Act Of Necessity Ch 03 04

Chapter 3 Being Careful

I talked to Francesca on the telephone during the week. My main objective was to find out what kinds of things she might enjoy on our dates. I discovered she was a big fan of the Vancouver Canucks. That ticket was a little out of my reach, but we could go to a junior hockey game for a lot less.

Francesca loved the junior hockey games and the atmosphere at Queen's Park Arena. The game was a sell-out, the crowd was lively. There was lots of scoring for an early-season game along with the usual rough and tumble antics. The management of the team really went all out to entertain and make families feel welcome. The team was new to the area and had quickly become popular.

I looked up the theatrical plays at the various playhouses in the city and made a couple of suggestions to her. She jumped at the idea, so I suggested we plan to go on Saturday night.

"My parents used to go to live plays all the time," I told her as we discussed other options. "One of the plays is at a dinner theatre. If you'd like, we could go there, have dinner and enjoy the play."

"That sounds wonderful, Dal. I'd really like that."

With that kind of enthusiasm, I set up the tickets and the reservation and planned to pick her up at her home at seven. The play would begin at nine and was a two act mystery that would last almost two hours. It wasn't inexpensive, but I was determined to see just where I could take this relationship with Francesca. I wanted to impress her with something other than the usual dinner and a movie.

After our third date, we had progressed to a little more intimate kissing, but I was being very careful not to push my luck and turn her off me.

"I have a favour to ask of you, Dal," she said as we sat with our arms around each other after a bout of kissing.

"Go ahead, ask away," I said quickly.

"Would you come to dinner at our home this Sunday?"

"Sunday? At your home? I thought that was your family day ... or whatever."

"It is. But ... I'd like my family to get to know you better."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No! Why would you think I'm kidding?"

Oh, oh. Now I was treading into dangerous ground. You see, in my mind, beautiful Italian women naturally would want to be involved with handsome Italian men. So, if Francesca was taking me to meet the family, I wasn't going to fit. Unlike her brothers, I don't have a dark Mediterranean complexion, but rather an ordinary pale one. I don't have black hair, mine is just kind of brown. My eyes are blue and I don't eat pasta every day. Hell, I'd never be welcomed into their family. I don't know a word of Italian, either. I had nothing in common with the Mariani family.

"Uhhm, they hardly know me." I admit, that was pretty lame.

"That's the whole idea, Dal. They want to get to know the guy who's dating me. That's not unusual, you know. Is there something else that's bothering you?"

"Well," I tried again, scrambling to come up with something coherent. "I'm kind of out of your ... neighbourhood, you know. I mean, I come from a different part of town."

"You mean my parents' wealth intimidates you," she said, looking a bit annoyed.

I was silent until I inexplicably said what was really on my mind.

"I thought Italian families wanted their daughters to date Italian guys."

"What?" The look on her face was one of incredulity until it melted and she began to laugh.

"Do you really believe that crap?" she finally gasped as she got over her laughing spasm.

"Well, I thought it was pretty well known," I replied, sounding even more lame.

"You've been watching The Godfather too many times," she said, this time with some irritation. "Yes, our family is from an Italian background. Yes, we all have Italian names, and yes we all speak Italian. But we've never been bigots. The only way you'll find out about our family is to spend some time with us. Oh, by the way, we aren't connected to the Mafia," she said with a disgusted look. "I'm offering you the opportunity to get to know us. Are you going to accept?"

I felt about one inch tall. I'd fallen into the stereotype trap. I had this idea that Italian families wouldn't appreciate non-Italian boyfriends. I should have remembered the first time I met her mother, father, and brothers. They were polite and friendly. There was no sign that I wasn't welcome or that I didn't belong.

"I'm sorry, Francesca. Of course I will be pleased to come to your home on Sunday. I feel like a fool for my ignorance. Please forgive me."

She was frowning at first, but that gradually changed to a soft smile.

"I forgive you. But you have a lot to learn about us. Just be yourself, Dallas Larson. That's the guy who caught my interest. You may get a surprise on Sunday afternoon."

~*~

Francesca's comment was quite correct. I did get a surprise. When I knocked on the door at the appointed three o'clock, I could hear children running and laughing. The big doors swung open and three children, two boys and a girl, each between three and five years, stood staring up at me.

"Are you Aunt Francesca's boyfriend?" the oldest boy asked. He was as blonde and blue-eyed as a Scandinavian.

"Yeah ... I guess I am," I chuckled. It never occurred to me that my girlfriend would be an aunt.

"Come on in," he said, stepping back and making way for me.

I stepped into the foyer, then moved to the great room just as Francesca appeared, smiling and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, you're right on time," she said with a big smile.

"Thank you for inviting me, Aunt Francesca," I needled.

"That will be enough out of you, Dallas," she said with mock disgust.

"Who are these three youngsters?" I asked, as they walked with us.

"The blonde-haired boy is Michael, Pete's oldest. The girl is Sherry, Fredo's daughter, and the youngest boy is Fred, Fredo's son. Come in and meet the family."

The next fifteen minutes were taken up with introductions to the entire family. There were five children present. Three belonged to Pietro and his wife, Melanie. The other two were Alfredo and Carolyn's offspring. The two youngest were both babes in arms, one each for the two married sons. It took only a moment to realize that it was unlikely either wife was of Italian heritage. I don't know if my sigh of relief was audible, but I felt it, and so did Francesca.

"See, I told you," she whispered, nudging me with her elbow.

I worked hard to remember the names of all the family members. It wasn't easy. I never did remember which baby was which, but it didn't really seem to matter. One or the other of them could be found in Grandma Mariani's lap, being lovingly rocked as she sat in her chair. The look on her face was all you needed to know that she was happy in her world and this was everything she could ever ask for.

I was reintroduced to the men in the family and my reception was just as friendly as I remembered it from our first meeting. Giovanni was probably closest to my age and we had a chance to talk. His girlfriend, Samantha, was a very attractive redhead, again unlikely to be of Italian heritage. But looks could be deceiving. It turned out her grandparents were from Turin, and she fit in well with this group. The more I socialized, the more comfortable I felt.

"Well, what do you think?" Francesca asked me some time later.

"I think I'm envious. I never had this kind of family to surround me, even when my parents were alive and my sister was living at home. Everyone here is so comfortable with each other. Thank you for this, Francesca. I'm really enjoying myself."

I got a nice kiss and a big smile as I admitted just how pleasant this whole afternoon had become.

I sat beside Mama Rosina, wanting to get to know her a little better. She was very nice to talk to, but I had to listen carefully as her English was heavily accented. Her husband, Eduardo, had mastered the language better and his accent was considerably less. None of the four offspring had any accent at all. By her appearance, I thought of her as the queen of this household, holding court over all who were present. She, like Francesca, was fairly tall and slim, with graying hair. Her posture was very upright, but it belied a very nice, quiet personality.

Little Sherry wanted to show me her drawing of the family. It was pretty primitive, with various crayon colours depicting various people. But when I asked her who was who, she knew exactly which person was represented by which figure. She surprised me by telling me that the brown stick figure on the end was me, standing next to Aunt Francesca. I thanked her very much for including me in the picture and told her it was a very good likeness. That seemed to satisfy her and she ran off to do some more colouring.

Michael wanted me to see his Hot Wheels, and just how fast they would scoot across the hardwood floor. I let him know that I had a lot of Hot Wheels cars when I was younger, but I disappointed him when he found out I didn't have them anymore. However, he did want to tell me all about the five cars he had with him and all the ones he had at home. He was just starting first grade and he said he liked it so far. He met lots of kids and made lots of new friends, except for Bobby somebody or other, who didn't like him. He didn't know why.

As I interacted with the children, I saw a smile on both Mama Rosina and Francesca. I wondered what they might be thinking. For me, this was something quite different and very pleasant. I was in the presence of family, something I missed and, in fact, something I never had. Ours was a small family and scattered around the country when my parents were still alive. A family gathering might have included Darlene, my maternal grandparents, and my mother's sister. The Mariani family was a dozen strong, not including me or Samantha of course, nor did it include any grandparents. It was hard to compare the two families, but I couldn't help but think just how different the two were.

The wives, Mama Rosina, and Francesca served the meal while Papa Eduardo decanted the wine. The children were all at the giant table in the big dining room, and that included the two babies, who were happily ensconced in their high chairs between their mother and father. Eduardo sat at the head of the table, of course, while Mama sat at the other end, closest to the kitchen.

I had Francesca on one side of me and Giovanni's girlfriend, Samantha, on the other. I was in the middle of a girlfriend sandwich, but the talk always seemed to include me, one way or another. Sam, as she was usually called, was a student at Simon Fraser and enjoyed comparing notes with Francesca, and me when she found out I'd spent a couple of years at UBC. My girlfriend said nothing about my illicit status, which was a relief. I did wonder who at this table knew of that two year segment of my life.

With all the food on the table, Eduardo was tasked to say Grace. It was in English, and very much like I remember my grandmother's version from years ago. When he finished, the mayhem began. I watched as this happy chaos got rolling and, in spite of not knowing what was expected of me, when someone passed me a dish or a plate of food, I took some and passed it on. By the time all the food had been passed around, I had enough food on my plate for two meals.

"You must be hungry," Sam said quietly.

"Uhhm ... well ... I might have gotten a little carried away," I admitted. "It all looks so good."

"I've never figured out why this whole family doesn't weigh five hundred pounds each when I come to dinner here," she giggled.

I leaned over and whispered, "Maybe they don't eat for the rest of the week."

She laughed aloud and that got various people's attention. I was sure I was red-faced in embarrassment, hoping no one would ask what the joke was. Happily, no one did.

The food was marvellous and some of it was new to me. While there were a couple of traditional pasta dishes, there was also seafood, thinly cut veal, and a prosciutto ham dish that I wish I'd had room for another helping. I somehow managed to finish everything on my plate, but my joke about not eating for a week seemed far more likely now.

"That was amazing, Signora," I said, addressing my comment to Mama Rosina. I had made the effort to look up some simple Italian words that I could use without worrying about having to speak the language.

"Thank you, Signore Larson. It was a pleasure to serve you," she replied in a warm voice.

I got a nudge from Francesca and she whispered in my ear, "I can't believe you ate the whole thing."

"Pass the Alka Seltzer," I said, recalling the old commercial line.

That brought about a laugh from my girlfriend as I sat sated in my chair, praying there wouldn't be a dessert. No such luck. However, no one took offense that I chose not to have any. It looked sweet and heavy and I couldn't have handled it if I was forced to.

The ladies cleared the table afterwards while the men retired to the billiard room at the far end of the home. Eduardo lit a big cigar while Pietro ... or Pete ... served a small glass of a sweet after dinner wine. We chatted for a few minutes before Fredo and Giovanni suggested a game of snooker. I begged off, still feeling stuffed and a little down for some reason. I left the room and wandered into the great room alone. I found a comfortable chair and sat, lost in my thoughts.

I was thinking of my parents. I was also thinking of my lost relationship with my sister. We had so little left in the way of family that I was acutely aware of just how close this family was. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I could feel tears trickle down my cheek. For the moment, I was glad I was alone. It wasn't to last.

I felt her presence before I saw her. Mama Rosina had come into the room and sat in a chair near me. She was smiling, although I was sure she could see my tears.

"What troubles you, Dallas?"

I didn't answer right away. I wasn't sure just how honest I wanted to be. I sighed and turned to her.

"Have you ever been lonely? I mean, with no one at all near you. No mother, no father, no sister, no grandparents? No? You are so fortunate, Signora. You have this wonderful family. Your sons and daughters, your grandchildren. I'm sorry if I am spoiling your evening. This is all new to me. I've never had a big family, and the one I had has been taken away from me. My parents, my grandmother, even my sister. I guess it all hit me tonight. I'm sorry for my behaviour."

She was shaking her head. "No ... no ... Dallas, do not apologize. I understand. You are right. I ... we ... are very fortunate. We live in this beautiful home in this beautiful city and we are surrounded with love. I will never deny our blessings. Someday you will marry and be with someone who will help you make a new family."

"I was so used to getting up in the morning and my mother would be there to make breakfast or at least make sure I ate properly," I said quietly. "My father would go off to work when I went to school. When I came home, my mother would be there and my father would be home in time for dinner. She always cooked a proper meal, even on weekends. When we had dinner, we talked. It didn't matter what the subject was, we talked.

"Now, I get up in the morning, and there is no one, just me. I come home from work and there is no one. The house is silent because I am the only one there. Sometimes I turn on the radio just to hear something besides myself."

We sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke once more.

"Do you believe in God, Dallas?"

I shook my head. "No. We weren't a very religious family. I went to Sunday school when it was little, but ... after that ... nothing."

"You are never alone if you are with God. I go to the church sometimes just to feel his presence. Just to feel that I am not alone. Our children are grown now and all but Francesca live in their own homes. Even Giovanni will be gone soon. This day, Sunday, is very important to me because it reminds me how God has blessed me and this family. As long as I am alive, I want this one day to be for our family."

"I understand, Signora. I am very grateful that I have been allowed to be with you today."

"You are a nice young man, Dallas. Francesca has chosen well. You are welcome in our home," she smiled, getting up before leaning over and kissing my cheek. "Remember, God is always with you."

I stood as I felt tears form once more. I wiped them away as she left to return to the others. I stayed where I was until I had composed myself. I walked back to toward the billiard room, feeling much better. My conversation with Rosina Mariani had lifted my spirits and settled me. I was welcome in this home and that meant a great deal to me.

Chapter 4 A Part of the Family

My conversation with Mama Rosina began a procession of Sundays that were spent at the Mariani home. There had been some kind of conversation between Francesca, her mother and probably her father. It was assumed that I would be there if it was at all possible. What was a bit disconcerting was that Carl understood that as well. The upshot of this was that was being even more careful of my behaviour around Francesca. I wanted nothing to cause a problem between us and her family. It took a member of her family to straighten me out.

"Dal, do you have time for lunch on Saturday?" Giovanni asked when he called on Friday evening.

"Yeah ... sure. What's up?"

"Nothing special. Just thought we should get together before I have to leave."

"Okay. Where?"

"How about the Marina Pub in Richmond."

"Okay, that's not too far from the restaurant. I'm off at noon, so I'll be there before twelve-thirty. That okay?"

"See you then. Take care."

I worked five weekdays from seven until three or so, and a half-day Saturday from seven until noon. Giovanni lived at home, but obviously didn't want to meet there. Francesca and I were going out Saturday night as we usually did. I was curious what this meeting was about.

When I walked into the pub, I spotted Giovanni almost right away and was surprised to see Sam sitting with him.

"Hi," I said, sliding into the booth. "Nice to see you Sam."

"Hi, Dal. Glad you could come."

"So ... what did you want to talk about?" I asked, looking from one to the other.

"It's about Francesca," Giovanni began, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh oh," I immediately thought, "this won't be good."

"So ... what about Francesca?" I asked carefully

"How serious about her are you?" Gio asked.

I gave them what must have been a questioning look. "I'm serious about her ... but ... I'm being very careful. I know I'm out of my element with her. I'm kind of walking on eggshells, I guess. I don't want to upset her or you ... the family, I mean."

"Okay, that's pretty much what we guessed," Gio smiled. "So here's the problem, Dal. She's falling in love with you."

"What! In love with me? How can that be?"

Samantha laughed. "I told you, Gio. He's got no clue."

"You're right, I don't have a clue," I agreed.

"Look, we're here because we like you and think you're just the guy for my sister," Giovanni said. "But there's some stuff you should know about."

"What stuff?" I asked, wondering where the hell this was going.

"She's had a bad experience with a boyfriend. Actually, I shouldn't call him a boyfriend. He was a guy she met at a dance and he started calling her for a date. She finally said okay and went out with him. Once was enough. He was all over her and didn't take no for an answer. He didn't rape her, but he certainly mauled her."

"You, on the other hand, haven't touched her according to her," Sam jumped in. "On top of that, you treat her with respect and show a genuine liking for the family. Everything we know about you says you're a good guy. Now ... Fran is telling me she's fallen in love with you."