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Erik
Chapter 63
The Announcement
It wasn't long at all before Vincenzo and Luciana were married.
He asked for her hand a month after the start of their courtship. I think the only reason they took the month at all was to see how they'd fair as a couple - it wasn't as though they really needed time to get to know each other. They'd been friends for years.
Two months after their engagement, they were husband and wife.
It hurt. Every time I thought about it, I felt my heart break a little bit more. But I had to be happy for them. I had to put on a smile and congratulate their love. She wasn't mine. She never had been. I couldn't let them know of my feelings; I had to stop feeling so envious.
I had to accept that this was how things were and keep moving.
I decided that staying idle was doing me no good. So I made myself busy instead. I studied languages. I continued my skills: old ones like music and more recent ones like engineering. I took on brand new skills.
Self-defense, for example.
The type of self-defense that Giovanni would teach me was the same that he taught Luciana. How to use fists and feet. Everyday objects. Knives.
Lassos.
Lasso-work was today's lesson. It had been yesterday's as well.
Giovanni stood facing me on the Inn's flat roof. He had one hand behind his back; the other held to his cane. Even with the limp, he stood tall. Take the cane away and no one would never know.
"Now," he said, and smiled, "the lasso, being a larger weapon, is good to use only if you can hide it. Bring it if you are wearing a large jacket...a long coat...robes, perhaps. Something with substantial pockets. But the rope shouldn't be too thick, or it will never fit in any type of clothing. Too thin, and it is easily broken. But we discussed all of this last time, didn't we?"
"Yes, sir." In the cold winter air, I wore my mask and, indeed, a knee-length coat.
"And you did as I asked?"
"Yes, sir," I said again, and reached into the pocket of the coat, bringing out the lasso I'd made. He'd taught me how to tie the knot; I practiced last night with this rope, as per his instructions, until I had it correct.
"Excellent." He brought out his own lasso from his jacket. "Now, watch my hand for how I throw it."
He practiced with me for hours, nonstop, until the sun began to set. Never impatient - at least, his face didn't reveal the emotion. Completely understanding of mistakes. I believed I almost had it down to perfection when he put his lasso away.
"Very good, Erik." He nodded approvingly. "That was excellent. We will continue this tomorrow."
My wrist and arm were sore, but I felt determination. "Sir, I can continue. I am not in the least bit tired."
"Ah, but I am." Giovanni smiled at me. "Go and fetch Carmelo. Get the table in the cellar ready for dinner. Food should be ready in..." He checked his pocket-watch. "Oh, I'd say a half an hour, if the cooks are truthful."
"Yes, sir." I wanted to ask him, as always, if he wanted any help down the stairs. But I'd offered him help before, and he always said no. That he'd rather take ten minutes on his own than two minutes leaning on someone else. I would keep quiet.
"I took a peek into the kitchen. We are having steak."
Carmelo and I set the table with plates, napkins, glasses and silverware. Carmelo worked quickly. I found, after knowing him a while, that he enjoyed simple, repetitive tasks such as this. Complex tasks like reading, unless he had great interest, were a lost cause.
I looked up at him from the plate I'd just set down in Vincenzo's spot. "Oh, yes?" To be honest, I didn't care. Food was something I consumed to survive; Carmelo looked forward to meals.
"Yes." He smiled. "Green beans, it looks like, as well. Pasta. And for dessert, cannelloni."
I looked at him quizzically. I'd had cannelloni before - it certainly wasn't a baked good. "Isn't that also a pasta dish?"
He blinked, and then laughed. "Yes. Sorry. Not cannelloni...er. It's...it's the tube dessert with cream filling."
I knew immediately what he was talking about. "Do you mean-"
"No, don't tell me!" He put up his hands. "I want to try to figure it out."
I smirked and continued setting the table.
"Cantoli."
"No."
"Hm. Cantoli...Cannetoli? Catolini."
"You're getting further away." I grinned.
"Don't tell me though."
"How is it," I asked, "that the native Italian speaker can't remember the word, but the Frenchman can?"
He thought, then his face lit up. "Cannelloni! No."
I laughed.
He continued setting the table with me, muttering to himself iterations of the wrong answer, when he at last let out a gasp. "Cannoli!"
"There it is," I said.
"What about cannoli?"
Salvatore, who'd just spoken, and Vincenzo descended the stairs with platters of food; this was the norm. Carmelo and I set the table; Salvatore and Vincenzo brought dinner from the kitchen. Luciana and one other person helped clear. Before, it had been her and me. Now it was her and her new husband.
"We are having it," responded Carmelo.
"Oh. Yes. I can see that. I have them in my right hand."
They dropped the food in the middle of the table. Giovanni and Luciana arrived, and we all sat to first pray, and then eat. As I sat next to Carmelo and Salvatore, I had to keep my eyes averted from the rings on Vincenzo's and Luciana's fingers.
I started into the pasta, and after some time, Vincenzo stood and tapped his fork against his wine glass. Everyone turned to look. He smiled his handsome smile, looking elated. Luciana looked happy as well.
"I have an announcement to make." He nodded to Luciana's father. "Giovanni already knows."
Giovanni nodded back, eyes shining.
"We are excited to tell you all," he said, "that Luciana and I are expecting."
