Fifty years of Love & Secrets

Roberto Ferrante 77, married for 50 years to Bianca, 73. Father of Riccardo 43, Christiano 41, Marcello 39 and Valentina 37. They have twenty-one grandchildren. I roll over to my other side and the bed is empty, I search with my hand, but only feel cold sheets. Grumbling, I throw off the duvet and step into my slippers next to the bed. I grab my bathrobe and go looking for my wife. I used to jump up, and shout and my heart would beat faster, for fear that she would be gone. But not anymore. I know she's safe. Thirteen years ago we moved to Cliffs. I never expected to ever experience this day. The day none of my children do anything dangerous, I mean. That I would be with Bianca for the rest of my life, I knew that the moment I saw her. That made my father choose me as his successor, not my brother Fabio or my other older brother Matteo. Fabio got married, like a lot at the time, because it was convenient. Because the woman who was offered to him had a certain status and gave certain benefits. Just like Matteo, he also married Maria because our father and Maria's father wanted it. I refused every woman, much to my father's annoyance and my mother's grief. Until I saw Bianca and I knew immediately that she would be the woman for me. Marrying her would have no advantage whatsoever. Her father already worked for my father. If it did anything at all, it was more the confirmation that we were more family than business partners. I immediately knew it when I saw Bianca, her beautiful black hair and dark eyes. Matching mine. So innocent, sweet, and caring, but strong and she stood for what she wanted. That attracted me to her. She was fifteen when I spoke to her for the first time, I was already twenty. Even then she had my attention, but she was too young and I had to wait. When she was finally eighteen, I asked her out, she shook her head at me. "I don't go out with everyone." She answered. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Fifty-five years ago I walk across the street, on my way to Bianca Porrito's house. She turned eighteen yesterday. She had a party, but I couldn't attend. I have the gift for her in the inside pocket of my jacket. She is sweeping the sidewalk in front of the house as I walk around the corner of the street. When I'm closer she looks up. Her beautiful brown eyes get a little bigger when she sees me and she quickly looks away. I stop right in front of her and she stops sweeping. "Bianca." She looks up at me and her cheeks turn pink, matching the summer dress she's wearing. "Roberto." Her voice is soft. "Congratulations." She nods but still doesn't look at me. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there yesterday." Again she nods. I lift her chin with my fingers and our eyes find each other. Her cheeks become redder. "Do you want to go out with me?" I ask her and her eyes grow big. She steps back and shakes her head. "That's not a good idea Roberto." She answers me. "Why not?" my forehead frowns and I feel rage bubbling inside me. Bianca is the youngest in her family, and her older sister is not yet married, she can't already have someone else, can she? "Your reputation Roberto." She sighs and bites her lip. "It doesn't matter to the neighborhood that we only have a date, everyone knows how you are Roberto, and people will talk badly about me." I step further toward her and Bianca steps back. Until I push her against the door of her house. Her chest goes up and down, her cheeks pinker than her dress, but I'm determined. "But I know I want you, Bianca," I tell her. "Why?" I see the questions wandering in her eyes. "Exactly because of this, you are not afraid to give your opinion, you dare to contradict me, and not entirely unimportant, you are beautiful." She swallows and I'm sure if I kissed her now she would answer the kiss, if I touched her breasts her n*****s would be hard and if I let my hand slide between her legs, I would feel how wet she would be for me. "You can't just do this Roberto." She tells me. I nod to her. I know enough. I carefully open the door and make sure Bianca doesn't fall backward. "Is your father in his office?" I ask. Bianca steps aside "Si." "Ah Roberto, I have the envelope for your father here. He told me al-" Andreas Porrito starts talking to me as soon as I walk into his office, but he stops when I hold up my hand. "I'm not here for business Mr. Porrito," I tell him and I think he hears it in my voice. He lowers the hand with the envelope and nods. He points out for me to sit down. Opposite him in one of the armchairs. "I'm here for your daughter, I want to marry her," I tell him and hear the gasp from I suspect Bianca behind me. Andreas nods very slowly "Which daughter?" he asks. "Bianca." "My youngest." "Si" "Where were you yesterday?" he asks. "Business sir," I answer him. I can't tell him where I was yesterday. I never tell the things I do. I was raised by my father. He and my brothers know where I was, no one else. Those are the rules. He nods and picks up the phone from his desk. I hear how he asks in Italian to speak to my father urgently. I recognize my father's booming voice on the other end of the phone and both speak Italian to each other. My parents' grandparents were the first to come to America, everyone was born in America, but Italian is still spoken at home. "Let's go to the living room." Andreas gets up and I follow him. He calls for his wife and Bianca. Bianca sits down on the couch between her parents when my parents arrive. I sit next to my father and on the other side next to him is my mother. Bianca doesn't look up all the time when our parents talk to each other about a relationship and a marriage between the two of us. She looks at her lap and plucks at her dress. Our fathers get up and stretch out their hands to each other. "Wait." Her voice is soft but loud enough that everyone hears it. She doesn't look at our fathers, she doesn't look at her mother, she doesn't look at her lap anymore. Her eyes are on me and when I nod for her to speak she swallows. "I have conditions." Our mothers gasps, and her father turns to her and begins to rebuke her in Italian. "Stop." I also get up, and I feel the eyes of everyone in the room go to me. I am not in a position to stop her father, nor in the position to decide anything about this, but my father steps aside for me and orders Andreas to do the same. I reach out my hand to Bianca and she accepts it when she gets up. I hold her hand and when she looks down again, I make her look at me again. "Tell me." "You're a murderer." She starts and I nod "Si." "You're doing dangerous things." Again I confirm and she mentions more things she has heard. Some are true, and some a lies. And that’s what I tell her. "Bianca, you are safe with me. I would never hurt you and I will always protect you. You will never see it, you will never notice it. It's my job, not my life." I promise her. She nods. "I'm only eighteen, I would love to wait, to work, to learn things." She says in her soft voice, but her eyes are on me this time without my help. "How long?" I ask. "at least three years." She answers me. "I would like to drink champagne myself at my wedding." Her cheeks turn red again and I can't help but grin. I nod. "And one more thing." She clears her throat and she turns her eyes away, I can see that she finds this the hardest thing to say. "No other women." I scoff and she quickly looks at me. "I should throw you over my knee that you think that way about me," I answer her. "If I say it's you for me, Bianca, then it's you for me and that's the end of the discussion. Is that clear?" She bites her lip and I squeeze her hand. "Am I clear?" I ask her again. Don't get me wrong, I would do anything for her, but she's not going to offend me. There I draw a line. She nods and I grab her face, maybe a little harder than I should and she blinks her eyes quickly, startled by my reaction. "I didn’t hear anything." "Sorry Roberto, you were clear." I gently kiss her cheek and let go of her chin; it seems like her cheeks can't get any redder. "I'm not looking for a woman who does everything I want, I'm looking for an equal partner, someone I love as much as she loves me," I tell her. She nods and a tear rolls down her cheek, which I wipe away with my thumb. I take the box out of my pocket and give it to her. She has confusion on her face but opens the box and gasps. She looks up at me with big eyes. "May I?" I ask her and when she nods I take the gold necklace out of the box. She turns around and puts her long black hair aside so I can put the necklace on. I have to restrain myself not to kiss her neck, so I grab her hair and put it back over her shoulders and her back. Bianca turns around and rolls the white oval diamond between her fingers. "Son." My father gets up and for a moment I'm afraid he doesn't agree with this. But instead, he puts a hand on my shoulder and takes a box out of his pocket. "My mother gave it to me and told me to give it to the son who listened to his heart." Now it's only my mother who breathes in quickly. I look at the box and I know what's in it. My grandparents' ring. The same rings my parents wear. The rings that, if I accept them, let everyone know that I will have to take my role as head of the family. That I'm going to take over from my father and not one of my two older brothers. With an oblique eye I look at Bianca, she has no idea what this means. She has no idea that what I just promised her will be a whole lot harder. "Are you sure?" I ask my father and he nods. I take the box from him and open it. There are four rings in it. My grandfather's signet ring and wedding ring, my grandmother's engagement ring, and my grandmother's wedding ring. My father takes the signet ring and my hand to slide it around my middle finger. Then I grab the engagement ring and close the box. I get down on one knee in front of Bianca and look up at her. I don't have to say anything, Bianca extends her hand and lets me slide the ring around her finger. When I get up she steps into my arms and puts her head against my chest and I caress her back.