The Good Left Undone(8)

“The priest will have something to say about it.”

“He did. I’ve been going for instruction with Paolo. I showed Don Vincenzo a picture of the gown. He thought it was lovely.”

“There are rules. A bride is required to have her head and arms covered in church. No bosoms.”

“But I have bosoms.”

“Modesty. It’s a sign of self-respect to stay covered. It’s keeping something just for you and your husband.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“And it’s too late to teach you.”

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not.” Matelda smiled. Most of the things that mattered to her didn’t matter to anyone anymore. Matelda didn’t have a right to complain, but she remembered a time when an elder could. “Anina, wear whatever makes you happy.”

At least Anina was getting married in a church. Plenty of Matelda’s friends had grandchildren who were married in public parks or on the beach without a mention of God. All they got was a barefoot bride, a sunburn, and warm prosecco in a paper cup. “Do you know what today is?”

“The day you asked me to come over and choose a piece of jewelry for my wedding.” Anina placed the brooch back in its velvet envelope. “Cabrelli family tradition. Your grandmother gave you a piece of jewelry to wear on your wedding day, your mother gave jewelry to my mother, and now it’s your turn to give it to me.”

“It’s also my birthday.”

“No.” Anina placed her hands on the table and thought for a moment. “It is! I am so sorry! Buon Compleanno!” She got up and gave Matelda a kiss on her cheek, the side without the cut. “I didn’t forget altogether. I remembered it yesterday; I just forgot this morning. I should have brought you a present!”

“You did. You brought me fruit, a gift that has to be used immediately. It’s the perfect gift for a woman of eighty-one if I don’t die before it spoils.”

“I’m sorry, Nonna. I can’t do anything right when it comes to you.”

“That’s not true. I’d just like to see more of you, and that’s not a criticism.”

“Whenever someone says, ‘That’s not a criticism,’ it’s always a criticism.”

“Is that why you don’t come and visit more often? Am I too critical?”

“Yes.” Anina tried not to smile. “Truthfully? I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m planning a wedding.” Anina waved her hands in frustration over the jewelry case.

“At your age, I was already keeping the books for my father.”

“I’m taking over for Orsola when she goes on maternity leave.”

“Excellent. When you’re not out front with the customers, try to spend time with your grandfather in the back. That’s where the real work is done. Learn the trade from a master. It might spark your creativity.”

“Let’s see how I do filling in for Orsola, and then we can talk about my creativity.”

“Seize this opportunity and make something of it. You should think about a career.”

“First I want to make a home for Paolo and me. You know, make strudel and paint the walls. Grow a garden.”

“You need an enterprise beyond growing arugula. Sometimes things happen in life and you will have to carry your family. You’ll need money to do it.”

“I don’t care about money,” Anina shot back. “Can we talk about something else? I thought we were going to have fun today.”

A wave of shame washed over Anina. Her grandmother was trying. Nonna had prepared for this special visit and planned how it all would go. She reached for Matelda’s hand and patted it gently. “Thank you for doing all this for me. I don’t know what to pick. Will you help me?” Anina held up a small gold religious medal.

“That’s a miraculous medal.”

“Is it yours?”

“It belonged to my mother. I used to know the significance. I can’t remember now. But it will come back to me. By then, we won’t care. Old age is terrible.”

“There has to be something good about getting old.”

Matelda thought about it. “Sleeves.”

Anina laughed.

Matelda held up the medal of Santa Lucia. “There’s a story to go with this one. It also belonged to my mother.”

“I want to hear it.”

Anina lifted a small envelope out of the box. A one-carat Peruzzi-cut ruby fell out of the envelope and into the palm of her hand like a tiny red gumdrop. “Whoa.”

“That is the Speranza ruby. My grandfather insisted his friend from Venezia was the best gem cutter in Italy. You could have something made with the stone if you like.”

Anina put the ruby back into the envelope. “I had enough trouble coming up with a design for my engagement ring. Let’s leave this for someone with an imagination.”

Matelda removed a dowel with three rings from the box. She lifted a thick gold band off the dowel. “This band belonged to my mother’s mother, Netta Cabrelli. This was her wedding ring.”

Anina tried the ring on. “I can’t get it past my knuckle!”

“Nonno will size it for you if you want it. There’s plenty of gold there. She was smaller than you, but to me, she was a giant, and not always a gentle one. There’s a photograph of her on my nightstand.”