It was a world of change. The old rules were being broken every day. There was a time when your husband died and your life was over. The only thing you were good for was cooking, cleaning and watching the grandchildren when they arrived.
Maria Theresa was forty-two years old the year Nick died. He pushed a young man out of the way of a falling pallet of boxes on the loading dock, and it hit him instead. He was an instant hero and she was alone.
Maria Theresa’s problem was she didn’t feel old. Didn’t think she was a used up old widow good only for babysitting grandchildren. Night was especially hard on her, that's when she cried for her Nick. The pleasures the night had always brought them. No matter what the day, how they fought, night was time for making up and for love. Often times with tears silently falling down her cheeks, she would touch herself as Nick had touched her. Remembering his hands, his sweet mouth touching her, she would dream and sweet release would come only then could she sleep. The light of day always dawned and she always felt cheated. The dreams were never the same as a warm loving man in your bed.
The children were almost grown. Two were already on their own, one soon to follow, three huge hulking sons. They tried to be gentle and to take their papa’s place, but it was impossible. She had lots of family, lots of friends but when it got dark, the lights went out, and it was time for bed, she was alone.
She wore black and cried for over a year, and for all that time Anthony Casanova watched and waited. He loved Maria Theresa, had since they were in grade school together, but Nick was the only man she had ever noticed.
Slowly he started talking to her, a hello with a smile here, a nice afternoon there. It made him feel good to see her smile back, and seem for just a few minutes to be happy. Valentines Day when she walked past his flower store, he happened to be out cleaning the sidewalk.
“Hey, Maria Theresa, come into the store for a minute.”
She did, and he gave her one perfect budding peach rose.
“I don’t want to presume, but a lovely lady like you should have a flower on such a day.”
He smiled as she blushed and took the flower with a nice “Thank you Anthony”
He kissed her cheek and told her it was a valentine’s tradition. He asked her, "You wouldn't want my business to go bad would you?' He laughed when he made her giggle. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
Anthony was a big man, over six-foot tall and heavy, a good Italian eater. He had dark hair and piercing eyes, he had never married but it wasn’t because the women didn’t swarm over him. All Anthony had ever wanted was Maria Theresa. Never married he yearned for a home and family. Maria Theresa was grateful for his flirting he made her feel like a woman again.
The week, after he gave her the flower, she went shopping for new clothes it was time to shed her black clothes. Maria bought many pretty things in colors from red to peach to lime green. She went to see Anthony wearing a peach dress with high-heeled sandals. She stopped in with a plant from her house, that was wilted and sad looking.
“Anthony” she called as the bell on his front door jingled.
He popped his head out and almost grinned with the pleasure of her visit.
“What can I do for you Maria Theresa, and let me tell you your enough to take a man’s breath away in that dress.”
She dimpled and blushed but swirled around to show him all of it. He found it delightful. She asked him about the plant. He promised to take it and see if he could rescue it for her, and then swallowed hard and said,
“Would you consider going out to dinner with me some night?”
She shook her head yes and then replied.
“Saturday night I have a wedding to attend would you like to go with me?”
He nodded almost speechless. “It would be an honor. Is that the DeAngelo wedding?” She said it was, and he said he was invited as well. He would pick her up at her house at six. She agreed and for the rest of the day, everyone who saw either one of them wondered why they were so happy.
