Free The Queen of the Big Time by Adriana Trigiani Page B

see.” I shrug.
    “No, you’re very agreeable. That goes a long way with a man.”
    I doubt very much there will be any man who means as much to me as my books, but Alessandro is not going to understand that. Besides, the man I love is too old for me and he’ll have a wife before I’m old enough to be one, so what’s the use of that? “The Castellucas aren’t known for being agreeable,” I joke.
    “Your family is very loud. It took me time to understand that.” Alessandro smiles. “I come from such gentle people.”
    “So all this is a big shock to you, isn’t it?”
    “When you love someone, you overlook a lot of things.” He says quietly.
    “Alessandro?” Assunta appears on the porch. Her tone has the old sharp edge to it.
    Alessandro looks up and rests his hoe, wiping his forehead with a red bandanna. “Yes?”
    “When you’re done there, can you come and move some furniture? Now that the curtains are up, I see a new way to arrange the chairs so they get the afternoon light. Perfect for reading.” Assunta smiles and goes back into the kitchen.
    “This is a small house, and yet there is always something to do,” Alessandro says with a sigh.
    He goes back to his work as I unclip the pillowcases from the line. Assunta has both of us working from sunup to nightfall. Alessandro will soon realize that there is no pleasing his queen, but I am not going to be the person to point this out to him. He looks at me and shakes his head. Perhaps he already knows.
    Papa’s contract with the Hellertown stores has been a blessing. He is converting the barn to accommodate a small engine that provides power to the automatic milk tubes so we don’t have to do the milking ourselves. Still, Papa has to hook up and run the machines, and he believes it’s as much work as the old-fashioned way. But that’s Papa, he always thinks the old ways are better, that homemade is always tastier than store-bought, and that anyone who gets in a fancy car and drives fast will miss the views you get when you hitch a wagon to a horse and take your time. Papa likes a slow pace. But he’s also ambitious. He knows if he buys a few more cows, he can increase his output for the stores, so without Mama’s consent, he has gone back into the quarry to make some extra money. Papa wants two Holstein cows he saw at the market in Allentown.
    I put the fresh peach pie Assunta made in the pantry for supper. She ran out of things for me to do, so she let me go home early. Ididn’t mind the walk back to the farm; it gives me time to think. I never tire of being alone, and I’ve learned to savor the long walk from the farm to town and back again. Papa lets me walk by myself as long as it is still day outside. I rarely see anyone coming or going, so I don’t know why he worries.
    The house is quiet so I grab the last empty tin bucket on the shelf and head out to the field behind our barn. This is perfect weather for berry picking, and when I found the house empty, I knew exactly where Mama and the girls would be.
    There was a lot of rain this spring so the ground is loaded with strawberries. There are no trees, and the hot sun on the open field makes for lots of juicy, sweet berries. Mama dug some rows among the bushes, but only so we’d have a place to kneel when we pick them. Mama let the plants grow wild in low, tangled thickets, and everywhere there are clusters of strawberries so red, they’re practically magenta, and some are as big as eggs.
    Roma takes a bite of one. “Don’t eat too many. You’ll get sick,” I warn her.
    “Mama, can we make Papa a strawberry shortcake?” Roma ignores me.
    “I don’t see why not. Providing there are some left after you’re done eating.” Mama deposits all the berries from her apron into the bucket.
    “Mama, tell us the story of you and Papa,” I urge her. The sun is hot and there are many berries to pick and we need a good story to pass the time.
    “Oh, that old story?” Mama complains, but I