Her smile fell a bit, then she shook her head. “I will not bring up your great-aunt if you are not comfortable speaking of her, but she was the same as you. Not only exceptionally beautiful, but a warm comfort as well.”
I took a seat beside her wheel, still clipping flowers. “I have so many questions about her, but I’m almost afraid of what I’m going to learn. If it’s going to be as bad as I imagine it’ll be.”
“I will not say that the truth of the story is pleasant. Your great-aunt died a very young woman with a lot of unfinished life.” She sighed. “I love my parents dearly, but times were much different back then. Even in this family. The danger of themen still remains in reflection of the family’s notorious business dealings, but the rules regarding love were not as forgiving. Back then, it was more acceptable to marry for status. This is how the men in the Fausti family rose to such high regard in society today. On the backs of women who had already been a part of high society.
“Royals, heiresses, famous musicians, actresses, dancers, all women who came from wealthy families. The men—the men who captured their eyes—were…you have seen your husband. These men looked perfectly fine on the arms of the women of my blood.”
“Do you mind if I take a guess at the situation with my great-aunt?”
“I will not make you guess,Nipote Biscottina.”
“I know, but my imagination is wild, and I’d like to know if I’ve been right. Or I want to share my thoughts so you can confirm, so I know if I’ve been wrong.”
“Sì,”she said, her voice soft.
“My family were poor in comparison to the Fausti family.”
“My dear,” she whispered. “Most of Italy and beyond is poor in comparison to the Fausti family, in monetary worth. However, your family was not poor. They were not rich either. They were comfortable. Did you know that your great-grandfather, your Nonna’s father, was a physician like my Tito?”
“No,” I whispered. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and not from the chill in the air.
Once upon a time, I thought I wanted to be a doctor too. My grandmother’s death changed that. I realized how hard it was to keep saying goodbye to people I might care about, because I knew I was going to get attached to some patients. I’d talk to their families, learn all about them, get involved. Even more heartbreaking for me would be the ones who had no one. I feltentirely too much for people like that. Maybe because without my grandparents, I would’ve been one of them.
Without my husband, I would’ve been one of them again.
That was one thing my grandmother apologized for repeatedly—that she couldn’t live forever, only to take care of me.
I shook my head and placed a yellow flower softly in the basket. “My grandmother never told me that.” My voice cracked.
“It is hard to speak of those times. Times that begin in perfection and safety, and the times after that led to loss and insecurity. War is not peace. Even for the Fausti family, it was a tremulous time. We could not predict the future. Who would be walking down the street and be killed? Who would attack us for any rations, and if they did, who would starve to death? Or freeze to death without what we needed to light the fires.” She pulled down the throw, and with gloved hands, handed me three black and white photos she had hidden underneath the blanket. “Have you ever laid eyes on Avelina before?”
“No,” I breathed out. My hands trembled as I gazed upon a woman’s face I had never seen before, but I had. It was my face in a different time.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she,Nipote Biscottina?”
My eyes glanced up, meeting Aunt Lola’s, before they returned to the photos.
The first one in the trio was a single close-up shot of my aunt. She didn’t wear a smile. She gazed at the camera as if she was trying to figure out why it was trained on her. Even though the picture was moody, I could tell she had dark hair, and it was done in the same style mine had been for the harvest celebration.
The second photo was her profile, and she was clasping a pendent. I felt for the cross, realizing she had been doing the same—to the same cross.
The third photo was taken in front of a villa or farmhouse, my aunt with a few other women. The look on my aunt’s face had changed. I could tell she was happier. She was smiling, and she had a hand on the woman’s shoulder who was stooping in front of her. She looked…free, free in a way only love could unlock.
“During such a dangerous time,” I whispered, “she had found happiness.”
“War will do that as well. Heighten everything.”
I looked up at Aunt Lola. “Do you think that’s the reason for their love? The war? Maybe they found freedom in each other during an uncertain time?”
“No. They had found the truth in love.” She looked down at the pictures. “She was so soft. As a young girl, I remember being so jealous of her. Then, I do not know, years later, when I thought about having my own children, her name came back to me.Avelina.It almost sounded like a whispered prayer to me. An answered prayer. If I would have had a girl, this would have been her name. Tito wanted Ermanno for a boy. Perhaps this is why he is taken with the Ermanno who is offering his legs and strength to an old man.” She paused for a second, before she shook her head and mumbled what I thought was…ah, well, some things are not meant to be.
She took my hand and placed it on her face. “My people…hard. Feel my bone structure?” She pushed even harder. “Hard. Even the slope of my nose is sharp. Mostly all the women of the Fausti family back then were this way. This is why our men can be so handsome for generations. The hardness of bone translates differently in men. It brings out their maleness. In women…it makes them seem stiff and rigid.
“My mamma loved us, but this is who she was. Stiff and rigid. She was the wife of the head lion. She showed us affection, however, we always knew our place in the world. When Avelina came into our lives…I found myself staring at her. I thought shefloated down from a cloud.” Aunt Lola laughed. “She was just so…soft. So soft and beautiful. Not only her outside appearance, but there was something healing about her, comforting. Perhaps…perhaps the same as the sun on a cool day, one just like this one. Not burning unless you made her mad.
“This was why she was sent to live with us. The war was growing meaner, colder, and your great-grandfather had been killed. Your grandmother was younger than Avelina, too small to work. Avelina took it upon herself to find work with our family to help her mamma, your grandmother. We had extra properties. Your great-grandmother and grandmother lived on the property as part of Avelina’s payment.
“If I remember correctly, it was Grazia, Marzio’s wife, who referred her to us. Grazia had the most beautiful bone structure, but there was a softness to her as well. More about her body, I remember. All these soft women coming around our home at a similar time. Mamma felt…mamma felt soft equaled to not strong enough for the men in the family.Ah!Back to the reason…This is why Avelina came to live with us. My grandmother needed a live-in caretaker. Avelina used to travel with your great-grandfather, and she had some medical training. I believe it was her wish to become a doctor, a healer, as well.”
