The House by the River

by Lena Manta

  The last guests left a little before dawn, and everyone assured their hosts that it was the best New Year’s Eve they’d ever spent. As soon as the doors closed, Magdalini took off her shoes with a grimace of pain and turned to her father-in-law.

  “Charley, are you tired?” she asked curtly.

  He was surprised by her tone. “Not very . . .”

  “Good, because I want us to talk.”

  “My dear, do you know what time it is?” Franco asked. “It’s late.”

  “On the contrary. It’s early. And enough time has been lost!”

  “And what do you want with me?” Charley asked roughly.

  “What we’re talking about concerns you, unless you’ve completely retired from the work.”

  “What work?” Franco was anxious now.

  “Your work, Franco. You do business, don’t you?”

  “Yes—of course.”

  Magdalini went ahead of them and for the first time ever entered her father-in-law’s office. Father and son looked at each other. Charley’s expression was angry, but Franco’s was uneasy. They followed the girl, unable to do anything else. She waited for them, standing with her arms crossed on her chest.

  “What’s going on, my love?” asked Franco, closing the door behind them.

  “You must get Alan away from you at once. And when I say at once, I mean today! I’m surprised you call such a man your right hand and put all your trust in him.”

  Silence followed her words, until Charley broke out into loud laughter. When he’d stopped laughing, though, he looked at his daughter-in-law with the familiar daggers shooting out from his eyes. “That’s all we needed! After her flowery tablecloths and her Greek specialties, the little village girl has decided to stick her nose in our work. Stay with your saucepans, silly girl, and let men look after their work like they know how to. I’ve put up with enough from you and your village ways. I’m not about to make you the boss. My son may be fixated on your wide-open beautiful legs, but I can still think logically!”

  “Charley!” Franco’s voice sounded like a gunshot. “Ask my wife for forgiveness right now, because otherwise—”

  “One moment, Franco!” Magdalini was now deathly pale, but calm. “Your father spoke to me, so I will answer him.” She went up to Charley, who was breathing heavily and looked directly at him. “I’m sorry I made you angry,” she said. “I really should be angry with you, because you spoke rudely, if not disgustingly, but you are my husband’s father, and so mine too. You see, this village girl was brought up in a place where they teach us to respect our parents. So I don’t hold anything against you, nor does your way of speaking upset me. I’m not stupid—I know you didn’t want me as Franco’s wife. However I’m used to it. My grandfather didn’t want my mother as his daughter-in-law, but at the end of his life they became friends. I hope it won’t take us that long. As for Alan . . .” She turned to Franco. “I would never interfere in your business and you know it. But tonight something terrible happened.”

  Without any more delay, she told her husband every detail of what she’d learned after Mary had alerted her. She repeated, word for word, what she’d heard in the garden. With everything she said, Franco looked more surprised but at the end his expression was hellish.

  “I’ll kill him with my own hands!” Charley yelled.

  Magdalini smiled. “All right, let’s not go too far. You’re businessmen, not gangsters.”

  Her words threw the room into complete silence.

  “Always the same Charley,” Franco hurried to comment. “He threatens gods and demons!”

  They both looked at the elder Giotto. Magdalini seemed to be scolding him gently for his exaggerated reaction, but Franco’s look exuded a warning.

  Later, when they were alone in their room Magdalini turned to her husband. “Anyway, you have to admit that what I overheard didn’t sound like regular business,” she observed calmly.

  “What do you mean?” Franco hastened to ask.

  “That I felt as if I was hearing a conversation from the underworld. Who are these people from the west who are plotting against you?”

  “Competitors in the market.”

  “And why did they shoot at you, when that man got in the way? That sort of thing reminds me of the Mafia.”

  Franco pretended to be amused. “My dear, nothing shady is going on. That day they shot at me I was with the politician and I naturally assumed that the bullet was meant for him. Now that I’ve found out the whole thing was rigged so that bastard could win my trust, I can’t forgive myself for being so naive about him.”

  “To be honest, I was surprised when you introduced him to me. From that first moment, my instincts told me to warn you. The instant we met, I disliked him.”

  “Then perhaps I’d better introduce you to all my colleagues, darling. Your instinct is real and precious, just as you are. The way you spoke to my father—”

  But Magdalini interrupted him. “Do you know something, Franco? You talk too much.” And in one movement she was naked in front of him.

  The first light of the sun, peeking in through the window, lit her body in such a way that it looked like a marble statue. Franco felt a strange jealousy as its rays played over her and caressed her. Alan was far away now. No one would hear anything from him again.

  When Magdalini asked what had happened, Franco answered almost indifferently: He’d found out from Alan everything he wanted to know, then he’d gotten rid of him without compensating him, naturally. He never let his wife find out that Alan’s body lay at the bottom of the lake, somewhere far away, buried in a block of concrete.

  Yet again the message had reached the people it was intended for.

  Magdalini’s pregnancy made Franco so happy it nearly brought him to the point of madness. Even Charley managed a smile. His relationship with his daughter-in-law hadn’t changed since the night of the party, but now he treated her with more respect. However much he didn’t want to admit it, the girl had guts, and unfortunately, a brain in her head. This last fact really troubled him. After a lifetime of seeing women only as decorative objects whose only useful purpose was to satisfy men’s desires, it was difficult for him to accept that his daughter-in-law was different. She ruled the household with a hand as soft as velvet but as strong as iron and the entire staff respected and admired her for it. She was a wonderful housewife, with a calmness that wasn’t a sign of obedience; rather it was an indication of her self-control. In the old man’s eyes, she was a strange creature.

  From the first moment that she announced her pregnancy, Magdalini regretted it. Franco had gone crazy, her aunt transformed herself into her guardian angel, and she had had to let Mary take over certain tasks.

  Magdalini sighed helplessly one day as she shared her frustrations with her aunt. “I feel as if I have a collar on,” she complained. “I don’t dare do anything in the house. If I lift a vase, a maid appears from somewhere and runs to take it out of my hands. I’m pregnant, not about to die!”

  “What sort of talk is that, Magdalini?” Anna scolded her. “Is it bad that they all love you so much they try to stop you from tiring yourself? And if you absolutely must do something, why don’t you start preparing the baby’s room?”

  “Mercy, Aunt! I’m not even at five months yet.”

  “And must you wait till the last minute?”

  “The worst thing is that I have no friends, since Judy got married and moved to the other side of the world.”

  It was true. After her marriage to Alex, Magdalini’s only friend had followed him to Canada. Alex was a lawyer and a big Canadian company had hired him. The two friends had said an emotional good-bye to each other, and they would have stayed in touch through letters if they hadn’t both been so distracted. Occasionally they exchanged a short letter or card, and sometimes they spoke on the phone. After Judy, Magdalini hadn’t become close with any other girl. The wives of Franco’s colleagues were much older than she was and her relationships with
them were formal.

  Her aunt was right again, and Magdalini realized it when she followed her advice and began decorating the baby’s room. She hired a decorator, of course, and after endless consultations with him the work began. She followed everything closely, despite the objections of Franco and of the decorator himself, who felt the eye of his customer always on him. When it was finished, everyone agreed that whether the baby was a boy or a girl, it would feel happy in the space she had created. It was a large, bright room, full of butterflies, horses, and mermaids, and the colors were soft and neutral so as to suit whichever gender the child happened to be. The prints on the walls were figures from movies and there was an endless number of toys.

  Franco laughed happily when he saw it finished, but Charley growled with distaste.

  “What exactly don’t you like, Charley?” his daughter-in-law asked him patiently.

  “Is it for me to like?” he shot roughly at her. “If it’s a boy, how are you going to make him a man in here?”

  “I promise you that if it’s a boy, by the time he grows up I’ll make it more . . . severe,” Magdalini answered, but Charley left with a final disapproving glance.

  The last month of her pregnancy was miserable for the expectant mother. Her belly was enormous, her feet had swollen, and she had stopped complaining that they wouldn’t let her do anything because it was so hard for her to move. Her nights were the worst, as the baby kicked all the time, keeping her awake. As her due date approached, Magdalini grew more and more anxious, especially after the doctor informed her that the baby was very large. Franco restricted his hours outside the house so he could be near her. He preferred working in his father’s office.

  That night Magdalini was worse than ever. At dinner, she forced herself to eat two mouthfuls of food, but her belly seemed ready to burst. Even Charley was worried and didn’t take his eyes off her. He was, in fact, the first to see an unexpected spasm on her face when the dessert arrived.

  “Lyn,” he said softly.

  It was one of the few times he had said her name and the girl looked at him with a pained smile.

  “What’s happening, Charley?” she asked him with difficulty through her contraction. “Now that I’m giving birth, is it time for a truce?”

  “You’re giving birth!” It was Franco who shouted and jumped up to race to her side.

  “Don’t shout, my dear,” she said in a calm voice. “It was a pain and it’s passed. But it’s probably time.”

  “What are you sitting there for, you idiot! The girl’s giving birth! Tell Jack to bring the car! Call the doctor! Tell the midwife!” Charley was on his feet, giving orders like the captain of a ship in a storm, and Magdalini couldn’t hold back a little laugh.

  With difficulty she got up and moved toward him. “I’m happy to have two such coolheaded men beside me.”

  Charley turned to glare at her, but another sharp pain made Magdalini crumple, and he had to support her so she wouldn’t fall down.

  The next few hours were a whirlwind for all of them. The only thing that Magdalini remembered afterward was Franco’s pale face and Charley’s bright-red one. Every time poor Jack, who was driving the car, got into traffic, he became the target of threats from the father and son. Through her pain she heard them threatening him dozens of times; now they’d skin him alive, now they’d feed his brains to the dogs, until she was forced to intervene. “Stop it, both of you!” she gasped. “You’re driving the man mad. He’s doing what he can, but he’s driving a car. Not to mention that you’ve made my hair stand on end with your threats. Whoever threatens Jack again can get out of the car right now!” She stopped, breathing heavily, but she managed to see Jack looking gratefully at her in the mirror.

  However optimistic she wanted to be, Magdalini knew that something wasn’t going right; she could feel it. It had been an hour since her water had broken, and when it had, it was full of blood. When they took her in for surgery, the anxious expression on her doctor’s face confirmed her suspicions.

  Anna and Peter found Franco and Charley in the waiting room. When Anna saw the two men on the point of collapse, she took charge of the situation, and Franco realized that calmness and coolheadedness were inherited virtues. Anna sent Peter to bring coffee for everyone, and then, in her calm voice, began to speak to them and tell them everything they needed to hear. She sat next to Franco, holding his hand gently, and every now and then stroking his hair. When she began to pray in Greek, although he didn’t understand a word, Franco felt himself calming down. He too raised his eyes toward heaven, asking for everything to go well. But the doctor, who came out after an hour, had nothing good to say to them. The birth wasn’t proceeding normally. The child didn’t seem ready to come out and its size made things even more difficult. Magdalini was completely exhausted. She had lost a lot of blood and she couldn’t endure any more effort.

  Franco, white and tight lipped, grasped the doctor by the lapel. “It doesn’t matter what you do. But I need to take my wife away from here healthy!” he managed to say, his words somewhat muddled by the effort it took him to speak. “The child doesn’t matter to me. Nothing matters except Lyn herself!”

  The doctor nodded understandingly. “Calm down, Franco. I’ll proceed with a Cesarean section, which means I won’t face the dilemma of deciding which of the two to save. I simply came out to tell you . . .”

  “Why didn’t you do the Cesarean before now?”

  “Because in the beginning everything seemed to indicate that the birth would be difficult but smooth. We prefer, you know, for women to give birth naturally.”

  Franco was shouting now. “You’re saying a lot, Doctor! Stop talking and go do your work! When you come out again, I want you to tell me that everything is all right, otherwise leave by the other door to save yourself. If something happens to my wife, it’ll be the end of you!”

  The doctor left, frowning. He’d heard rumors before about the Giotto family, but he hadn’t believed them until now. Suddenly he asked himself how he’d gotten mixed up with this man. His threats didn’t sound like empty words.

  After the doctor had left, Franco collapsed in Anna’s embrace. She took him in her arms like a baby and continued praying, her lips white as paper. Charley was bright red and agitated—now sitting down, now pacing nervously up and down—while Peter, sitting in a chair, looked pale as a lifeless doll.

  This time the doctor’s appearance was different. He greeted them with a broad smile and they all hurried up to him.

  “We’re all done!” he said. “Everything went well.”

  “My wife?” was all Franco asked.

  “Lyn was a heroine. She’s sleeping now, but in a little while you can see her. Aren’t you going to ask me about your child?”

  “Now that my wife is all right, tell me.”

  “You have a great big son, full of health and with terrific lungs.”

  Franco and Magdalini’s son was truly beautiful. Nature had contrived to combine the best of father and mother. He looked like a giant compared to the other children, and his cries were certainly loud.

  Franco could hardly wait to see his wife. He went into her room and was at first frightened by her pale face, but the doctor reassured him. She was young and healthy, the ordeal of the birth would pass, and she would be just as she was before.

  When the family returned home with its new member, the entire household celebrated. Again the staff lined up to greet them and everyone’s eyes filled with emotion. Mary didn’t restrain her tears and began to cry. Magdalini was moved and hugged her despite the fact that she hadn’t quite recovered. Her incision hurt a great deal and she felt weak.

  Despite her protests, Franco put his wife to bed and stayed beside her, holding her hand until he saw her eyelids begin to droop. Then he went straight to his son’s room where he too was asleep, with his nanny watching him. Over Magdalini’s objections, Franco had hired an experienced woman to care for his son. Yes, Magdalini would have the responsib
ility of bringing up her child, but she must have some help, and for the first time he was adamant.

  Magdalini’s recovery after her return was impressive. The color in her cheeks came back first, followed by her strength and her energy. Every day she spent hours with her son beside her in the bed and talked to him.

  Franco and Magdalini had decided to name the child Charles Giotto, and when they told his namesake, Charley gave his daughter-in-law a ring with a diamond so enormous that Magdalini was moved to complain, “It’s so big that I’ll have to hire someone to hold my hand!”

  “In the end, we two didn’t have to wait as long as your grandfather and your mother,” he said and winked at her conspiratorially.

  A month later it was as if Magdalini had never passed through such a difficult trial. She reassumed all her duties, and was so full of energy that the governess asked if she still needed her services. Mary explained to the new member of staff the peculiarities of her mistress.

  Charley had become Magdalini’s warmest supporter, a marvel that Franco couldn’t believe. Every day that passed was better than the one before, and little Charles became the center of everyone’s world, his room the most visited in the house. He didn’t seem to mind his admirers. When it was time to sleep he didn’t bother to concern himself with anyone. His huge eyes, so like his father’s, closed gently and he abandoned himself to Morpheus even if all hell was breaking out around him. The only things that made him cry were if he was hungry or dirty. Then his eyes would grow wild, which made Charley boast that his grandson was just like him. The baby’s wails were like the trumpets of Jericho. They echoed through the whole house and everyone ran in a panic to satisfy the child’s needs.

  Nobody understood how the first year of Charles’s life had passed so quickly. It was as if some otherworldly being had bewitched time, making the months run by in a hurry. The boy’s first birthday was celebrated in style. The cake that Mary made was so large that it would have fit the whole child inside. His grandfather made the night sky look like day with all the fireworks he bought. Any objections from Magdalini about the excessive nature of the celebrations fell on deaf ears.