ON THE TRIP BACK HOME, Nico was surrounded by people, both on the boat and on the train. It was the time of year when families resort-hopped, and businessmen went back and forth from the city to the oceanside to allow their wives and children time away from the crowded New York streets for the hot days of summer.
But soon summer would come to an end, and Nico knew that the restaurant addition project wouldn’t take much more time to plan.
He had to convince his parents that staying on to learn more from Mr. Travers was a good idea.
But he knew in his heart that it wasn’t his sole motivation for spending more time in Newport.
Every time a young woman with a blonde braid whisked by, he thought of Faith. Wondering if she was swimming with her brother and cousins, or helping at her family’s shelter.
Did she think of him?
A part of him thought she might, but he didn’t want to hope when it would only lead to disappointment.
“Nico’s home!”
As soon as he set his suitcase on the hard wood floor of his family’s apartment, two of his sisters, Teresina and Anne Marie, grabbed one of his arms each and pulled, not even giving him a chance to close the door behind him.
Soon, his brothers and other sisters joined in the harassment, which he enjoyed with every fiber of his being.
His youngest sibling, nine year old Claudia, crossed her arms over her thin chest and pouted, holding back where the others had flocked to him.
“It’s about time you came home! I’m tired of mopping the floor of the grocery!”
That was usually his job at the end of the day, and he knew that someone would have to take care of it, although maybe not to the extent that was expected of him. He was sure she hadn’t been doing it late at night after restocking shelves, and he also knew that her anger was a pose.
As soon as he freed himself from the other children and opened his arms, she flew into them, and he lifted her up, cradling her against his shoulder as he had when she was only a baby.
He thought of Faith struggling with that little boy when they first met, and smiled at the memory. She would have suitors soon, and whoever she chose would expect her to be a good mother to his children, whether she was comfortable with babies or not.
But she was twenty, and should have had plenty of male attention by now.
She should have her choice of any of the available men of her class in Newport, or even in Manhattan if she had been interested in attending any of the social events.
Which she hadn’t.
The Davenports had made a little cocoon of their own in their small but vibrant town, staying on even in the chilly autumn and freezing winters, their own company and the work at their shelter enough to make them happy.
He knew what it was like to have family that you never wanted to leave.
It was only four hours from Newport to Manhattan, but it was enough of a trip and at a price that would keep him from making it often enough to please his siblings and parents.
Or himself.
Nico set his concerns aside, rubbing Claudia’s back and patting her between her bony shoulder blades. She had always been tiny, but she was nowhere the height or weight his other brothers and sisters had been at her age.
He frowned at his mother as he tucked his chin into Claudia’s neck, and she shook her head with a smile.
“She is fine, just taking her time growing is all. Come, caro, we have meatballs, your favorite.”
She kissed his cheek with a loud smacking sound and he laughed, feeling Claudia sigh against his shoulder.
“Bambina, let your brother eat now. He won’t leave without telling you, so you can rest easy.”
Teresina appeared at his side and took Claudia from his arms, her squeals of protest more of an act than not. Anne Marie had settled a hand on Claudia’s messy head of ebony hair, and offered Nico a little smirk.
What was she up to, he wondered.
Just as he sat down on a worn wooden chair at the kitchen table, Anne Marie rested her free hand on her hip and actually blushed.
He was sure it was the first time he had ever seen her do so.
“Our Anne Marie has a suitor, and he says he means to marry her.”
Nico accepted the plate of meatballs in a pool of sweet tomato sauce, the oregano scent tantalizing his taste buds before he even took a bite.
An Italian boy whose parents had grown up in this neighborhood with his parents lived five doors down from them and had been pursuing Anne Marie since they weren’t much older than Claudia. Anne Marie, for her part, had flirted with him, all smiles until he tried to hold her hand and she ran away as if he might bite.
Perhaps she had decided that Celli was for her after all.
“His name is Francis, and he sells newspapers. Or at least he did until he got a promotion. Now he’s selling the advertisements in the newspapers.”
Claudia wrinkled her nose, and Nico reached out to tap her on it as he bit into a meatball.
No one could make a meatball like his mama.
He savored the juicy mixture as Anne Marie continued to tell him how wonderful this Francis was, and Nico wondered if he was someone he should know.
“So I might beat you to the altar after all. You’re getting a bit old to be unmarried, you know.”
He nearly choked on his food. Since when had Anne Marie been competing with him to see who could marry first?
The door burst open and was followed quickly by a bang that indicated it had been closed firmly, right before someone grabbed Nico from behind and leaned over his shoulder, nearly causing him to drop a newly speared meatball from his fork.
“Gino! Let your brother eat already!”
Their mother shooed at Gino, who was all of twelve and had endless energy.
Lord, how can I leave them? There must be a way that I can learn more from Mr. Travers and not lose time with these children I love so much.
A large, firm hand came to rest on the top of Nico’s head, still for a moment before ruffling his curls.
“You’re back, eh? Let’s hear all about the plans you’ve made for our restaurant.”
Nico wanted to stand up and grab his father, pull him close and hug him tight. But his father wasn’t very demonstrative, unlike most Italian parents he knew, and he would have to settle for his mother’s and siblings’ physical affection.
But he would have to bring up the topic of staying in Newport for an extended time to learn more from Mr. Travers.
If Mr. Travers would have him.
Maybe he should wait and ask him first, then speak to his parents about it, he considered.
No, maybe that was just a way to avoid finding out how they will react.
“You must be exhausted from your trip. Why don’t we let him finish his dinner and go to bed, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
His father nodded knowingly, but stared at Nico as if he could see something that wasn’t being said.
As if he suspected that Nico was hiding something.
Well, he thought, he was.
“That’s fine, Mama. Once the younger ones are asleep, I can tell you about it. I explained what we wanted to Mr. Travers, and he showed me what would work, and what wouldn’t, and also offered alternatives. We think it will be less expensive than we expected, but may take a few days longer.”
When his father lifted a hand and waved the words away, Nico saw the small smile that was barely visible on his face, and knew that his words had pleased the man.
His father had never been mean to him, but he was strict, and expected his children to behave well. No matter how old any of them might be, their father would be sure to correct them if he thought they were mistaken in speech or action.
Pleasing him was a reward in itself.
“I’m learning so much from him, and I believe I’d like to learn more.”
When his father leaned back, crossing his arms just as Anne Marie had done only a few moments earlier, Nico smiled.
His sister certainly didn’t take after any strangers.
His father wore a clean white t-shirt and black pants, a change of clothes after a long day at the store, as always, and his hair was damp from washing up.
Nico thought of the cool, brisk breezes on the Newport shore, how refreshing it was to stand and allow it to invigorate you after the heat had weighed you down.
Of how it tangled Faith’s shining mane of hair, and how she usually let it, uncaring of how it fluttered around her face and settled across her cheeks.
“It sounds as if we have more to talk about than the restaurant, Nicolo.”
His parents rarely used his full name, and the sound of it from his father’s lips made his siblings step closer, as if they didn’t want to miss whatever was going to happen next.
“Where is Stefan?”
His other brother was missing, but Nico suspected he was outside playing with friends. Rosetta, the sister who was closest to him in age, was most likely asleep, since she would be up early baking for the store before the heat made using the oven unbearable.
“Boys, you know how they are. Someone busted a fire hydrant and the children have been splashing in the water all day. Can’t say as I blame them, either.”
Mama shook her head, but she smiled after she spoke, then pointed at Nico’s plate.
“Finish up and get to bed. I’m sure Stefan will rush in as soon as someone reports that they saw you come into the building, so you’ll have company soon enough.”
Gino and Stefan shared a room with Nico, just as he sisters shared a small room themselves. They were fortunate that their business thrived so they could afford an apartment with three bedrooms, as many families had to share space with other families, just as the d’Amicis had when Nico was a child.
He doubted he would get much sleep tonight, and he didn’t mind his brothers assailing him with questions and stories of their adventures here in East Harlem, their own Little Italy, as the parents and grandparents in the neighborhood called it.
If Mr. Travers did come to take a look at the construction on the store, he wasn’t sure he wanted him to see where they lived. It wasn’t as if he was ashamed, but Mr. Travers and his Davenport wife, his Davenport niece, had more rooms in their homes than Nico could count, and maids to wash their clothes and their dishes.
Teresina stood at the kitchen sink, her hands in soapy water as she called out over her shoulder.
“Celli’s jealous ‘cause Anne Marie found herself a French boyfriend, and after all, he’s been waiting all this time . . .”
“I never asked him to wait!” Anne Marie snapped back.
Their father lifted a hand in the air and shook his head, his lips quirking into a half smile.
“You see, Nico, nothing has changed here. But I can see that something in you has.”