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Emmanuel and Leonardo both got out of the car in some kind of weird synchronization. Everything happened so quickly that they didn’t even have a chance to close their doors.

The woman on the porch immediately started crying.

“Ahh mi pronipoti!” she called, walking spryly towards the men. They moved closer together as the woman hugged one, then the other.

Was that their grandmother?She didn’t look like she was in her eighties.

Then there was a slew of rapid Italian between the woman and Leonardo. Finally, Agnella stopped and held Manny’s hands.

“Your brother tells me you don’t speak Italian. The first thing you must learn is the word grandmother. You will call me Nonna. Ahh, you two are so handsome.” She laughed as she patted their cheeks. “You both look like my brother. Except for the eyes. His were green. This is like looking into the past. You two must come in. I cooked. We will eat and talk.”

The scene mesmerized Ivy. It was Frank who broke her concentration by leaning over her seat. “Look at those genes. Nonna looks so young.”

“Who is in the car?” Agnella asked, although she was already moving towards the passenger seat where Ivy sat.

“That is my wife, Ivy,” Emmanuel answered.

“So beautiful. Come out of the car.” Agnella called while she reached for Ivy’s door. She barely had time to unbuckle her seat belt before the woman had the door opened. Once Ivy got out of the car, Agnella engulfed her in a hug that robbed her of her breath for a moment.

“You must call me Nonna as well. You must come in. Who is that?” she asked, pointing to where Frank sat in the back seat.

“Oh, he’s, my cousin.”

Ivy was released, and Nonna clapped. “This is wonderful. I think I made enough food. You won’t have enough to take home with you, though. Alright, everyone inside. My family is here.”

Agnella Bianchi looked like she was in her late sixties. She was a slender woman who was just over five feet. There was a youthfulness about her. A few wrinkles covered her skin, but deep creases rimmed her mouth and accentuated her eyes. She clearly spent a lifetime engaging both. Her still mostly black hair was secured in an infinity bun at her nape. The slacks she wore and the apron covering her knit sweater were heavily starched. She moved with the agility of a woman far younger than she looked.

There was no way for Ivy or Frank to refuse her invitation. So, they found themselves being ushered into Nonna’s home. It was warm and inviting. The smell of various dishes made her mouth water.

“Please grab an extra chair from the last bedroom in the back,” Nonna instructed her grandsons. “I have to grab two more place settings. You two, please have a seat,” she told Frank and Ivy.

Since Ivy was there, she might as well make herself useful. “Can I help?”

“Si. You can keep me company. Then we will put out some Antipasto. The boys are all so big and strapping. I might have to get some more vegetables.” Ivy tried to keep up as the older woman whipped around the room, all the while chattering a million miles a minute.

Soon, the five of them were around the table with a huge spread before them. Nonna encouraged them to eat up, all the while telling them she made something special for the secondo. If Ivy remembered correctly, if there was a secondo, that meant the primo came first. How much food did she think they could eat?

Emmanuel placed a slice of meat on Ivy’s plate and then his.

“Coppa was your mama’s favourite. She preferred it with nutmeg, but they hardly carry that kind at the deli. When we had company, I always ordered some extra, otherwise she would eat it all. Her father would tell me to leave her. Before they fell out, she was a papa’s girl and could do no wrong.” For the first time, the bright smile she wore slipped.

“They were so much alike. My husband and my Concetta. I miss them both,” she mused, popping an olive into her mouth.

“Please tell us about her,” Leonardo asked.

Ivy couldn’t tell who was most eager for her answer. The son who had been raised with Concetta or the one who never got to know her. Ivy certainly wanted to know how their mother had become the crushed woman she read about in the diaries.

“Concetta was the sweetest child. Reginaldo had wanted a boy so badly, but the moment he saw her, he fell under her spell. For hours, he would hold her and sing to her. He even argued with his sainted mamma when she dared to suggest that Reginaldo allow her to cry rather than pick her up. I never thought I would see the day he would put that woman in her place.”

Agnella sat at the head of the table with a grandson on her left and right, and she reached over and patted their hands. Both men hung on her every word.

“Sorry, we aren’t talking about my mother-in-law. Your mamma was so smart. Anything having to do with school, she picked up quickly. Not just the things they made girls study back then. She was so good with figures. The way that girl could add in her head. Oh, and how she loved science.”

They all sat enraptured as Agnella told them about the life of Concetta. The food before them was forgotten. “School came so naturally to her. It filled her head with dreams of a future beyond anything immigrants like us could imagine. She wanted to get an education. No one in our family had ever dreamed of being a scientist or a professor. My Concetta believed if she couldn’t find the cure for diseases, one day, she would inspire a student who would.” Ivy felt Concetta was a kindred spirit. Her thoughts were echoed when she caught Manny looking at her.

The pride Agnella felt about her daughter was apparent. Ivy was happy Manny was getting another image of his mother. Nonna was slightly more sombre as she spoke.

“She was certainly bright enough, but money stood in the way. The school she wanted to attend was expensive, even with the scholarship she had earned. It was the first time her father, and her disagreed. My husband, rest his soul, was a product of the old way. His daughter should marry well, be a good wife, then become a mother. Her dreams spat in the face of his traditions.”

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