by Lena Manta
“Believe me, it won’t annoy him at all. Besides, that’s what I call him.”
“That’s not right. He’s your father, and you owe him respect. Didn’t you see how he welcomed us into his house?”
“This was my mother’s house, and it will pass to me. Basically we’re showing Charley hospitality.”
Magdalini scolded him. “Franco, that’s no way to talk, after his kind gesture, giving me his wife’s jewelry.”
Franco didn’t know whether to destroy the delusions of the innocent girl, who was looking at him admonishingly, or to let her go on believing that Charley had made the ultimate sacrifice, parting with his wife’s jewels. He may have been young when his mother died, but from the careless gossip of the staff, he’d learned that their marriage wasn’t happy, except for during a very short time. Charley’s hard character on the one hand, and his mother’s sensitive soul on the other, didn’t help create harmony in the relationship. He knew that his father had begun to neglect his wife from early on, to the point where he completely ignored her, while she grew more and more unhappy. Franco decided to say nothing to his wife. It was too soon to poison her mind and her spirit. Perhaps it was unnecessary. For now, Charley obeyed his orders to the letter. Franco had managed to warn him about their return and had told him exactly what to do to welcome Magdalini. He looked at his new bride now, as she held open the box of jewels and admired them like a child with her toys. Her eyes were full of tenderness as she devoutly touched the pearls and diamonds that adorned the exquisite pieces.
“They’re so beautiful,” the girl commented in admiration. “She must have glowed when she wore them. How I wish I’d seen her.”
“There’s a portrait of her in the sitting room,” Franco responded.
Magdalini’s reaction caught him by surprise. With the box still in her hands, she dashed out of the room. Franco followed her as she ran through the great house like a child until she stopped suddenly in front of the painting. The young woman fixed her eyes on the image of her husband’s mother.
“You look like her,” she said to him in a low voice.
“Everyone says I look just like Charley,” Franco replied wryly.
“The people who say that don’t have any perception. You have your father’s eyes, of course, but the look in them is your mother’s. Your lips are like hers too. And look! In the portrait she’s wearing that pearl necklace. How beautiful she is.”
Franco felt a tug at his heart; his wife’s reaction had moved him. He coughed to clear his throat, and Magdalini turned toward him.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel sad,” she murmured, embarrassed.
“No. But it’s been a long time since anyone in this house thought about my mother. Perhaps nobody ever did, not even her husband.”
“Franco,” she scolded him again. “Now you’re not being nice. And even you don’t know what went on between the two of them.”
“What I know is that you have a heart of gold,” he said and hugged her.
Life in the Giotto house soon began to resume its everyday ways, ways that Magdalini had to learn. In the beginning Franco was worried that his wife would be bored in the big house, that she would perhaps experience the loneliness his mother once felt. But he soon realized his mistake. She might have the airs and the ways of a true American, but inside Magdalini was and would always remain a dynamic and very clever Greek girl, ready to meet every challenge. Franco received a report each evening from his people, who stayed at the house to provide security. He learned what had happened throughout each day and it was as entertaining as it was admirable.
When the father and son left after breakfast that first morning, Magdalini went straight to the kitchen. The staff, who were having their own breakfast at that hour, didn’t know what to do. They all jumped up and stood in line, but his wife poured herself a coffee and sat down with them at the table.
“I refuse to drink coffee by myself, and anyway, there’s so much I have to learn that this way I can save time,” she explained to them.
At first the staff was very formal and stiff around her, but she soon won them all over and easily crossed the lines that separated them. After that first intrusion into the kitchen, she wandered through the whole house, examining the rooms one by one, except for those that belonged to her father-in-law, and making notes on a pad. At the evening meal, Magdalini was very cheerful. Franco noticed that there were flowers in all the vases, the place settings were different from the usual ones, and the food wasn’t like anything he’d eaten at this table before. He looked at his father, who had also observed the changes.
“What sort of service set is this? Where did you find it?” he asked his daughter-in-law, trying to make his voice sound strict.
“It’s not the only one,” Magdalini answered cheerfully. “The house has twelve everyday sets and sixteen formal ones. Do you believe it? I couldn’t count the tablecloths, although I can’t understand why we have so many because they’re all the same. There’s not a single colored one. They’re all white,” she concluded sadly.
“You can buy new ones, my love,” Franco suggested affectionately.
She smiled at him. “That’s what I plan to do. I don’t see any reason for us to eat as if we’re expecting some ambassador, especially when it’s just the three of us. Besides, it’s boring.”
Charley stopped himself from saying what he wanted to in reply; instead, he stayed silent. He was irritated by this creature who seemed to have inexhaustible reserves of stamina and enthusiasm, nor did he like seeing his son behaving like a lovestruck schoolboy.
“They told me that you went to the kitchen today,” Franco said.
They had finished eating and were drinking coffee in the sitting room, while Charley had withdrawn to his office.
“Yes, I had to get to know the staff and learn some things. Why do you ask?”
“You must have surprised them.”
Magdalini sat up straight in her chair. “Ah, Franco, we have to discuss a few things, while we’re still at the beginning,” she said seriously. “In my aunt’s house, they didn’t let me do anything. I was bored to death, but it wasn’t my house and I didn’t want to upset the order of things, so I went along with it. But I refuse to spend my time like a woman of leisure here. I refuse to have areas of my house that are ‘forbidden zones,’ except, of course, for Charley’s spaces. If I want to dig in the garden, I won’t ask Joshua, the gardener. If I feel like drinking my coffee in the kitchen with Mary, the cook, I’ll do it without a second thought. And if I’m dying for some sort of food, I’ll cook it myself. Do you know that the menu that’s hanging up in the kitchen has just ten dishes, to be served in rotation? How can we eat the exact same thing every ten days?”
“I always said there was something that annoyed me about the food here,” Franco said cheerfully.
“It’s as if we’re in jail with a strict routine! I’ve made up my mind to oversee this household, not just be a guest in some hotel. Unless you prefer us to rent a small, convenient apartment where I’ll do all the work myself.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary for us to do something so drastic.”
“Then don’t interfere again in my work!” she declared abruptly, although her eyes were smiling.
“OK—I only hope we won’t have a mass exodus of the staff because you’ve disturbed their routine.”
“There’s no way that will happen. They’ve already accepted everything I’ve told them, and they’re happy. Don’t forget you married a Greek, and now you’ll have to put up with the consequences. In my country, a woman who gets married busies herself with her household.”
“In fact, my little Greek woman, I underestimated you, and I never do that. I’m surprised I did it with you. I didn’t expect you to fit in so well here. Tell me, though, will your . . . housekeeping allow you time to see Anna?”
The next day she left for her aunt’s house, having given clear instructions to the staff about what tasks the
y should do in her absence. The cook was happily surprised when she told her not to prepare anything because she would cook herself when she got back. She had been dying to finally eat some Greek food and she’d made up her mind to put some Greek dishes on the table.
“So, bravo!” the cook announced as soon as the kitchen door had closed behind Magdalini. “It’s been a long time since a woman set foot in here, and she’s a woman with guts, this little one!”
The whole staff was pleasantly surprised by Magdalini. Some, like Mary, had spent their whole lives in the big house. They’d known Charley’s wife, the beautiful but passive housewife. They’d tested their endurance under the harshness of Charley. They were tired of cleaning and taking care of a virtually empty house and now that they saw it coming to life, they liked it.
Anna stood in her living room, impatiently waiting for her niece to arrive. When Magdalini finally got there, her aunt saw her looking beautiful and smiling, and a weight was lifted from her shoulders. She hugged her niece eagerly and listened carefully to her news. She laughed when Magdalini described her energetic involvement in the everyday management of her new house. Anna mentally congratulated her sister on the way she’d brought up her daughter, on how she’d allowed her spirit to grow strong and her sharp mind to develop. When Magdalini was staying with her aunt and uncle, she’d behaved differently, more shyly, but now Anna saw a changed woman. Franco’s love had filled Magdalini with self-confidence. The girl knew both her strength and her limits perfectly, and Anna admired her for that. She was delighted when Magdalini invited her to the Giotto house for traditional Greek food.
On the night that Anna and Peter joined them for dinner, Charley sat at the table and groaned with displeasure. He didn’t recognize any of the dishes he saw on the cheerful tablecloth embroidered with daisies. When he raised his eyes to his son and saw the adoration with which he looked at his wife, it took all his self-control not to throw down his napkin and leave the table. He had put up with a great deal during the past week, as his daughter-in-law had taken over the household, and he hardly recognized where he was anymore. Even the arrangement of the furniture had changed under this wretched woman. The dissatisfaction he felt didn’t allow him to admit how tasty the meal was. His intense dislike of her didn’t let him see how much warmer the house, which used to look like a hotel, had become.
As Charley saw it, the worst thing was Magdalini’s own demeanor. She appeared not to notice how coldly he behaved to her. Instead, she was always polite and affectionate toward him. She greeted him happily at the table each night, and when she bought him a really beautiful silk robe as a gift, she presented it to him with a kiss for which he’d been quite unprepared. In Charley’s eyes, all this seemed hypocritical, and often he reached his limit. But he didn’t dare say anything. His son’s eyes were always on him. And it wasn’t the right time to clash with him. In the eastern region, Franco had taken over completely now, while the annoyances from the west had disappeared. Everyone was subservient to his strength. Charley was choking but he was hemmed in. He missed his old days of glory very much. He couldn’t get it into his head that the game had passed out of his hands, but he had to admit that things were getting better and better. So he kept his mouth shut.
The party that Franco wanted to give on New Year’s Eve forced Magdalini into overdrive. She wanted to make the evening unforgettable for all the guests. In the few months that she’d been married, she had entertained some of her husband’s colleagues, but now she would have to receive at least a hundred guests, among them a politician. She worked with Mary on the menu. She hired special artists to enliven the evening and found, by herself, the best orchestra in Chicago. Franco watched her erasing and writing continuously in her now-famous notebook, and he smiled contentedly. His happiness filled him in a way he had never experienced before. His wife was the ornament of his life. Whoever met her hastened to congratulate him warmly on his choice and bless him for his good fortune. What they didn’t know and couldn’t imagine was that his greatest joys were lived in her arms. Her body was an ark in which he traveled to harbors filled with magical experiences and intoxicating smells. Her embrace was like a hospitable city, brightly lit, but with a thousand secrets he never tired of exploring.
That New Year’s Eve, Magdalini had managed to make everything magical. Even Charley had to admit it and congratulate her. Magdalini herself was in a panic at first. The faces and names of the guests seemed to form a crazy dance in her head, but fortunately Franco was beside her most of the time and reminded her whenever she forgot. The politician made an impression on her; his appearance was pleasant and his smile was sweet, although his wife acted like she’d been obliged to come and couldn’t wait to leave. In fact, both the politician and his wife had been obligated to attend. His candidacy had been supported and financed by the Mafia, naturally not without certain promises in exchange.
When Franco introduced Alan as his right-hand man, Magdalini had trouble smiling. The very tall man standing in front of her provoked such distaste that she nearly wiped the back of her hand where he had left a polite kiss. This man frightened her. His eyes were strangely small for the size of his face, he had a nasty look, and his smile was completely false. The emotions he provoked were entirely in contrast to what Franco had told her about him. Her husband seemed to have complete confidence in this man, and sang his praises as they moved on to another group, lawyers this time.
Shortly after midnight, when the spectacular fireworks were over and the couples were dancing in the huge main room, Magdalini saw Mary half open the door leading to the kitchen and look intently at her. She excused herself from the group she was talking to and disappeared behind the same door, where Mary took her by the hand and led her to the room the staff used as a lounge. It was completely dark inside, with only the moon providing a dim light. Magdalini turned inquiringly to the cook, but Mary put her finger to her lips. She moved easily through the dark room, and Magdalini followed her, feeling her curiosity growing by the minute. Mary opened a door to the outside and went out into the garden. They walked carefully toward a small gazebo and hid themselves in the nearby foliage. Magdalini held her breath when she saw Alan talking to another man who Franco had introduced to her as Mr. McLondon. She pricked up her ears to listen to them. They couldn’t go any nearer or they’d be discovered.
“You’re hurrying,” Alan said now and his voice sounded irritated. “We shouldn’t have come here. Someone might see us and then the whole game will be over.”
“We’re late, though,” McLondon answered. “And down there, they’re in a hurry for results. I worked hard to get into Giotto’s circle and time’s precious.”
“Yes, but for a job like this, you need patience. The Giottos are tough nuts to crack, and they won’t break easily. Nor will we get rid of them fast. When the old man was in charge it was easier. But Franco’s as cunning as a fox.”
“He trusts you, though.”
“Yes, but I had to take a bullet in the leg while pretending to save his life. That’s why I’m saying, be patient! We’ve been through a lot to get where we are—let’s not spoil everything.”
“You’re right, but they’re putting pressure on me from the west. You understand?”
“Tell them that in a month, Franco will be wondering where his control went. Tell them to trust me. Let’s go inside before anyone notices we’re missing, especially together, seeing as we’re not supposed to know each other.”
The two men left, but Magdalini couldn’t move. She was paralyzed with shock. Suddenly she began to shake, so Mary took off her own jacket and put it around her mistress’s shoulders, then held her gently for a moment before leading her back to the staff lounge. She turned on a small lamp and poured a glass of brandy for Magdalini, who was as white as a sheet. The young woman swallowed the drink in one gulp and felt it go down like a fiery tongue into her stomach, but she stopped shaking.
“How did you know?” was all she asked.
&nbs
p; “I didn’t know, madam. When I called you, I had no idea what we would stumble on. When there are people at the house, I like to look at the guests in their nice clothes. When I was taking a peek, I saw the man signal to Alan, and him nodding before they both disappeared. I didn’t know what I didn’t like about it, or what made me call you. But something inside me told me to let you know.”
Magdalini had recovered now. She looked at Mary with a smile. “You may have saved my husband’s life, Mary. You and your peeking! You’re priceless!” She got up in a hurry to leave, but she turned back and stroked the older woman’s cheek affectionately. “Thank you,” she said softly, and Mary wiped the tears from her eyes.
Magdalini returned to the party, completely in control of herself. She looked for Alan and saw him talking to her husband. She wasn’t wrong, then. Now that she knew and observed him again, he looked very dangerous indeed. His expression was dark, while Franco looked relaxed and was laughing. She went up to them with a cheerful expression on her face.
“If I suspect that on such a night you two are talking about work, I’ll make trouble,” she said brightly, and she noticed that Alan hurried to put a happy mask over his impassive face. “I hope my husband isn’t making use of your spare time. Even a ‘right hand’ has to relax!”
“It’s a pleasure to work for Franco,” Alan answered in a servile tone.
Magdalini felt the blood rush to her head. His hypocrisy made her furious, but she hid her anger. “My husband is happy to have you beside him too. It’s so rare to find devoted people whom you can trust.”
Alan fixed his eyes on her, looking to see if there was any irony in what she’d just said, or even suspicion, but her innocent expression put his doubts to rest. Inwardly, he was annoyed with himself. She was just a stupid nobody.
Excusing herself, Magdalini dragged her husband onto the floor for a dance. She felt the need to distance him from the nasty snake that he was unknowingly nurturing at his breast. Dozens of questions hammered at her brain. What she had heard made her very anxious. And she felt that something had escaped her, certainly, but she didn’t yet know what—her reasoning was blocked by anxiety.
