La Donna

One

It was the spring of 1946. My older brother, Gianni was getting married and I was home in New York after being a war nurse out in Italy for two years.

While I was a nurse, I met a handsome Irish-American soldier named Adam Keary. Adam had been shot by a Nazi as he was sifting through church rubble for any valuables that could be saved. Not long after his second week in the infirmary, he was recovering ahead of schedule and we began to bond. We connected over growing up devout Catholics, having absurdly large families, and our love for action movies. It didn't take much for us to realize that we were head-over-heels for each other.

Once the war was over and we had been cleared by our superiors, I grabbed Adam by the hand and brought him to New York with me to meet my absurdly large, Catholic, Italian family.

"You're going to be fine. They'll all love you just like I do." I primped my boyfriend's uniform as we walked to the gate of my family's massive compound. Adam stopped our strides and took my hands into his. We locked eyes for a brief moment, shared a smile, and knew that everything was going to be alright.
"Ti amo, Benedetta." He kissed me sweetly. "Ti amo." I kissed him once more.

"Hey! Bennie's home!"

The sound of my cousin Luca's voice thrashed our sweet moment in two. It wasn't long before we were met by more of my extended family members, who sheparded us into the party. Warm welcomes were given as Adam tried to keep track of everyone grabbing him.

"Benedetta," My mother, Sonata, greeted me with a hug and a kiss prior to asking about the uniformed man beside me. "Chi è questo?" She asked in Italian.
"Mama, this is Adam. I was his nurse in Italy." I noted. "Lui è il mio fidanzato è vuole parlare a Padre. Ha una domanda importante vuole chiedere." I switched into Italian and spoke in a secretive tone. I only spoke Italian when it came to important matters.
Adam wanted to ask my father for his blessing because he wants to marry me.
And the truth is: He didn't know that I found a claddagh ring in his suitcase when I helped him pack for the trip here. I knew what claddagh rings were for Irish people. They're engagement and wedding rings. The one I found was an antique gold ring, so it must be an heirloom of some sort.
"Lui è Italiano?" She asked whilst eyeing him carefully and I hesitated to answer. I knew she was looking for some sort of calling-card that made him look or seem Italian. Her espresso colored eyes examined his facial features carefully to see if his cheeks or nose could give away any Italian heritage.
"Cattolico, si." I replied anecdotally. Me marrying a non-Italian man was one thing I wasn't supposed to do. I was supposed to marry another Italian, have Italian babies, and devote my life to the Lord until it was my time to meet Him.
"Benedetta," Her voice dropped. Suddenly, I was six years old again. I was a little girl being chastised for giggling at a dirty magazine with my brothers in Nonno's garden.

Quickly, I snapped out of the memory and smiled warmly at Adam.
"Why don't we go get a table and have some cake?" I suggested in order to get out of the cross-hairs.
We walked away from my mother and found an empty table to sit at. White-gloved servers quickly set down slices of cake in front of us.
"Your mother hates me," Adam beat himself up.
"My mother doesn't hate you." I countered.
"She gave me a serious stink-eye when she asked if I was Italian." He noted.
"You're Catholic- That should be good enough."  I shrugged off his worries.
"Bennie, I'm Irish-Catholic. I was born in Baltimore. My parents are from Mullingar, Ireland. My last name is Keary for goodness' sake. You could've told her that." My beau stated off a list of facts about himself while I took another bite of wedding cake.
"I'm under the impression you didn't tell anyone about us." He noted. I set down my fork and contemplated my next move.
Before I could even blink, my cousin Carlo whispered in my ear that my father requested to see Adam.
Guess word still travels fast around the family.
"Well, now I don't have to because my father wants to meet you." I let out a sigh.
"Where is he?" Adam began to look around the backyard for my father's presence.
"He's," I glanced up at my cousin as he waited for us to take the order. "He's in his office." I stood up from the table to follow Carlo, who was at least ten feet away; headed toward the house.
"His office? Why isn't he out here enjoying the party?" My boyfriend asked.
"Adam, you can't ask those kinds of questions." I replied. "I'll wait right outside the door for you." I took his hand to lead him into my family's palatial compound.