La Donna

Six

Eight more weeks had flown by and I hadn't still received any news from New York. Did people forget about me? Had sending me a word about what was happening fallen through the cracks somehow? How was Daddy doing? Is he better?
I wish I knew.
I haven't gotten any updates since I've been here in Vicari. Things must be terrible if nobody has bothered to write, but I can't dwell on things that aren't happening. I can only focus on the things that are.

Every morning after Michelangelo and I would reconsummate our marriage, we would go over to Casa Campobello for him to work and do business with other fieldowners. On Sundays, we would go to mass and then to the market where we first saw each other to buy fresh produce. After the market, we'd have dinner with his family.

It was Tuesday.
The sun beat down on me while I sat in the garden, reading and sunbathing. My husband was out in the orchard picking lemons alongside his family's employees.
Filomena was running around with a camera stuck to her face. She had picked up a new hobby.
Again.
She had grown curious about everything, decided to try anything she pleased, and moved on once she became completely versed in the matter. When I first met her, she was a painter. After painting no longer interested her, she decided to try anthropology. Once she became talented at that, the next hobby was seamstressing. Filomena was incredibly bright and she became my closest friend.

I adore her.

This time around, she took up photography. For two weeks after the wedding, she traveled to Florence to visit her mother's parents and picked up a camera there. Since then, I haven't seen her without her camera hanging from her neck or glued to her tanned face.

"Bennie," She called my name and I looked up from my book to see her with her camera on her nose. A shuttering sound went off. "That will be the best photo I've taken all day." My sister-in-law smiled. Michelangelo came over with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He removed it and gave it to me. I drew from it while he spoke.
"Stop bothering, my wife, Filomena. I need her help with the lemons." He set my book down on the grass and dragged me into the orchard.
"Your children will thank me for that photo someday!" Filomena exclaimed as we dashed off to the siloh on the far end of the farm. In the siloh were surplus crates of olive oil, lemon juice, and gunpowder. Michelangelo had managed to sneak in a barrell of wine and two glasses for us to share along with some blankets to sit on.

I messily set up a blanket on the ground and laid upon it. I hiked up my dress, removed my undergarments, and spread my legs.
Filomena mentioned children as if they were a far-off thing of the future, but little did she know we had been trying to get pregnant for the last three weeks. My husband undid his pants and slid off his boxers before climbing on top of my body. I guided him in and he began thrusting.
Heavy sighs and loud moans escaped us as we held onto each other. He managed to undo a few buttons on my dress and exposed my naked breasts.
The look of joy in his eyes whenever he saw them filled me with such heat and splendor.
It was too warm to continue wearing bras and girdles and they were only going to come off anyway, so I saw no use in keeping them out in my day-to-day wardrobe.
I let out a series of soft groans while he ravenously had his way with me.

When we finished and redressed, Michelangelo brought out the wine and the wine glasses and filled them halfway. He handed one to me and then sipped from his own. As we shared our post-coital drink, we conversed over baby names and how we hoped our children would look and be in the world.

"I like Sonata for a little girl." I smiled sweetly at my glass as I thought of my mother.
"Sonata. That is a beautiful name." My husband concured.
"It's my mother's name." I said casually and then it hit me, I was talking about my family.
"Will I get to meet your mother in America?" Michele asked. I looked at him whilst setting down my wine upon an overturned crate.