "Why not? I'll need some time to prepare, so...when is it?"
"September."
"That's certainly long enough to plan. I'll start planning the menu now."
Later that night, we were watching the television with Andre and Lara. During one of the commercial breaks, Andre turned to Dante and I and said, "I want a car."
"What?" asked Dante. "A car of your own?"
"Yes, why not?"
"I don't see any reason why not," Dante confessed. "Where are you going to get the money?"
"Well, I was hoping..."
I gave a chuckle. "No, sir. Your brother and sister never got a car. If you want one, you'll have to find a job."
"You'd be okay with that?" asked Andre.
"Why not?" asked Dante.
"I'll start looking tomorrow."
Halfway into the news broadcast, Dante stood and announced that he had to get going in order to be on time for his meeting. "You have a meeting?" I asked, lulled from my near dozing next to him.
"Yes, didn't I say? With Flavio and Modesto." He got his coat and walked to the door. I followed him, kissed him goodbye, and watched him walk off into the night.
That night I lay awake, unable to sleep. I watched the minutes tick to hours until I heard the door downstairs open and close, and footsteps on the stairs. A moment later Dante came in to find me with a book in my hands and the light on. It was just past ten.
"How was the meeting?" I asked conversationally, not looking up from the book.
"Productive," said Dante as he went into the bathroom. I heard the water running and a few moments later he came back to lay next to me.
"What time are you driving back to Rome tomorrow?" I asked as we settled in bed.
"Probably eight o'clock. Not later than nine." He kissed me on the cheek and turned on his side. "Good night, Betty."
"Good night, Dante."
The following morning...
After bundling the children off to school, Dante packed his small suitcase and loaded it into the car. I went out with him with a basket of cookies I got up early to bake for his road trip.
"Have a safe trip," I told Dante. "Call me when you get there?"
"I will," he promised and hugged me. He released me and I watched him get into the car. As he drove off, I found myself standing in the shadow of a big, empty villa, alone.
Alone again.
defenderp123:
love this story (and the quick updates), post again soon, i already look forward to it
Glamily:
i luv this story.. You must update soon
Zorom:
Mysterious. What was that stuff about Grant? More updates!
CuriousSimmer:
The Inheritance
Chapter 3 - Part IV
May - June 1964
After visiting the Esposito family later in the week they moved in, I knew that I had to do what I could to provide the family with what motherly attentions I could, for Giorgia's sake. The death of her mother had left them without a decent cook. So I had resolved to have them over for dinner.
And, of course, I could use the company, too.
"Why Giorgia," I said happily as I opened the door to them. "How lovely you look. Do come in, please. Both of you."
It was Friday and, given the Catholicism of all parties present, I served fish.
Over dinner and over the weekly Friday dinners, our families learned things about the other.
For instance, on the first Friday I learned that Giorgia was expected to be Giorgio. But the surprise of her gender did not overrule the plans that her mother and father had for her. So she had gone to a strict military-style boarding school, played sports--in short, she had been the son her father always wanted.
The next week, I had the chance to talk about the work I had done writing, and my hopes to have a book published.
The week after that, Paolo revealed that his late wife was tied to our neighborhood--a sister of Capricia Volante.
And the next week Andre shared his desire to find a job, and Paolo promised to get him an interview with the downtown real estate company.
As much as I liked to pretend that I was reaching out to the community around me as part of my Christian duty, I was driven by selfish means. Without Josephine, Marco, or Dante to keep me company, I was lonely.
Meanwhile...
Damiano Volante was a man who enjoyed his work. He was a botanist of the finest order and was credited in half a dozen new species of flowers. He was hard at work in his laboratory creating yet another new species.
But unlike for his last projects, this was one that his wife Capricia had taken an active interest. For the third time this week, he heard Capricia's high-heeled footsteps coming up the stairs to his lab. A moment later she arrived and asked, "Is it ready yet?"
"No, dear," said Dr. Volante. "I'm afraid I've hit a metaphorical wall. My crossbreeding isn't working as well as I thought--"
Capricia waved his words away impatiently. "Spare me the bio-babble, Damiano. I'm not interested in your excuses, only your results!"
"I'm well aware," Dr. Volante replied apologetically. "I'm working as fast as I can."
"As I said: results, Doctor."
Later that week...
Once again a new family had moved into the neighborhood although this family could hardly be considered 'new'. Indeed, thirty-six years ago (twenty-one years before I came to the neighborhood), one of the people moving in had been born at this very house.
Amelia Somerset (née Waldorf) was widowed again. Her first husband had died in World War II. Her second, a London stock-broker, had had an unfortunate accident in the lift of their flat just weeks after the birth of their daughter, Andrea. Her third husband had been a loud-mouthed Irish rugby player who was killed on the field when tackled by the entire defensive line. Her fourth husband had been to the wealthy, aged Lord Sebastien Somerset, from whose death she retained a title and wealth.
Andrea had been a sickly child, unable to travel much and a constant burden to her mother's attempts to enjoy life as a young woman. But now Andrea was recognized as the asset that she was, for Lady Somerset was now a member of the nobility. Sons were good for carrying out the family name. Daughters were useful for marrying off.
But as they settled down for their first meal in a half-unpacked home, Lady Somerset thought that perhaps she would like to marry again. After all, there was something to be said about the lucky number five. But given the fate of her past husbands, just how lucky would that number be for her next husband?
Meanwhile...
While the Somersets were unpacking their belongings, Judith O'Reilly was doing what she had been doing for sustenance since her husband had fled the authorities. She cut and dyed hair in her home for a moderate fee, and so when Angela Giorelli came in deciding that it was time for a chance, Judith helped her pick out a bold choice.
But Angela's decision on a new hairstyle was nothing compared to the decision that Judith herself was contemplating.
After the haircut, Angela and Judith had a cup of coffee and Judith shared her idea with Angela: "I want to open my own salon. The area is growing quite fast and we don't really have a reliable hair-care service in town. What do you think?"
Angela, somewhat shocked but deeply impressed by her new hairstyle, offered Judith friendly encouragement. "You have a real talent, Judith, and I think you could be very successful."
And so Judith's ambitions to become an entrepreneur blossomed. What Judith didn't know, in that thrilling moment of affirmation, was that this choice was to put her and others on a collision course with a deadly foe.
Navigation
[0] Message Index
[#] Next page
[*] Previous page