CHAPTER 3
Arianna
“You did it, Lee!” I said, clapping my hands together.
Lee gasped, his eyes widening in shock. He was eight-years-old, and long division had been giving him trouble ever since I’d introduced it to the class. But being the hard-worker that he was, he stayed after school whenever he could to get extra tutoring, determined to catch up to the rest of his classmates. Finally, his hard work had paid off.
“I actually got it right?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“You most certainly did,” I said, smiling and ruffling his hair.
Abruptly, he jumped into the air and did a victory dance that I almost wanted to join in on. I didn’t mind staying after school to help him, but it was also nice to leave the school a little earlier. “So, looks like we can get out of here early today,” I said.
Lee happily nodded his head and began packing his backpack. “See you next week, Ms. Marino!”
“See you, Lee,” I said, watching him exit the classroom. I then set to work cleaning the blackboards and packing my own bags, more than ready to start my weekend even though I had no plans. Relaxing at home was good enough for me though.
“Have a good weekend, Ms. Marino,” said one of my former students as I exited the school.
“Thanks, you too!” I said, waving goodbye as I headed to my car.
Setting my briefcase in the backseat, I climbed behind the driver’s wheel, thinking that before I got too settled into relaxing for the weekend, I needed to make sure I had the following week’s lesson plan ready.
In the couple of years that I’d been working as a teacher, I’d easily gathered that it was a tiring career, but a rewarding one, especially when working with children as young as second-graders. Even on the toughest days, which were prone to be full of tears and temper-tantrums, I wouldn’t change my career for anything in the world. I’ve always loved children and always knew that I wanted to make a career that would allow me to work with them. So, when I’d landed my first full-time teaching position about two years ago, it had been a dream come true, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it since.
Most of all, I was at least thankful to not have to be in the family business. Yet, being the only daughter, it was pretty much obvious right from the start that I wouldn’t be forced into the family line of work.
It wasn’t a secret; I knew my father and brothers worked for the mafia and that our family’s riches were essentially ‘dirty money.’ Nevertheless, they kept my mother and me out of it, which is the most I could ask for. I happily permitted them to keep the wool over my eyes and let me live the life that I wanted to live, for the most part.
There was one part of my life that I knew wasn’t entirely up to me, but that had always seemed too far away to worry about, until recently. With my 26th birthday having passed already, I knew the time was drawing near.
The drive home wasn’t a long one, and I’d been in a good mood until I stepped through the front door of my house. I knew something was wrong when my mother nearly jumped a mile into the air when I walked into the kitchen, where she was at the stove preparing dinner.
It was nice to come home to home-cooked meals, although I was quickly getting to the age where I wished to be on my own by now. I often dreamed of possibly having my own cute apartment to decorate, but I knew that was nowhere in my near future. Given my family’s line of work, my parents insisted that I stayed at home until I was married and had a husband to look out for and protect me.
“No proper young lady like yourself has any business living alone,” my father had said shortly after I’d started teaching. Just wanting to run the idea by him, I had asked how he would feel about me saving up some money to get my own place. But just as I had anticipated, the idea was almost instantly shot down. Needless to say, my parents harbored old-fashioned ideas. There was just no use fighting them over it, for their minds couldn’t be swayed.
Just like there was no point telling them that they were hypocrites.
My brothers all entertained women in their own places on a regular basis—women whose families apparently had no qualms about letting them grow up and be on their own.
But that was just how double-standards worked in my family.
“Goodness, you scared me, Ari,” my mother said, clutching her chest. My mother was a beautiful woman, who had likely been a knockout in her younger days. People often told me I was the spitting image of her when she was in college, but I’ve always thought she was prettier than me. There was a strong resemblance between us nonetheless though, considering we had the same face shape and hazel eyes. While my hair was dark brown like my father though, hers was a lighter shade.
“Sorry, Mama,” I said, eyeing her suspiciously.
She turned off a pot of something boiling on the stove that smelled delicious and gave me a rather forced smile. “How was work today, honey?”
I nodded. “It was pretty good. One of the students I tutor on a regular basis made a lot of progress. I’m so proud of him.”
Mama smiled. “Be proud of yourself, sweetie. You’re just an excellent teacher. I see all the hard work you put in for those kids. You’re going to make an excellent mother yourself someday.”
I smiled and shifted my gaze to the floor. “Thanks.” Everyone knew I wanted lots of babies of my own one day, but that just happened to be an area of my life that I didn’t quite have much control over. There were to be no children before marriage for me, and my marriage was out of my hands. Unlike most of my friends, I’d never dated, for I knew it was pointless given the family I belonged to.
“I actually want to talk to you about something,” Mama said, her expression growing serious. My heart skipped a few beats, terrified that it was something serious.
“Is everything okay? Is it Daddy?” My mind ran wild, conjuring images of the worst kind. With a family so deeply involved in the mafia, bad news could happen at any second. There was just too much money floating about, enemies waiting to strike, and cops readily on the lookout for corrupt business dealings.
Mama shook her head and reached out for my arm. “No, no, sweetie,” she said. “Your father is fine. And so are your brothers, for that matter. This isn’t about them. It’s about you.”
My eyes widened, wondering what could possibly involve me.
I thought about the school. Had they called my home? Had someone discovered my family’s connection to the mafia and no longer believed it safe for me to be around children on a regular basis?
I swallowed, although my mouth had gone completely dry.
Still holding my arm, my mother led me to the dining room table and pulled out a chair for me. She then pulled out a chair and sat beside me.
I watched her face carefully, seeing the tensed way she held her mouth and the small wrinkle at her brow—the only indicator of her age. Her shoulders rose and fell in response to a deep breath she took.
Then quite suddenly and unexpectedly, she gave a big smile. “Arianna, you’re a young woman now,” she prefaced. I blinked. Could she and Daddy have possibly changed their outdated views and now saw it all right for me to get a place of my own?
I listened with bated breath as she continued. “These are some exciting times that lie ahead for you. Your father and I have decided that it is finally time…It’s time for you to be married soon.”
My ears rang with her words.
So that’s what this was all about.
I swallowed again, nervous, but also feeling somewhat excited. My life danced before my eyes. I envisioned wearing a beautiful wedding gown and walking down the aisle to a handsome groom waiting for me. Thrilled nervousness went through my belly as I thought about the honeymoon and all that it would entail…
I tried to imagine what I would look like, pregnant. What it would feel like. How it was going to be, holding my child…
Living in my own home, with my own family.
Just like I knew my family was involved in the mafia, I’d always known that I would someday have an arranged marriage. That was just the way my family worked. In modern society, so many thought of arranged marriages as a bad thing—as something old, outdated, and out-of-favor. As something wrong. Sordid. Unfair.
But I honestly didn’t share those views at all. While I certainly thought my parents were a bit old fashined in their overall views of gender-relations, the idea of an arranged marriage had never bothered me much. I supposed it was because my own parents had been the product of an arranged marriage, and they were far happier than most couples I knew. Their marriage had survived throughout decades and was still thriving. I saw the love that the two of them shared for one another, and I knew that it was real. I could only hope to someday have the kind of marriage they enjoyed.
And it looked like that day was on the horizon.
“I know it may be a bit nerve-wracking, but your father and I were very careful to find someone we felt would be a suitable partner for you. You know we only want the best for you.”
I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“Are you scared?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said, genuinely meaning it. I wasn’t scared about the arranged marriage itself. I just simply hoped that the man of my parents’ choosing would be someone I could see myself being happy with for the rest of my life. It wasn’t like they could really know my ‘type.’ Heck, I didn’t even know my type, and my lack of dating experience with men didn’t help matters any.
“Good,” my mom said. She leaned over and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Because I don’t want you to be nervous. I want you to be happy, just like I am with your father.”
I smiled and clasped my mother’s hands. “And that’s all I want too, Mama. I want a marriage just as perfect as you and Daddy’s.”
She beamed at me, her smile so bright and wide that it instantly made her look years younger. At that moment, she could have been my sister rather than my mother. “You’ll be meeting him tomorrow. I can’t tell you how excited I am for you!”
Although I wasn’t nervous, I was slightly taken aback by the fact that the meeting would be happening so soon. I smiled, although I inwardly wondered how long ago my mother and my father had picked my future husband without telling me about it. How long had it taken them to find him? Did any of my brothers already know about him?
However, I knew it ultimately didn’t matter. What was done was done, and I would be meeting my future husband within a day.
I suddenly no longer felt like spending a relaxing evening at home.
Tonight, there was a need to celebrate my last day as a single woman. If there was ever a time to meet up with friends to go out for a night on the town, it was now.