Adriana Trigiani - Brava, Valentine

“It’s what Gram wants.” Alfred turns to face me. “It’s her decision.”

My mind reels. I don’t want this, but it seems if I don’t agree to it, Gram will be forced to devise another strategy-and it won’t be in my favor. On the other hand, Alfred has a full-time job-so really, how much would he be around? Not much. I take a deep breath. “Okay, Gram, if this is what you want…”

“It’s what’s best,” Gram says.

“But there have to be conditions to this deal.”

“Oh, now you have terms .” Alfred folds his arms across his chest.

“I work there, I’ve been working there for over five years, and I intend to stay.”

“Fair enough,” Alfred concedes.

“I run the shop. On the custom side, I buy the materials, make the deals with the vendors, and maintain the stock. I meet with the customer, design the shoe to her liking, and then put it through the construction process on a schedule. I oversee the pattern cutting, and I build the shoe. I’ve developed the secondary line, and I don’t intend to share the copyright of the Bella Rosa with anyone. Anything that I design belongs to me. At the moment, I also keep the books, pay the bills, and juggle the loans. If you want to take over the books, handle the loans, and structure the debt and the taxes, great. The time I save with you doing all of that will free me up to do more design work. I’m not interested in being your boss, and I won’t have you be mine.”

“Fair enough,” he says quietly.

“And…I’m not going to agree to any of this unless you agree that you will not be directly involved in the creative side-”

“Fine.” Alfred cuts me off, not because he doesn’t want to argue, but the truth is, he could not care less about the shoes. He could as easily be CFO of a company that makes bricks-Angelini shoes are just a product to him, numbers on a ledger. Legacy is a cross to my brother, not a crown.

“I don’t want you underfoot,” I tell him.

“Then we have a problem,” he says.

“Alfred will be a full partner in every way,” Gram says. “He’s going to devote himself to modernizing the company, on a day-to-day basis.”

“How? He already has a job.”

“I’m no longer at the bank,” Alfred says quietly.

“What?” Maybe this is what Pamela and Alfred were fighting about-exactly what Jaclyn heard through the walls at the inn. “You quit the bank?”

“I was let go,” he admits.

“But you’ve been there eighteen years!” In an instant, I’m defensive for my brother. He is, after all, a brilliant businessman and the biggest success story in our family. The fact that he didn’t respect my work never meant that I didn’t respect his. I’m angry for him. “Those banks!”

“I saw it coming,” Alfred says. “But that doesn’t make it any easier. Believe me, I wouldn’t take this job if I didn’t have to.”

“Gram, it’s not right that you went behind my back and made a deal with Alfred without consulting me.”

“We needed a plan, Valentine. I didn’t want to dump the whole company on you and leave you to struggle in this economy without a plan.”

“Fair enough. But Alfred?”

“Valentine,” Gram warns. “We’re lucky we have someone in the family with Alfred’s knowledge and level of experience.”

“Of all people! He hates my guts.”

“I don’t hate you at all,” my brother says impatiently. “I don’t approve of the way you do things, and I question your choices-”

“Who are you to question my choices? I know how you feel-you think I’m a screw-up, in life and work. How would you like to feel judged all the time?”

“You have good qualities,” he says quietly.

“There’s a ringing endorsement.”

“Look, Gram is right. You need help. Someone to take the reins.”

“You’re not taking the reins, Alfred. We’re sharing them. Right, Gram?”

I remember the ride to the church this morning, and how when the horse went off course, and the wheels slid on the wet pavement, the driver held both reins and guided the carriage back to safety. It would never work to have two drivers, each holding one of the reins, each with a different idea about how to direct the carriage back on course. It takes one driver to steer a carriage-and a singular vision to run a company.

I have no idea how a partnership with my brother could possibly work. I can’t picture myself side by side with Alfred, making important decisions or haggling about inventory. But this is the deal Gram has made, and it’s her company, and her building. She could have given them both to me outright, but she didn’t. I have to accept her terms. I have no choice. And she knows it.

“When you return home, I’ve set up a meeting with Ray at the shop. He’ll go over the details, but I’ve already signed off on my end. I’m no longer sole proprietor of the Angelini Shoe Company. I will maintain an emeritus position on the board of directors, which now includes each of you. When the time comes for me to sell the business outright, that will be a decision that we will make together. In the meantime, can I trust you two to take care of our family business?”

Alfred says yes aloud, and I nod in agreement. I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll cry, and I can’t give Alfred that satisfaction.

“Your grandfather would be so happy, and so proud that his grandchildren joined forces to run his company.” Gram’s voice breaks. Grandpop has loomed over this day like a heavy storm cloud threatening rain. In the glow of her present happiness with Dominic, Gram has been thinking about her first husband. She and Grandpop’s long and difficult marriage has fallen into shadow, but not so far into the dark as to not be seen. Gram spent more than fifty years of her life with my grandfather, and even in death, his wishes matter to her.

“You took good care of the family brand,” I reassure her.

“You can do better,” she assures me. “And with Alfred, you will.”

The things I will remember about Gram’s wedding won’t be poignant (the recitation of the vows) or sad (Aunt Feen hitting the floor), they won’t be joyous, or romantic, they will be practical . With one hand she signed her wedding license, and with the other she cut the Angelini Shoe Company in half, like a sheet of leather.

As we climb the steps of the inn, the night sky changes from midnight blue to steel gray. A small sliver of a powder blue moon pushes through the dark clouds. The moon doesn’t throw much light, but it doesn’t have to. I can see everything plainly: the road is dark, it’s winding, and I have no idea where it leads.

I TURN THE KEY IN the door of my room at the Spolti Inn, careful not to make a sound. I don’t want to trigger any late-night powwows with my sisters. I’ve seen enough of the Angelinis, Roncallis, Fazzanis, McAdoos, and Vechiarellis for a lifetime, not to mention Gepetto, the wedding guest who, in our darkest hour, became one of us as he witnessed Aunt Feen’s swan dive into public drunkenness. The way this evening has gone, I should have joined her. Better to be drunk to take the blow of Gram’s decision than stone-cold sober.

I don’t know what Gram was thinking, sticking me with Alfred as my partner, but she hasn’t done me any favors since she fell in love with Dominic. It’s almost as if True Love has rotted her brain. And here I am-her defender and champion-left with partial when I deserved the whole. She split the Angelini Shoe Company in two, like a pair of shoes, handing one to my brother and the other to me, rendering one completely useless without the other.

I drop my shawl and my purse on the bed. Then I kick off my shoes.