The Train to Orvieto

by Novelli, Rebecca J. ;

  “You don’t really need to think about it because I’m leaving. But since you are thinking about it, what do you think?”

  It was true that in just a few weeks I had come to care for Joey very much. I looked for him the way one looks for another part of oneself, cherished him and the way I felt when I was with him. In Orvieto no one called this love or thought it a reason to marry. Could love be anything other than what it had always been: a man and a woman pledged to one another to create a family in the ways of the place where they had always lived? I had forsaken that life. Changed. Must I tell Joey that I don’t love him because this love isn’t what I thought love was? The waiter brought us a plate of amaretti with our espressos. Couldn’t love be several things at once like history?

  “We might never be together,” I said. “We wouldn’t have any more than what we have right now.”

  “All I know is that I’ve loved you since that day when you first told me about James Dean. You cared so much about someone you didn’t know. I want someone—you—to care about me that way.” Joey needed me just as much as I needed him. I smiled at him. He took my hand. “You don’t hate the idea, then?”

  “No.”

  “Fina, we have more now than some people ever have. Worst case, you’ll make a soldier happy and you’d get a flag and a pension for you and the baby. I already checked. Besides, I might come back a hero. Do you like parades?” He looked at me expectantly.

  “Yes, but I don’t want a flag and a pension. Not for that reason. What about my father? If you don’t ask for a father’s blessing, it’s a great offense.”

  “Do I have to ask both of them?”

  “Yes, but Losine won’t be back until tomorrow”

  “So yes, we’ll tell them?”

  “No. First you ask their permission to marry me. If papà doesn’t give his blessing, I’ll probably lose my inheritance if I haven’t already. Losine? I don’t know.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Papà said he didn’t want me to come back to Orvieto, so I probably have no dowry at all.”

  “That makes two of us. Is that all?”

  “He might not receive us.”

  “In that case I wouldn’t have to ask him for his blessing, right?” I didn’t say anything. “Fina, the baby would be legitimate.” My racing thoughts stopped. A soldier’s wife. A widow with a pension. “Maybe you should think about it a little more.” Joey moved his chair closer to mine. He put his arms around me and kissed me lovingly. And then I returned his kiss. “How about this?” he said. “After we have dinner, you can tell me your decision.” He looked at his watch. “It’s six o’clock now, so figure around eight thirty you can tell me yes or no.”

  “What if I’m not sure?”

  He took my hands in his and kissed my fingertips. “We can toss a coin: heads you’ll marry me. Tails, I’ll marry you.”

  27

  “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Joey said as soon as I awoke. On the floor beside the mattress the candle had burned out, leaving a waxy puddle on the plate beneath it. I turned toward him.

  “I can’t. We‘ve been making love all night.” I curled into his arms and pulled the ragged quilt up under my chin.

  “But do you want to? Change your mind, I mean?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I have a surprise for you.” He sat up. “Because you’ve answered the question-of-the-day correctly, you’ve won cappuccino and brioche.” He applauded. “Last one up doesn’t get any.” I pushed him down and scurried out of his bed. Before he could catch me, I dashed into the little bathroom and locked the door.

  “I want all of the brioche!” I called. “I’m hungry.”

  He knocked on the door. “Let me in.”

  “No!” I started the shower.

  “Why not?”

  “You’re not supposed to see me naked before the wedding.” I got into the shower and stood under the thin stream of warm water.

  “But I already did.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “It was a mistake. I have to go to confession.”

  “A mistake? No. Let me in.” I got out of the shower and opened the door slightly.

  Joey peered in at me. “When you said you would share my life, you didn’t say you were going to keep the door locked.”

  I wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door. “Joey, I think this is wrong…I was supposed to…and we’ve been….”

  “We sure have! I think we should get married today.”

  “We can’t. We need to get my fathers’ blessings first.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want, but we have to get married right away. Before I’m inducted. Without those certificates, you and the baby won’t get anything. It takes time to get that stuff, especially in Italy.”

  “Michel Losine will approve, but papà might not agree to see you or to give his blessing.”

  “Not bless his only son-in-law?”

  “I think it would be better if I went alone and told him myself.”

  “Fina, we have to get married right away.” I dropped the towel, stepped back into the shower and closed the curtain behind me. “Are you always this modest?”

  “Clearly not, but shouldn’t we have a longer engagement?” I said.

  “Well, a longer engagement could be a lot of fun, but from the looks of things, we’re going to have some fun right now.” He got into the shower and kissed me all over. “Must be your lucky day. Good thing you’re not modest.”

  In my mind, I resisted this new temptation, but my body paid no attention, and I returned Joey’s kisses.

  28

  ORVIETO, DECEMBER 1968

  “…your ticket, Signora Dunne.”

  “That’s you,” Joey whispered to me.

  I looked at the name on the ticket: Serafina M. Dunne. “It sounds foreign. Maybe if I practice writing it while we’re on the train, I’ll feel that it belongs to me by the time we get to Orvieto.”

  Joey winked at me. “By then you’ll be an American. I sent the papers.”

  We walked toward the platform. “I think I should tell papà myself first.”

  “Remember, I’m the guy you married this morning at the marriage bureau, not someone you have to hide.”

  “I remember.”

  Our ceremony just a few hours earlier had scarcely been a ceremony. “Great day for a wedding,” Joey had said, shaking Losine’s hand for the third time. Just before we left to make our vows and sign our marriage papers, Losine gave me a small, black velvet box tied with white ribbon. “To wear on your wedding day,” he said. Inside the box on a bed of white satin was a pair of earrings: tiny jewels and pearls apparently suspended from a single diamond on nearly invisible strands of gold.

  “Like confetti,” I said.

  Losine kissed my forehead. “I’ve always hoped that you would wear them on the day you married and that I would be there to see you, even if I had to hide in the belfry.” I put the earrings on. “Beautiful.” Then, we three went to the Marriage Bureau. I thought of the Duomo and of all my wedding plans. Now, I had married outside the church far from home to someone I scarcely knew. How could any bride have been more of a straniera on her wedding day?

  At the station Losine embraced both of us. “Blessings. Many blessings.”

  “Up you go, Signora Dunne,” Joey said. I climbed onto the train. We edged along the corridor to the last compartment. I settled into the green plush seat and looked out the window to where Losine stood on the platform below. He blew me a kiss and waved. Joey lifted our suitcase onto the rack. “Did you tell Gabriele that we were coming?”

  “I only said that I was coming home.” I hadn’t thought of a way to prepare papà for the truth. I tried to imagine his reaction. What if he refused to see me? “I’m going to tell papà that something unexpected happened.”

  “That about covers it.” Joey unfolded a map of Orvieto. “Show me where we’re going.” I traced our route from the station to our ho
me in town, pointed out the villa and my family’s podere. “Both of these houses belong to our family and also the vineyards around them.” I made multiple circles with my finger. “Gee, that’s a lotta property,” Joey said. “Too bad I married someone who’s been disinherited.” Outside, as the afternoon faded, clouds foretold rain.

  “I warned you.” I looked away. “Maybe I’ll just say that I’m pregnant and here’s my husband. That way, papà will know everything at once.”

  “Good idea.”

  “On the other hand, it might be better if I see him alone first, in case he gets angry. Then, you could come later after he gets over it.”

  “Definitely another possibility. Telling my father-in-law that we’re married and then watching him explode isn’t quite the way I pictured my honeymoon. Should we bring a photographer?”

  “Maybe it’s better to go together.”

  “Would you like to get married again in Orvieto so Gabriele knows for sure it’s real?” Joey said. “Or don’t they allow fallen women to get married in the church?” He winked at me. I started to cry. “Never mind. One wedding is enough for us, right? And I’ve got the proof right here.” He patted the certificate in his back pocket and then pulled me close and tried to kiss me.

  I pushed him away. “Joey, you have to let me tell papà before he meets you.” Outside raindrops slid down the window of the train and pooled against the glass.

  He looked hurt. “So who do you want me to be? Your husband or just some guy?”

  I took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  The train stopped. I drew my hand across the misted glass. Orvieto looked unfamiliar, dreamlike, a place I might have seen once long ago. The platform was wet and shiny in the rain. With a start, I saw Bruno standing there. The lights inside the train came on. I raised my hand, then put it down. Too late. Bruno had seen me. He approached the train and stood below the window, smiling and waving. I stood up on uneasy feet. “Bruno is here.”

  Joey pulled our suitcase off the rack. “Let’s go, Signora Dunne. It’s face-the-music time now.” I followed Joey along the corridor. The linoleum floor had worn through in places, revealing the splintered subflooring. Was the train this ragged when I left for Milano? In the vestibule, I waited while Joey carried our suitcase down the steps and set it on the platform.

  Bruno came and stood below me with his arms open as if he were waiting to catch me. “Fina, at last, you’ve come back to me.”

  I gripped the damp railing, not moving. “I didn’t expect you,” I said. Bruno dropped his arms. I stepped down to the platform and gestured toward Joey. “Bruno, this is Joey Dunne.” Bruno looked at Joey.

  Joey extended his hand. “Piacere.”

  “Piacere.” Bruno turned back to me. “Gabriele told me that you’ve decided to come home…to me…to us. I’ve met every train. Fina, I’m sorry about everything. I know I was wrong.” He took my hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the back of each one. Then, he saw my wedding ring. He let go of my hands.

  “Ci siamo sposati stamattina,” I said. We were married this morning.

  He stepped back, incredulous. “You told me it was my baby.” His voice rose. “Your father said you were coming home for our wedding.” I saw Bruno’s hand form a fist.

  “Hey, man. Take it easy.” Joey placed himself between us. “My wife is pregnant.”

  “You’ve tricked me,” Bruno shouted at me. The veins stood out on his temples. “Made a fool of me again.” People on the platform turned to watch us. Beads of water ran down Bruno’s face. Joey pulled his jacket up around his ears.

  “Bruno, that’s not true.” I pushed my wet hair off my face and felt for the corno.

  “What’s he saying?” Joey asked.

  Bruno held out his palm to me. “Give my mother’s ring back.” I opened my purse.

  “Does he want money, too?” Joey said.

  “Let’s get out of the rain.” I moved to a vacant bench and emptied the contents of my purse onto my lap: lipsticks, a pencil, a pen, coins, wallet, comb, mirror, a small notebook. I felt inside the pockets and looked in my coin purse. Then I held the purse upside down and shook it. “It was in my purse before we left.” I shook the purse again and then my wallet. Coins rattled onto the platform and rolled between the planks.

  “That ring belonged to my mother,” Bruno whispered. “It’s all I had of her.”

  “I’m sorry, Bruno. I’ll bring it back to you as soon as I find it. I promise.” I pulled on the lining of the purse. There was a hole in it.

  “I never should have trusted you with it,” Bruno said. I stuck my finger inside the lining. “Only a fool would give his greatest treasure to a false woman.”

  I looked up at him. “False? You abandoned me.”

  “What’s he saying now?” Joey said.

  I felt the ring inside the lining, worked it out, and held it out in my palm. Bruno reached for it with such haste that he knocked it out of my hand. The ring fell onto the platform, rolled over the edge, and disappeared onto the rocky bed next to the tracks. I bent down. I saw something sparkling in the dim light from the station.

  “I think we can still find it.”

  “At least I found out before we got married,” Bruno said.

  “Found out what?”

  “Everyone knows that you always went with your mother to visit her amante. Signora Lucarelli even saw the three of you together in Milano. Sister Maria Cristina saw Willa and her amante in Firenze. When they told Gabriele, he said that they were wrong. Even Monsignor Enrico told him, but Gabriele said it wasn’t so and made excuses for you and your mother.” Bruno’s voice was loud. Neighbors and friends, people I had always known, moved closer, gathered around us to listen, nodded as if they agreed. Even tourists paused and drew near. Bruno’s mouth continued to move, but his voice sounded far away to me.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I said.

  “You admit you were there!” Bruno shouted.

  “What’s he saying?” Joey said.

  “Everyone felt sorry for Gabriele,” Bruno continued. I watched his mouth recount the truths of my life. “Gabriele is a good man. Even though his own wife made him wear the horns, he took her back. Forgave her. He was a fool. Now, you’ve betrayed me, too. But you bring your lover home with you and expect me to shake hands with him.” He looked at Joey and made an obscene gesture.

  Joey came toward Bruno. “Shut up.”

  “Joey, no. Don’t,” I said.

  Bruno he turned to me and laughed. “I guess your husband doesn’t care that he already had the horns when he married you.”

  “Hypocrite!” I shouted. “You abandoned me and your baby. Explain that to these people.” A hush fell around us. I began to cry. Even then, when it no longer mattered, I still cared about what Bruno thought of me, still wanted to change Bruno’s mind, still wanted him to understand my intentions, to say that I was still a good person

  “Your husband has done you a favor,” Bruno said. “I would never touch you.”

  “Leave my wife alone,” Joey said. Bruno pushed Joey away. Joey shoved him back. “I said, leave her alone.”

  “Joey, no.” I reached for Bruno’s hand. “We’ve hurt each other. Let’s try to forgive.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive because you’re nothing to me. You can’t hurt me.”

  “Bruno, stop. You dishonor both of us.”

  “Is it dishonorable to speak the truth? I planned my life with you. What do you expect me to do now? Stay here? Run the winery and wait for…what? Nothing? Didn’t you ever think about what might happen to me?” Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m lost without you.”

  Joey put his hand on Bruno’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

  Bruno turned and walked away. I pushed my wet hair away from my face. Joey picked up our suitcase and followed me onto the funicular. I sat in a corner, avoiding the curious looks of the other passengers. My head ached. As we ascended, the moon emerged from behind the clouds. The
hills and valleys glistened below, a carpet of silver, grey, and umber etched with the stark patterns of rain-soaked vines and trees. On the upper platform, Joey and I let the other passengers get off before we walked together toward the house where papà waited for me.

  “Signorina Marcheschi!” The taxi driver stopped and opened the door for us. “I’ll drive you.” Joey and I got in the taxi. “We’ve missed you.”

  “I was at university.”

  The driver laughed. “Be careful! Don’t learn too much or no one will want to marry you.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Is this a friend of yours?”

  “A straniero who got lost.” I put my hand on Joey’s. “I’m helping him find his way.”

  “It’s fortuna that he found you. The tourist bureau is closed.”

  “You told him I was a straniero?” Joey said after we got out. He set our suitcase down at the door. I nodded and rang the bell. “Are you ashamed that I’m your husband?”

  “He would have told everybody who you are before papà knew.” Grazia opened the door.

  “Tesoro, you’ve come home.” She embraced me and then looked at Joey. “A guest?”

  “This is Joey Dunne, Grazia. He’s an American. We met in Milano.”

  She took Joey’s hand in both of hers and inspected his palm. “Allora, il tuo amante?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes alighted on Joey’s ring and then on mine. “Dio mio! Cosa hai fatto?” What have you done?

  “Ci siamo sposati.” We got married.

  Grazia looked from me to Joey, touched Joey’s cheek, and then embraced him. “Benvenuto.” Welcome. “I knew. I saw it in the cards.” She crossed herself. “La fortuna.” We followed her into the kitchen. Her feet were swollen. When she walked, her left foot bore most of her weight, causing her to dip deeply to one side as if she were a pendulum that could swing through only half of its arc. She seemed to have grown more stooped during my absence. How had Grazia become so old so quickly?

  “Are you well?” I asked.

  “Sì, per una vecchia.” Yes, for an old woman. In the kitchen the smells of bread and soup embraced us. Joey and I sat down at the scarred wooden table. “Eat before Signor Gabriele wakes up.” Grazia set a tureen of minestrone, bowls, and bread on the table. I reached for the bread and put a slice in my bowl. Grazia ladled the soup over it. I took the first spoonful. “Tell me what happened,” she said.