Love Finds Its Pocket

by Mary Scarpelli

  The kiss lasted no longer than five-seconds, about four seconds too long, as the entire family had converged at the front door, watching, mouths agape at their little Toni, who from that day forward would no longer be thought of as the giggly little girl who liked to eat too much. Banish the thought of Toni eating anything at all with the way her girlfriend was so shamelessly, passionately kissing her, with hands roving, bodies pressed tightly together, in full view of her patiently awaiting parents and grandparents, so inexcusably sexual a kiss for one girl to give another girl in broad daylight in the driveway of a house located in a very conservative Italian neighborhood of an under-sophisticated outer borough, where the family’s friends and neighbors would now have ample fodder for an endless stream of hostile gossip for months to come, wondering amongst themselves where the Mangiarmi parents went wrong in allowing their darling little girl to become a lesbian, and then standing there passively watching while the girls practically made love right in front of them.

  The onlookers would feel only shame and pity for the Mangiarmi clan irrespective of the fact that the family didn’t feel that way about themselves; their familial love transcended harboring any manner of prejudice against any of their children. Still, they had to live there long after Toni went back to her Manhattan apartment to live her decadent life with the impressively lovely and imposing figure of Katherine the Great doing god-only-knows to their precious daughter. Massimo Sr. had to redirect his thoughts toward decidedly negative and ugly content before he found himself having an amorously physical reaction to Kat, a rather uncomfortable one – that made for the third Mangiarmi to have the same sexual response to Kat and her magnificence. The Nonno might have felt similarly but his advanced age prevented him from taking it to that level. He was however, overheard muttering, ‘dio mio, che bella donna, che bella, grande donna’, over and over.

  Kat and Toni reluctantly dislodged their lips, standing in silence as they simultaneously felt the pervasive stillness that had settled in the air, threatening to crush them. They chuckled softly, and overheard Gene and Marcella doing the same, realizing how shocking the scene must have appeared to the uninitiated.

  “Next time, we’re coming here together. No more solo trips for me, agreed?” Kat implored, adding “Anyway, I missed you terribly last night.”

  Toni kissed her cheek and said, “Yeah, me too. Come on; I’ll introduce you to my family,” Toni placed her arm, once again, lovingly around Kat’s waist and guided her toward the front door.

  Giovanni was unable to move as his erection prevented him from subtlety and/or exhibiting gentlemanly refinement. He strategically positioned his helmet to ensure some semblance of modesty would be assured and looked over at his father with a shit-eating grin while raising and lowering his eyebrows, the origin of which both men knew instinctively but that Massimo the elder knew better than to confirm. He simply shook his head disapprovingly at his son and quickly walked over to introduce himself to Kat, extending his arms wide, sporting a genuine, warm smile.

  Kat immediately saw the disconcertingly strong family resemblance and, once again, felt a kinship the origin of which she couldn’t quite capture but felt with an intensity that shook her, from the bottom up. She concluded that Massimo Sr., Giovanni and Toni must be clones, whereas Marcella’s features were an exact split between her parents. Massimo Jr. was the male version of his mother, several inches taller than everyone else, but just as muscular. His hardened eyes lacked Antonia’s depth of compassion. Perhaps, Kat mused, his physically odd-one-out status was what precipitated Toni’s accusation that he was an odd bird, always skating on the familial periphery.

  Everyone offered Kat their blessings and gave her the standard two-cheeked kiss with the addition of a semi bear hug, the sincerity and warmth of which not only took Kat by surprise but also provided her with yet another window into the creation of Toni’s emotional construct. In a matter of seconds, her heart flooded with a deeper compassion for and an understanding of her lover than she thought possible. The chilliness of her blue-blooded background as juxtaposed against the warm and fuzzy southern European affection that was so freely being given to her could not have been more dissimilar.

  Although not necessarily country bumpkins, it was obvious to her that the family was unusually open, especially odd for New Yorkers, and would unconditionally accept her simply because Toni loved her and that translated to an immediacy of trust that Kat felt pour into her as a truly extraordinary experience – religious in nature, almost. She couldn’t recall ever having been so deeply touched by people she’d just met.

  Affording a stranger that level of sincerity could easily become disastrous, being rife with an invitation to inflict pain from wearing ones heart and open wounds in full view of friends and potential enemies alike. Her own parents’ approach, as they would put it, ‘to successfully interact with the less fortunate class’, was to disarm the enemy and stick the knife deeply within to incapacitate. They’d seen fit to do exactly that to Toni, mercilessly eviscerating her on so many occasions in hopes that she would simply go away, that the recollections alone were enough to sicken Kat. Guilt began to well up as she felt undeserving of the love that the Mangiarmi clan was so freely offering her – perhaps too much love in the case of Giovanni with his constant smile, unabashedly roving eyes and barely concealed physical excitation.

  Kat kept reminding herself that innate intelligence notwithstanding, the accumulation of financial wealth, depth of emotional comportment and the advanced intellectual development of a person may not always, indeed were rarely, in sync with one another. Toni wanted badly to rise above her humble upbringing, believing it to be an impediment to her desire to fully individuate, and worked diligently toward that end, sometimes faltering but always keeping the objective of betterment through enlightenment within the crosshairs of her scope.

  Kat was no longer certain that Toni’s desperation to dismiss her past, hoping to discard it as the useless obstacle to growth she believed it to be, was such a wise decision and vowed to find time to broach the topic with her and perhaps suggest that it might be more prudent to reconsider her position. She believed that unconditional love was a finite resource and should not be squandered, rather respected and appreciated so planned to impress upon Toni just how lucky she was; some things should never be taken for granted. She also vowed to be more understanding going forward, deciding to recall this moment as her measurement against any future impending impatience.

  “Welcome, Katherine. Benvenutti a casa nostra. Bellissima. Bella donna!” said Massimo Sr. as he physically escorted Kat over the threshold, his thick, muscular arm practically carrying her into the house.

  He was barely taller than she, but as with the entire family he was, even in his late middle age, muscular, fit and classically handsome. Kat wasn’t given to blushing but the experience left her feeling flushed and overwhelmed. She extended several socially appropriate kindnesses in return, commenting favorably on the house and its furnishings – although truth be told, she found a few of the design choices to be far too busy and humorous than proper decorum would allow her to verbalize.

  Kat pulled out from her backpack two bottles of the most exquisite red Bordeaux she was able to find, which she had neatly rolled up in small-pocketed bubble wrap. She handed them to Antonia Sr. while placing a kiss on each cheek. They just stood there staring at each other, eye-to-eye, faces mere inches apart, Kat smiling, Antonia squinting, for an almost uncomfortable length of time, Antonia trying desperately to see into Kat’s soul to flesh-out the evil within but soon realizing that Kat was not a monster, rather was a woman truly in love with her daughter.

  Antonia decided it was safe to tuck aside her raised hackles about something being amiss since she didn’t think Kat was an imminently dangerous threat but still, something was nagging at her curious mind – nothing sinister, but nevertheless requiring investigation. She was determined to revisit the incongruity she had subliminally detected but would have
to wait until her trusty intuition guided her toward the revelation; Kat kissed her once more on the cheek followed by a generous hug. Antonia felt a depth of warmth and sincerity emanate from Kat that took her by surprise. She wasn’t quite certain what she had expected – another Monica perhaps, but this woman was quite different than anyone she had ever met yet familiar at the same time so she placed her reservations on hold and immediately commenced the interrogation, more relaxed than she thought possible.

  Toni had already provided the family with a primer on Kat’s life but not one of them would be content until they heard it from the source. And, since no one in the family minded re-runs, reveled in them actually since they would be so much more informed the second time around, they settled comfortably in to a night of being regaled by the story of Kat. They all loved sharing and listening to a good story, especially so when accompanied by good food and wine. They interjected often, at times making pointed comments, other times staring intently or laughing uproariously, yet invariably getting lost in the sparkle of Kat’s strikingly sharp albeit loving gray-green eyes, or the beauty she exuded every time she smiled broadly. And whenever she turned to look at Toni, the love radiating from those eyes, from her heart and her soul was felt by everyone in the room.

  The grandparents didn’t quite know what to make of a same-sex union but they did understand the concepts of love and attraction as they themselves were no strangers to feelings of amore so accepted the premise of the evening with very little prejudice. Oddly, it would have bothered them more if it had been one of their grandsons who had declared his homosexuality. To each other, when no one else could hear them, they would remark on how Toni’s strong resemblance to her father and her nonno suggested that she had more male hormones than most other women which for them, explained her deviation from normalcy and allowed them to harbor no hesitation with accepting her.

  Giovanni was simultaneously disgusted and excited by the prospect of watching two women go at it, live rather than on film – he just wished his sister wasn’t one of the participants. While everyone else was actively engaged in the conversation, he was constructing an elaborate fantasy of bearing witness to some hot, woman-on-woman action. He intended to work on lessening the incestuous ‘yuck’ factor by convincing himself that his sister was an unrelated stranger. In the meantime, he maintained his focus entirely on Kat.

  “So Katherine, are your intentions to marry my daughter?” Massimo Sr. asked, barely two hours into her visit.

  Massimo was still a traditionalist, unable to completely forgo his conventions despite his gut telling him that he should approach this union unlike any other with which he had previous experience.

  “Well, sir,” Kat was cut-off mid sentence with an admonishment that she was to call him Massimo or Max if she preferred.

  “I’d like to call you Max, if you don’t mind – it suits you.”

  Kat and Massimo Sr. smiled at each other and for one moment, Massimo was able to forget that anyone else was in the room. The light kick that he received from his wife on one shin and from Massimo Jr. on the other broke him out of his reverie. Toni simply rolled her eyes at the blatant flirtations being casually tossed over to Kat by her father and brother and squinted suspiciously at the analytical looks her mother continued to give Kat. She made eye contact with Gene to ascertain if he too was aware of the subtext. However, he and Marcella had already hunkered down to enjoy the show, chuckling without restraint, enjoying the festivities so much so that their meals remained nearly untouched.

  “What, the menu doesn’t please you two?” Toni whispered with a sardonic mien that she hadn’t actually intended to convey.

  No one else heard her comment as she spoke softly and anyway, everyone had already turned a deaf ear to any sound other than Kat’s voice after the point at which she began her vibrant recounting of transcendence from corporate lackey to self-made entrepreneur – she conveniently left out the part about being born a daughter of privilege. She could make the most banal story seem interesting and as hers was quite extraordinary, with baited breath they waited in gleeful anticipation for her tale to unfold, slowly, colorfully, passionately, enjoining various family members to participate in her tale along the way. All had become riveted to the unveiling of her every word – even Toni’s Nonna and Nonno were transfixed, or it could possibly have been that they were having difficulty grasping the story as the rapidity with which Kat was recounting her saga of success was geared toward the fleet of mind, rendering the oldest folk at a disadvantage, having to place their full attention on her lest they miss one word and lose the ability to translate altogether. Kat emphasized her more salient points with graceful gesticulations while her facial contortions were perfectly aligned with the tenor of her story, the visual aids of which made it possible for the grandfolks to capture the gist.

  Massimo Jr.’s current girlfriend, the one everyone feared he intended to marry, was the least interested party at the table. Although not cognizant of why she found the proceedings to be so utterly boring and why being there felt more imposition/obligation than pleasant family gathering, the truth resided squarely in the camp of her not having been as well received when she was first introduced to the family.

  Afterwards, and to everyone not in the room that evening, she would simply state that she found dykes to be disgusting and repellent and that Toni’s girlfriend was really straight and would dump Toni for a man one day, but in truth she wore her jealousy loudly around herself with her arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes pointed and pouting, lips curled in a downward scowl.

  “My dear, allow things to unravel organically without feeling the need to control, contrive, redirect... What you are witnessing here is monumental! Quite a positive turn of events, no?

  “Just think about how horribly wrong this evening could have turned out for you and your family. Enjoy the moment, Toni. This is history in the making!” Gene whispered, almost giddy with the delight he was feeling at bearing witness to the unveiling of the family’s emotional evolution. He smiled and tweaked Toni’s cheek.

  ******

  Gene, Marcella, Toni and Kat spent many reciprocal evenings at each other’s homes, eating, watching movies, solving the problems of the world – the usual fare for the enlightened beings they believed themselves to be, so there already was a faction of people at the table with whom Kat knew were rooting for her to hit it out of the park. Gene never doubted it would happen; Marcella and Toni had no such confidence. They had heard their parents spew definitive, negative commentary on controversial topics during their entire childhood and they remained non-committal regarding Toni’s lesbianism so there was no solid reason for them to be optimistic about the outcome. But both daughters remained united in their decision to bring home to the family the loves of their lives, neither of whom would have been initially selected for them if their parents had been given a vote.

  Gene, being twenty years Marcella’s senior, and having already been through the Mangiarmi gauntlet, became a member of the family almost as quickly as Kat. He charmed them with his effortless Italian, his humble brilliance coupled with his extensive understanding of the composite human mind. When he and Marcella made the announcement that they were pregnant, after having been married barely three months, the calculations of which leaned more toward the blasts of a shotgun rather than a honeymoon surprise, and that it was going to be a little girl, Massimo Sr. nearly burst out of his skin with pride and joy. By the time the baby turned two, she was already thoroughly spoiled by her grandparents and great grandparents alike, all of whom were so relieved when Gene was proven capable of, i.e., still young enough to, siring offspring.

  The baby spent one entire weekend per month, Friday night through mid-day Monday, in the Staten Island manse, sleeping just to the left of her grandparent’s bed, first in a multi-purpose crib which was soon transformed into its next incarnation as an age-appropriate child’s bed. They decided they would relocate her, reluctantly, to more private
accommodations once she turned five, having converted the last empty bedroom on the second floor into a guest room. They had also purchased myriad baby supplies and toys to make certain that her time spent with them would leave her with nothing but happy memories. Her chubby little cheeks endured an inordinate amount of time being squeezed between the mercilessly insistent thumb and forefingers of her grand, and great, grandparents.

  Marcella put the kibosh on having any additional children as their lives were complicated enough trying to navigate the logistics of single-child care, wondering when the pangs of loss would ease whenever she left the house to spend ten hours a day, four days per week slaving away as a pastry chef in a commercial kitchen, and balancing that with maintaining an active social life.

  Kat and Toni were more than happy to provide overnight babysitting services two or three weeknights per month so that Marcella and Gene could enjoy adult activities at venues in which a child would not be welcome but they themselves were not at all interested in pursuing the child route as they were perfectly content handing over little Dylan to the arms of her loving parents, directly after breakfast the next morning. “Better them than us, my love,” was Kat’s rallying cry. “You betcha,” was Toni’s consistent reply.

  ******

  “My apologies for diverting the conversation away from your earlier query, Max,” Kat said with a smile and a wink. Shameless, thought Toni.

  “I knew you’d get back to it eventually, bella mia. The floor is yours,” he responded with a smile.

  Massimo Sr. held his hand out, palm open, as an invitation for Kat to proceed at any time. The entire family found the incongruity between his usual Brooklyn-ese and employing a grammatically perfect and gentlemanly conversational style to be nothing short of hilarious.