Florence, pre-WWII: (told from Ilaria's P.O.V.)
I rode into the front of our apartment building on my bike. I'd become quite good at riding with a dress on, though it helped that I'd been riding since I was a child. I hopped off the seat and brushed the front of my skirt off. Then I gathered the bouquet of flowers and fresh fruit into my arms before making my way inside.
My father and I lived on one of the busier streets in Florence. I'd only ever known life inside a massive city. Papa was the curator for the Uffizi, which we resided not far from. He moved up to Florence when he came here looking for work when he was just my age. Then he met my mother and one thing led to another. Admittedly she was born into a higher class than him, so we never had much contact with her side; especially after she died. Still, her inheritance did allow for us to stay in the centre of Florence- something very special indeed.
I carried my flowers and fruit up to our two-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor. Papa was in the living room, reading his newspaper when I arrived. Of course I flashed him a smile as I set everything down onto the small kitchen table. "Morning, Papa. I got you some peaches." "Thank you, cara," that was his pet-name for me. Then he folded up his newspaper and placed it down onto the coffee table. He patted the sofa cushion beside him while looking at me. "Come sit down, Ilaria. There's something we have to talk about," his voice was peppered with hesitation and sadness.
Being the good, obedient daughter that I am, I immediately went to sit down. I smoothed out my dress and clasped my hands onto my lap, patiently waiting for Papa to begin. He drew in a deep breath, not looking my way as he did so. His thumbs rose and lowered a few times on his knees.
"Do you remember your Zio Massimo? The fisherman in my hometown of Portorosso?" "Yes, I remember Zio Massimo. How could I forget? He's your older brother," I grinned pleasantly. Papa's eyes gazed over to me and he let out a sigh. "Well he's….. getting on in years, and he no wife or children of his own. He took over your nonno's fishing business when Nonno retired. Now there's no one left to over the business after him….. So that he might retire someday."
I said nothing, though I knew this wasn't heading in the direction of me taking over Zio Massimo's fishing boat. A girl like me who's lived her whole life in a big city and never step foot on a boat? It was out of the question. But I still wondered- somewhat nervously- why Papa brought this up to me now? He sighed yet again as his head fell a bit forward. His eyes tore away from me.
"I've discussed it with your uncle, and we've made a decision. You will go live with Massimo in Portorosso. There you will find yourself a husband- someone who will take over the family business in your uncle's place." My eyes widened; my heart stopped beating for a second. A-A husband? Me? But I was only seventeen years old! Granted, I would be eighteen soon, but still! Me move to Portorosso and marry there? That's means I would spend the rest of my life down south….. away from Florence. My hand raised up to my chest; still, I said nothing, too shell-shocked to utter a word.
Papa waited a moment, gaging my reaction before continuing. "It is the perfect time. Zio Massimo is still young enough to teach your husband the ropes of the business, and you are young to find a husband. I know this is sudden, Ilaria, but this is what is best for our family. Your uncle's business will serve as your dowery, and you will inherit any wealth I've accumulated when I die. Does that sound fair?" "I….. I….." My mouth couldn't formulate a full sentence. Papa's broad hand reached over to pat mine.
"Do not worry, cara. There's time. You do not have to get married right this summer, but always bear in mind the reason you are going to Portorosso. Your Zio Massimo needs this and neither of us has a son to take over after him. A son-in-law is the next best thing. Do you understand?"
Papa asked me this and I peered up to his face; his sad, sullen face. This wouldn't be a sacrifice only on my part; I was all he had left after Mama died. He hadn't seen his brother or any of his family down south since I was a young child. And here he was, offering his only child's hand in marriage to help his brother…. He truly practiced what he preached and put his family first. Forcing a smile, I rested my hand overtop Papa's. "You are right, Papa. This is best. I will…. do what's best for the Marcovaldo family."