Authors: Cynthia Freeman
Then all too quickly the hours slipped away and that one special day that she had dreamed of all these years, seeing her daughter marry, was coming to an end as Tish went upstairs to change into her going away pink silk suit. Now all the guests were assembled in the drawing room and entry foyer, waiting for her to walk down the circular staircase with her husband at her side. Leticia recalled watching them as out of a dream and the reality of the culmination of all the years brought tears of joy. Quickly, Andrew handed his handkerchief to her as she wiped them away. There were then the sounds of good-byes amid handshakes and kisses, embraces and best wishes, and hand waving … and it was over as the Stevenses along with the Rossis and the guests waited on the front terrace watching the small convertible disappear. Leticia sighed … it had been a day long to be remembered. Now, after all the excitement, the house seemed so quiet… too quiet this morning. Then she smiled and thought it won’t be so quiet in a little while … there are compensations to being Catholic after all … and suddenly, the idea of being a grandmother pleased her very much.
It was a tearful Catherine who stood waiting at the air terminal. Her family had dispersed until flight time. She could see the boys at the newsstand. Dominic, his mother and the Stevenses had gone to the coffee shop, but here she sat with her mother alone.
“Won’t you please come on back and stay for just a little while longer, Mama?”
“No, darlin’, much as I’d love to, I think it’s time to go home.”
“But why, Mama … I really miss you so and I need your comfort and companionship.”
“I don’t think you need me that much anymore, Catherine, baby … we had a job to do and, with a lot of help from the Lord, we accomplished it, didn’t we?”
“Not we, you … it was you.”
“I only helped, but God was on your side.”
“I don’t know if he was or not … why kid ourselves, Mama … Dominic didn’t come back because he wanted to.”
“Well, even if that’s the case, the point is you wanted him for better or for worse … now, be honest with yourself … how was it livin’ without him? Isn’t this better … in spite of the compromises?”
“I suppose …”
“Of course, it is. You were Mrs. Dominic Rossi at your son’s wedding and you two were together … now, that was somethin’, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose …”
“Come now, Catherine, you’ve got an awful lot. You’ve got all the years ahead, watchin’ your children go through what we saw this last week.”
“I suppose I’m just not satisfied. I want Dominic to love me … really love.”
“I think he does, Catherine … not like he once did, don’t hope for that. But the point is, he’s kind, and considerate …
livable
with, let’s say, which is more than a lot of women have, livin’ out their lives with some men.”
“But Mama, I know he still loves her and
wants her, a woman just knows at those moments … in bed.”
“Maybe, but she hasn’t got him, you have … no matter how. Now, Catherine, when you get home, try and do somethin’ … get interested in somethin’. If you do, then you won’t be dwellin’ about how much you’re needin’.”
Catherine sat with her hand holding her mother’s … “Mama … I’m really so lonely … won’t you come back for just a little while and then when you leave, I’ll take your advice and get interested in somethin’, but just for a while, come back … please?”
Violet Posata looked at her child … that’s what she was, a child calling out in the wilderness.
“Just until Dom comes home from his honeymoon … please?”
Violet sighed, “Catherine, baby, you have to understand everyone has to go home and I’ve got to go home. I have other children and I haven’t seen Rosa Ann in a long time.”
Catherine’s lips tightened, “I’m furious at Rosa Ann.”
“Now, that’s not fair, Catherine. She couldn’t leave her husband.”
“Oh, now, Mama, she could have come to the wedding. Nick had his stroke a year ago. After all, I wanted my own sister present. There were
plenty of Rossis
who came.”
“Maybe,” Violet said, “but not when he’s bedridden. I’m sorry, Catherine, you’re wrong.”
Catherine started to cry, “You’re angry at me now.”
Gently, she answered, “No, I just think you should be more understandin’ … try, Catherine … for the love of God, Catherine, try and you’ll be a happier person.”
She took Catherine’s head and placed it against her shoulder. “Don’t cry, darlin’, we have to learn to take the adjustments.”
“I know, Mama, but sometimes it’s not easy,” Catherine said, trying to hold back the tears.
“I know, love … but that’s why we have to learn not to be tempted with dreams of what we would like life to be … it’s so much easier to accept it as it is.”
Drying her tears, Catherine said, “You’re right, Mama … always so wise, you’re my strength … that’s why I miss you so much.”
“Well, sugar, as long as I’m still around, you’ve got me … but darlin’, you’ve gotta develop your own strengths.”
“I’ve never learned … learned how, and at this late date, I guess I never will.”
“I don’t believe we’re ever too old to learn or to change if we want to.”
Catherine heard the announcement, “Flight 82 will be boarding …” The voice trailed off as Catherine looked once again at her mother and the last remaining minutes were spent in good-byes as the family and the Stevenses now stood clustered around. Dominic shook hands with Andrew, kissed Leticia, as did the children, then Catherine embraced Leticia.
“It was beautiful … everythin’ was beautiful … I’m so happy about the children and happy the Stevenses have been added to our family.”
“What a lovely thing to say, Catherine, and the Stevenses are privileged to be a part of you.”
At the immediate moment, all the foolish resentment was forgotten … the preconceived determination to dislike Leticia she found impossible. Holding Leticia’s hand, she said, “Come and see us soon.”
“We will, Catherine, I promise … the minute Andrew finds the time.”
“Take care and … Leticia?”
“Yes, Catherine?”
“Thank you … thank you for everythin’ … the weddin’. What I’m tryin’ to say is thank you, for allowin’ the children to be married by Father Daini …” Catherine heard herself saying things she hadn’t been able to express till now because of pride … she would not allow the Stevenses nor give them the satisfaction to think they were bestowing a great favor upon the Rossis, giving Leticia a sense of superiority. But Mama’s words must have mellowed and humbled her. Also, the Stevens’s graciousness and hospitality had broken down her defenses … somewhere, deep down, the revelation had its reward. In spite of herself, she felt calmly happy. Catherine had made a friend in Leticia. Then things happened so quickly as Dominic took her by the arm and led her down the runway. Just before boarding, she looked back and saw the Stevenses standing with her mother. Grateful to them that they would wait and see Mama off… on her way back home … back to New Orleans. She walked up the landing steps with a feeling of foreboding … a feeling she could not dispel, even after they were airborne, that this would be the last time she would see her mother. The thought was too frightening to contemplate that one day, Mama would be gone and no longer would she be anyone’s child.
B
UT THANK GOD HER
fearful premonition had been an unfounded fantasy. A year and a half had passed since that day. “Mama,” Catherine said, excitedly, via long distance, “your Catherine’s a grandmother.”
“Oh, darlin’, I’ve been waitin’ for this happy moment … you must all be walkin’ on clouds.”
“Oh, Mama, you have no idea … I’m so excited, I forgot to tell you we’ve got a precious little boy.”
“Well, God bless you all. How’s Dominic holdin’ up?” she laughed.
“Like no one in the world’s been a grandfather before … guess what Tish named the baby?”
“Dominic.”
“That’s it … Dominic Andrew Rossi.”
“And Leticia …”
“Standin’ right here waitin’ to say hello.” Catherine handed the phone to her.
“Mama Posata, how
are
you?”
“I’m fine and I don’t have to ask how you are … tell me about Tish.”
“Came through it like a Rossi… the only problem was Dom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a new father suffer so much … he just had the worst kind of labor pains.”
They both laughed. “And Andrew?”
“Arguing with Dominic that the baby looks like him.”
“Well, I won’t say that was the worst fate in the world a child could suffer.”
“Neither does he, but after twenty minutes, it’s a little too early to tell.”
“Keep appeasin’ him.”
“Not in front of Dominic, I won’t.”
“Well, God willin’, I’m comin’ out just as soon as can.
“I probably won’t be here by that time … Andrew’s got to get back, but I know everyone will be thrilled to see you. Keep well, come and see us when we all simmer down … I’ll say good-bye. Now, here’s Catherine.”
In the next few years there were many special reasons to keep Mama informed about activities that took place within the family. Tory no sooner graduated from Harvard, with his name added to the growing list on the door of the Rossi law firm, than he married a girl from Los Angeles. In spite of the fact that exotic, doe-eyed, raven-haired, olive-complexioned Joanna Razeni was Catholic and her Daddy very rich, Catherine found reason to vent her complaints. “Mama,” Catherine said, holding the receiver in her right hand, “I’m not at all happy about this marriage.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the girl? From what I understood when Tory called and told me, she’s just beautiful… lovely girl, fine family. What’s your …”
Catherine interrupted, quickly, “Beautiful! Fine family? They’re rich, but common … wait till you meet her … she’s coarse and common … usin’ all that eye makeup. You know as well as I that havin’ money doesn’t buy breedin’—and besides, she doesn’t have the kind of warmth the Posatas respond to. She’s not Tish, I’ll tell you that.”
“Well, you weren’t too choked up about that in the beginnin’.”
“What!
Why, how can you say that? I was thrilled from the very beginnin’… I think you’re a little confused.”
Mama Posata smiled as she lay stretched out in the large bed in New Orleans listening to Catherine ramble on.
“My main objection was Tish’s not bein’ Catholic … now, you surely remember that?”
Mama stifled a laugh. “My memory’s comin’ back. But what about this one … she’s Italian and Catholic?”
“So … that doesn’t mean she’s the kinda girl I would have picked for a daughter-in-law.”
“Maybe … but it wasn’t up to you, it was Tory’s privilege to make his own choice.”
“Whoa … now, you hold on for just a cotton-pickin’ minute, Mama … remember?
Remember?”
Across two thousand miles of telephone wire a bewildered Violet Posata asked, “Remember what? What am I supposed to remember?”
“How you influenced me into marryin’ Dominic,” Catherine answered, her anger mounting the more she thought about it.
Putting her hand over the mouthpiece, Mama laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes. Then she choked as the laughter began to subside. “You all right, Mama?” Catherine called through the phone.
Recovering her voice, Mama answered, “I’m fine … just a little coughin’ spell … now what was this about me influencin’ you?”
“Well, you did … didn’t you?”
“I surely did and do you remember why?”
“You bet I do,” Catherine answered, with mild rancor, “you were afraid I was gonna be an old maid … and, Mama, much as I love you … there have been a good many times, as you well know, I haven’t thanked you for pushin’ me.”
One thing Violet prided herself on was that she loved Catherine in spite of all her faults, but a mother’s not a husband. You bet I was afraid. Dominic might have had second thoughts findin’ out about how tempestuous you can really be, so I urged Cupid along a little…. “I’m sorry you feel I influenced you badly, Catherine … but let’s not forget you were pretty much in love with Dominic, as I recall. Even if it pleases you to think you were pressured into marriage … knowin’ you as I do, I don’t think a team of wild horses could have stopped you from marryin’ him …now, isn’t that the truth, Catherine?”
She didn’t answer for a moment, then laughing as though she’d been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, she said, “That’s the truth, Mama.”
“Well, then, Catherine, you’ve gotta put things in their proper perspective … you can’t go around blamin’ me for somethin’ I thought was right.”
“I know, Mama … it’s just when I get all steamed up, I sorta lose my straight thinkin’.”
“Well, I suppose most of us are likely to do that. Somewhere, down deep, it makes us feel better if we think we’ve been victimized … now, tell me about the other children.”
“Well, the twins are fine. Of course, Dominic still hasn’t recovered from the shock of the twins goin’ over to Berkeley instead of Harvard. I swear, Mama, sometimes the reality of life does get a little bit too much to handle … now, don’t be confusin’ me by a lot of logic about this. I don’t understand the rebellion that’s goin’ on with these young people … seems that parents have lost their influence.”
“I know, Catherine, baby, you just said I was too influential with you and …”
“This is somethin’ entirely different,” Catherine interrupted, “I just had to put my foot down on one thing.”
“And what’s that, baby?”
“No long hair … sandals or that dreadful thing … they call pot.”
“That’s sensible … just hope those outside influences don’t creep into your good intentions.”
“They better damn well not!”
“And if they do, what then?”
“Oh, I’ll think about somethin’ to do ’cause one thing I’m not gonna have is the effort I poured into those kids findin’ no reward.”
“I know you will, Catherine, you’re a good mother … Roberto’s fine, I hope.”
“Yes,” Catherine answered, slowly, “yes, but I’m concerned about him.”
“Why?”
“Well, he doesn’t come home as often as I’d like. Lives in that studio. I’m not sure that he eats right… or … oh well, the point is he’s an artist and you have to give in to people like that. They’re just different.”