Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Feared Being Second
“I never asked to be left alone.”
Frank's voice shook.
But he didn't look away from Rosa.
“I wanted people to visit.”
Rosa held his hand.
“I know that now, Frankie.”
“I wanted to hear what everyone was wearing. I wanted to know whether the flowers had been picked.”
He tried to smile.
“I even wanted to know what kind of cake they ordered.”
A few guests laughed sadly.
Frank looked toward Vanessa.
“I was looking forward to that wedding.”
She lowered her head.
The room had become painfully quiet.
Even the servers stood near the walls, uncertain whether they should continue clearing plates.
Luca turned to Rosa.
“Did Vanessa tell you Dad personally requested privacy?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say she'd spoken to him?”
Rosa nodded.
“She said he was finding everything overwhelming.”
Frank closed his eyes.
Vanessa spoke before Luca could respond.
“He was overwhelmed.”
“That isn't the same as wanting to be excluded,” Luca said.
“I never said he didn't love you.”
“You told my relatives not to talk to him about Saturday.”
“Because every conversation about the wedding ended with him getting upset.”
Frank opened his eyes.
“Of course I was upset.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“You told me you didn't want to cause trouble.”
“Because I thought Luca wanted me gone.”
She fell silent.
Luca stood at the end of the table.
His black suit looked almost severe beneath the warm chandelier light.
But when he spoke, his voice was tired.
“Vanessa, I need to understand why you went this far.”
She pressed her napkin against her lips.
“I don't know how to make you understand.”
“Try.”
For several seconds, she stared at her engagement ring.
Then she spoke.
“When my mother was sick, people treated her like she wasn't in the room.”
Nobody interrupted.
Vanessa had rarely spoken about her mother's final years.
Even I knew very little.
“She had trouble walking,” Vanessa continued. “At my cousin's wedding, people moved her chair away from the dance floor because they thought it would look better.”
Rosa lowered her eyes.
“My mother heard them discussing her,” Vanessa said. “She pretended she didn't.”
Her voice tightened.
“I remember watching everyone smile for photographs while she sat behind a flower arrangement.”
Frank looked at her with unexpected tenderness.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I promised myself I'd never let illness take over a celebration like that again.”
Luca frowned.
“Vanessa, your mother was the one who suffered.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you make my father suffer the same thing?”
Her face crumpled.
“Because I thought I was preventing it.”
Luca waited.
Then she finally admitted something she'd avoided saying all evening.
“I was frightened.”
“Of Dad?”
“No.”
She looked at her fiancé.
“Of what our marriage was becoming before it even started.”
Luca remained silent.
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“Every time we tried to have dinner, you were worried about your father. Every time we planned a weekend, something changed.”
Frank looked uncomfortable.
“I didn't know that.”
Vanessa turned toward him.
“It wasn't your fault that you had a stroke.”
“Then why did you make it feel like it was?”
She had no answer.
Luca pulled out his chair.
He sat down slowly.
“You're right about one thing,” he told her.
Vanessa looked up.
“I haven't been present enough.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“You haven't.”
“I thought giving you control of the wedding would help.”
“It made me feel like I was planning a marriage by myself.”
Luca nodded.
“I should have listened when you said you were unhappy.”
For a moment, I could almost see the couple they'd been before all this.
Two people who loved each other.
Two people who'd become so frightened of disappointing each other that they'd stopped speaking honestly.
But then Luca looked at the withdrawal card.
“And you should have told me before making my father believe I was ashamed of him.”
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
“I know.”
Frank spoke softly.
“Vanessa, can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Did you ever think to ask whether I'd rather be embarrassed at the wedding than miss it?”
She looked confused.
Frank continued.
“I'm seventy-six. I've spilled gravy. I've forgotten words. Sometimes I need help with my shoes.”
His voice trembled.
“But I've also buried my wife, survived a stroke, and raised a son I'm proud of.”
Luca's eyes filled.
Frank straightened as much as he could.
“I think I can survive a few people staring at my hand.”
Rosa nodded through her tears.
Sal whispered, “That's our Frankie.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that Frank wasn't asking to be protected from the world.
He was asking to be allowed to live in it.
Luca looked at his father.
“Dad, I'm sorry I've been making decisions about what's best for you instead of asking.”
Frank squeezed his hand.
“Just ask me next time.”
“I will.”
The simplicity of that promise affected me more than anything else.
I had watched Frank ask permission to eat his own dinner.
Now his son was promising to treat him like a grown man again.
But Vanessa was still staring at the ivory card.
Luca followed her gaze.
“There's something you're not telling us.”
She shook her head.
“Luca—”
“Did Dad actually agree to stay away?”
Vanessa looked toward Frank.
The old man closed his eyes.
I saw something change in his face.
Not fear this time.
Recognition.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his son.
“Luca, I need to tell you something.”
“Anything, Dad.”
Frank touched the silver watch.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
“She didn't tell you everything about Tuesday.”
Vanessa went pale.
Luca leaned forward.
“What happened Tuesday?”
Frank swallowed.
Then he said the words nobody expected.
“I told Vanessa I'd stay home before she ever asked me to sign that card.”
May you like
His voice broke.
“And there's a reason I offered.”
