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- 03/09/2021
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Home - 35. Chapter 35
Two years have passed. In their final year at the University, Brad and Tom are working on their Masters’s degree in Education. They have been tossing around the idea of continuing and earning their Doctorate in Education. They have also been talking with several high schools in our State. Tom thought he had an excellent possibility of getting a job at a high school in the next county. He was upbeat about this as it meant he could stay in the apartment. Brad hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted to continue at the University working toward his Doctorate.
Amo was in his second year at the University and doing quite well. After many discussions with Brad and Tom, he decided to work toward a degree in Agronomy. He wanted a greenhouse, so Brad and Tom built him one. If you were looking for Amo, you could always find him in his greenhouse.
Amalia decided to take a few education courses at the University. She was going to teach Italian at a local high school. One other event happened, Amalia became pregnant, and Mom was over the moon. The house had a new glow to it, smiles everywhere. And you hear ‘let me do that’ every time Amalia went to do something.
My feelings for Amalia grew each day. When I first saw her, it was love at first sight. I think that was because she reminded me so much of Nonna when she was young. As I spent that summer with her, I discovered a charming young lady who shares my educational interests. Each day I spent with her that summer revealed a woman who had a deep interest In education. When she lived in Italy, she taught mathematics at the secondary level. I asked her if she wanted to teach mathematics in one of our high schools. She wasn’t sure, and teaching Italian would let her determine if there is a need for a mathematic teacher. There was some concern about obtaining a teaching certificate. She had her papers from when she taught in Italy but wasn’t sure if they would accept them in the States.
The local high school permitted her to teach Italian as an elective the last hour of the school day. There was one other condition. She wouldn’t be paid until she had her teaching certificate.
For Amalia, money wasn’t the problem. Teaching was what she knew and liked. So she agreed while I spent my time helping her to obtain a teaching certificate. She needed two courses that she could get at my University. She enrolled, with a little help from me, and during the first year of our marriage, we had lunch together at the University’s cafeteria. I tried to get her to enroll in the University full-time, I enjoyed having lunch with her.
It was May when Amalia told me she was pregnant. “Tony, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to be treated as an invalid. I can still take care of the house and teach.”
I didn’t like that. I didn’t want anything to happen to Amalia or the baby. As it turned out, I didn’t have to tell anyone. It was Mom who looked at her on Sunday when they came over for dinner. “Amalia are you pregnant?”
Everyone stopped eating, “Mom, what did you say?”
“Are you pregnant because I think you are.”
Amalia looked at me, “I didn’t say anything. I’m, glad that it is out and we can help. As much as you want to continue taking care of the household, I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby.”
Then the questions started, when are you due, do you want a boy or girl. The guys pitched in, and I think deep down Amalia was glad she didn’t have to do a lot of the housework. “Amalia, you better tell your folks. If you don’t, Mom will.”
Amilia told her mom, and her mom and dad flew over. The net effect was her mom stayed, and her dad went back to Italy. At first, she stayed with Mom, but when Amalia began to show a bump, she moved into the house. Now Amalia nearly did nothing. What her mom didn’t do, the boys did. Amalia may not have been born to royalty, but she must have felt it.
As time passed, in November, Amalia presented me with a son. I named him Victorio after Pa. Amalia was okay with the name, but the middle name was her father’s name, Piero. I smiled as I thought another Pa would occupy this house.
We had the baptism at the church where we were married. Piero came over one week before the baptism with the priest who married us. The other members of her family sent gifts. Amo stood for the child. He was smiling, and I think Victorio smiled at him as well. It seemed where ever Amo went that day. He had a special package that he carried. I don’t know who was more proud, Amo or me.
For the second time, we used the Italian club for the celebration.
I falsely believed that everything would return to normal at home. It didn’t happen. When Brad or Tom wasn’t working the farm or studying, they had Little Vic with them. When I commented on it, their reply was, ‘we are his uncles.' And they acted like this young child was the most important little guy in their life. Amo was the same way. If Amo didn’t have him, then Brad or Tom had him.
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5
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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