Chapter 4: A Part of the Family

My conversation with Mama Rosina began a procession of Sundays that were spent at the Mariani home. There had been some kind of conversation between Francesca, her mother and probably her father. It was assumed that I would be there if it was at all possible. What was a bit disconcerting was that Carl understood that as well. The upshot of this was that was being even more careful of my behaviour around Francesca. I wanted nothing to cause a problem between us and her family. It took a member of her family to straighten me out.

"Dal, do you have time for lunch on Saturday?" Giovanni asked when he called on Friday evening.

"Yeah ... sure. What's up?"

"Nothing special. Just thought we should get together before I have to leave."

"Okay. Where?"

"How about the Marina Pub in Richmond."

"Okay, that's not too far from the restaurant. I'm off at noon, so I'll be there before twelve-thirty. That okay?"

"See you then. Take care."

I worked five weekdays from seven until three or so, and a half-day Saturday from seven until noon. Giovanni lived at home, but obviously didn't want to meet there. Francesca and I were going out Saturday night as we usually did. I was curious what this meeting was about.

When I walked into the pub, I spotted Giovanni almost right away and was surprised to see Sam sitting with him.

"Hi," I said, sliding into the booth. "Nice to see you Sam."

"Hi, Dal. Glad you could come."

"So ... what did you want to talk about?" I asked, looking from one to the other.

"It's about Francesca," Giovanni began, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh oh," I immediately thought, "this won't be good."

"So ... what about Francesca?" I asked carefully

"How serious about her are you?" Gio asked.

I gave them what must have been a questioning look. "I'm serious about her ... but ... I'm being very careful. I know I'm out of my element with her. I'm kind of walking on eggshells, I guess. I don't want to upset her or you ... the family, I mean."

"Okay, that's pretty much what we guessed," Gio smiled. "So here's the problem, Dal. She's falling in love with you."

"What! In love with me? How can that be?"

Samantha laughed. "I told you, Gio. He's got no clue."

"You're right, I don't have a clue," I agreed.

"Look, we're here because we like you and think you're just the guy for my sister," Giovanni said. "But there's some stuff you should know about."

"What stuff?" I asked, wondering where the hell this was going.

"She's had a bad experience with a boyfriend. Actually, I shouldn't call him a boyfriend. He was a guy she met at a dance and he started calling her for a date. She finally said okay and went out with him. Once was enough. He was all over her and didn't take no for an answer. He didn't rape her, but he certainly mauled her."

"You, on the other hand, haven't touched her according to her," Sam jumped in. "On top of that, you treat her with respect and show a genuine liking for the family. Everything we know about you says you're a good guy. Now ... Fran is telling me she's fallen in love with you."

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say. "Uh, she doesn't have much experience at this, does she." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of my belief.

Samantha was shaking her head. "No ... you're right, she doesn't. I take it you don't feel the same way?"

"I don't exactly know how I feel," I confessed. "I really like her and there isn't anyone else I want to be with. I guess I'm still thinking she's out of reach. She comes from a big family ... a big, wealthy family. That's not where I'm from. I'm basically an orphan living in my own home. I keep feeling that I don't fit with your family. I keep waiting for the balloon to pop. I wish it wasn't so, but ... I'm afraid it is."

Both were shaking their heads at me.

"You're wrong, Dal," Giovanni said. "You fit just fine. We weren't always rich and we all were taught to remember that. Everything we have my parents and grandparents earned. Everything we've been told about you and our past says you're just like us. You aren't looking for a free ride.

"Wait!" he laughed. "Let me take that back. So, we know about the university thing, but that was an attempt to better yourself. You don't have anything to be ashamed of, Dal.""

You've done a hell of a job growing up without any help. You should be proud of that," Samantha added.

I sat thinking about what they said. I never felt proud of stealing those two years at UBC. I didn't think of what it took to survive after the death of my parents. I just did what I had to do. What was so noble about that?

"I think you're giving me too much credit. But I guess that's not the point of this, is it? I could easily fall in love with Francesca. Maybe I already have and don't realize it. I've never been in love before, so I don't know what it feels like. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Tell her how you feel about her," Sam said, "and ask her how she feels about you. You don't have to worry about the rest of the family. They already like you and accept you as Francesca's boyfriend. Take a chance, Dal."

I thought for a few moments before I spoke, addressing myself to Giovanni.

"What if I did fall in love with her? What if I asked her to marry me? What would happen then?"

He grinned. "Then, I guess there would be a party like we're going to have when Sam and I announce our engagement."

"Oh ... I didn't know," I said in surprise. "Congratulations, Gio. You couldn't do better," I said looking directly at Samantha.

"Here's a news bulletin for you," Samantha grinned. "I come from a middle class family, just like you. I'm not from some society page background. I'm just like you and I've been accepted. Take a chance, Dal. Take a chance."

I had a lot to think about. First and foremost, how did I feel about Francesca? If Gio and Sam were right, I didn't have to worry about whether I fit in their level of society. I could be accepted as who I was. If they were right. But it still left the question of my feelings for Francesca. Was I being pushed ahead of where I wanted to be? I could feel some pressure, although it wasn't coming from Francesca. There was only one way to resolve this and that was to talk to her.

She was in her last year of university, working toward a degree in business. I was going down the same path, but by a different route. I was a year or more away from completing my correspondence studies. And when I finished, I would be obligated to work with Carl Villano, since he had been my sponsor and paid my tuition. I was also grateful for the job that made all of my future possible.

We saw each other only on the weekends. We would date informally on Friday night unless Francesca was cramming for exams or had a term paper due. I had neither pressure, but if my girlfriend wasn't available, I would usually take the opportunity to do some homework. Saturday was our regular date night and Sunday was the family dinner. I was expected to be there.

I decided that the time to talk to Francesca would be the first Friday we were both free. It turned out to be the first one after my conversation with her brother and his fiancée. I thought about inviting her to my home, but changed my mind. I thought somewhere neutral would be better. I wanted privacy, but I was having trouble figuring out what would work. The weather had turned rainy and cool, making sitting in the car a less pleasant choice. However, I didn't have a better idea, so it would have to do.

My Cressida didn't have a bench seat, and there was a sizeable gap between the front seats, but they were comfortable and gave us enough space to not be cramped when the seats were all the way back. I hadn't said anything about where I was taking Francesca when I called her and I didn't want to make it sound like this was something serious even though, to me, it was. We ended up where Francesca had led me on our first date, Spanish Banks. We were the only car in the lot and, between the dark and the rain, there was little to see.

"Why did you come here?" she asked as I parked the car.

"To talk. Just you and I ... away from anyone else."

She looked concerned if her eyes were any indication.

"Are you going to dump me?" she asked in a timid voice.

"NO!" I responded immediately. "No ... nothing like that. No ... if anyone was going to do any dumping, it would be you."

"Then ... what's this about?" She still looked very nervous and uncertain.