Amber-eyed Beauty and Blue-eyed Beast Part 1

Signor Roma, or Nonno Roma as he was addressed by his two grandchildren, was a man of some years, but by some peculiar means, retained much of his brawny youth and comeliness. In his youth, he had acquired power, yet to his chagrin in later years, he had sown many wild oats and was reaping them for a time.
Tall, fit, affable as ever, with dark hair in jutting wisps , a devilishly appealing stubble, and a grin that render a lady in a swoon, he was charming, but more overall, he was sincere in his actions and thoughts.

Perhaps excessively sincere, almost zealous, so reasoned his grandson, a hot-tempered and hot-headed youth by the name of Romano.  

Romano bore an uncanny resemblance to his grandfather, though similarities ceased there. He possessed a temper that even an ornery bull would be impressed, he was ever the cynic, had a very unsuitable inclination to heckle, and much to grandfather's and sister 's embarrassment, a irrevocably foul mouth. Yet his intentions were well, and it pleased
Nonno Roma that Romano held his younger sister, Felicia, in such high regard and was exceedingly protective of her. Many an ill intended suitor was sent flying and scraping against the cobbles of the street outside their door by Romano's shrewd intuition (and fists) for the welfare of Felicia.

The youngest grandchild of Nonno Roma was little Felicia, though now, she was not so little. Felicia was a teenaged woman of only 18, and she possessed so sweet a temper, she was terribly naïve. If you told her the world was truly flat, she would be thrown in such a paroxysm of distress, she would hide in the closet. Yet for her lack of shrewdness, she possessed a most caring nature, she even nursed stray cats and dogs to health and often kept them.  Her delight, aside from being an invaluable succor to her grandfather with his trade, was doing kind acts, for she esp. delighted in tutoring and caring for the children in the Poor Ones' School. Much to the nuns' relief, Felicia was punctual with her work, and the students she was charged with to tutor fared very well, and many of the children, orphans of the parish, regarded the young woman affectionately as "Zia Felicia".

Many would considered her plain-though never declared in front of Nonno Roma, or worse, Romano- but she was comely as her nature deemed it so, and her scarlet hair was neatly braided in two, like a bucolic peasant. But what struck anyone who encountered this girl, was her eyes.  They were the size of two plump walnuts, and looked like a shimmering orb of clear crystalline amber, a rich smoky brown and earthen tint. Her eyes revealed all there was to see of her nature, and it was said by the people in her part of the city, that her eyes could even move the stoniest heart. She was dubbed-though she was too naïve to perceive it-the "Amber-eyed Beauty", or "Ambra occhio bellezza".

Fashion! One could say the Italians were kings of fashion, though the French would beg to differ. Nonno Roma, though a warring man in his earlier years, was quite keen to fashion, and even the petulant Romano and giddy Felicia were likewise endowed with a very chic sense of it. Thus was Nonno Roma's trade, and business was very steady, they lived in the city of Milan, and the small but elaborate shop was constantly a bustle with customers clamoring for the latest styles of dress, suits, shoes and what not. With an eye for seam and cut, pins in mouth, chalk in waistcoat pocket and had, Nonno Roma was busied each day-aside from Sunday for Mass, he was a faithful one-fashioning jackets, shirt, waistcoats, pants, and countless dresses. Being more suited for leather work, Romano was gifted with rendering shoes and purses, and to his credit, as Nonno Roma would say, and Romano created such exquisite yet sturdy shoes and purses. They had yet to have one customer complain of the quality.
Perhaps it was because she was something of an excellent artist, Felicia could take bolts of silk, taffeta, cotton, gauze, gossamer, even the truculent velvet and someway sew, pin, ruffle and seam tastefully alluring dresses, from the formal ball gown, to the debutante's crowning glory, to even the simples summer dress to wear at picnics. She also had a good eye for men's clothing, so Nonno Roma would enlist the advice of his little granddaughter to add the right touches to whatever he was pinning together. "Women know what looks fine on a man! Just like a man does for the ladies!" Nonno Roma would chuckle when he approved of the alternations Felicia would add to his work.

It was said that Felicia inherited her knack for art from her father. Despite her misshapen backgrounds, anyone who had the good fortune to see her paintings-she was painfully reclusive to allow anyone but Nonno and Romano see her work- said she could paint the soul of the sitter or people through their eyes, it almost seemed animated, and what better yet, she could depict the goodness out of anyone, even the most miserly.

"Why do you not sell some of your paintings to the new galleries? Mark my word, nipote, people would acclaim you as much as those French ladies, and you paint with much soul than they do!" exclaimed Nonno with an impressed grin and flash of eyes beaming one afternoon as the man caught his granddaughter snatching time from lunch to complete her new piece.
Felicia jumped an inch from her stool and turned around with a scolding smile. "Nonno! You know well I can't sell them. I mean, they're not as professional as those with the schooling. I paint to express, that's all."
She wiped her right hand smudged with some green paint on her smock, and dipped and shook the brush she was finished. "Nonno?" she asked, glancing sideways as she untied her smock.
Nonno was rubbing his brow as he sipped slowly at his coffee and gazed blankly out the veranda."Hhmm?"
"Do-do you think someday I could be a great painter? Like Papa was?" Felicia looked up at her grandfather with uncertainty. It had been one of those wishful dreams of hers to become a master, like all the old ones in the past. But Felicia had never been inside an artist's studio or school to learn the skill. Despite the business being so well, there never seemed to be enough wealth to pursue the things Nonno wanted for Felicia and Romano. This was due to Nonno Roma's debts he racked during his wild days of youth. He was guilt ridden and shamed he could not provide better for his grandchildren, his only family left.
Nonno Roma dashed off the gloom for Felicia's sake. "Of course! Nipote, when things get better, I vow I send you to the best art school! The one in Paris even! You'll see, you get there and learn the tricks and techniques, you'll have all those Parisians jealous as a donna spurned over your art!"
Felicia giggled, blushing and throwing her hand over mouth to still her laughter "Nonno! Don't' be silly! I don't think I'll be another Monet or Renoir! But I hope I can paint the world as it is, or how I see it. That is what art is for, after all." Felicia grew thoughtful as she wrapped her arms around her chuckling grandfather.

"D---it! These needles are so dull with the d---ed leather, but they can skewer my hand!" Romano's cursing reverberated down the hall in the shop. Clearly, he pricked his hand on the needle with the leather work again.
Shaking his head in mildness, Nonno smiled and sighed, chugging the last gulp of coffee and taking the chalk from his pocket. "Romano! You know about using that mouth of yours in front of the customers and your little sister!" scolded the man as he hunched over a cloth wire model, sewing a small pocket for a fobwactch.
"Si, mi dispace , Nonno!" mumbled an apologetic Romano who biting on his pricked thumb and shooing Felicia away from looking at it.

"You're such a child, fratello!" fussed Felicia to her disagreeable brother as she scurried away to tend to a customer who had wandered in the shop.
Supper was a pleasant ordeal, the family had a table set out on the patio of the house that adjoined the shop, and in the summer, the scent of bread, flowers, and the water from the river was a lulling aroma to savor the tasty meal.

"Ah! Now, don't tell me Lucia at the bakery outdid herself again!" exclaimed Nonno Roma, booming with an elated chortle as Romano and Felicia laid the table with platters and a pot of chick pea soup, some Arancini With Gorgonzola and last, but not least, a steaming platter of Pasta Pescatore with such succulent scallops and clams, Romano nabbed one when Felicia was not looking, and Nonno Roma followed suit sneakily.

"Hey! Nonno! We made these ourselves! We know a thing or two about cooking, you know!" laughed Romano, scooping some chick pea soup into some bowls and passed them between Felicia and Nonno Roma.
"Ah. Si, you two cook like your Nonna! Que un uoma! She cooked the best, should've been the chef of a restaurant! Well, looks like her progeny are doing well by her!" Nonno Roma pondered, hungrily stabbing his fork into the arancini when Felicia passed the plate laden with rich cheese dish.
Felicia sighed, for it had sorrowed her grandfather a great deal even thinking of Nonna being passed away. It sorrowed her and Romano as well; it seemed the family was being taken away one by one. First Papa in the war, then mama with the lung illness, then Nonna with her stroke.

But Felicia gave thanks to the Lord she had Romano and Nonno, not many could say that, and she counted herself blessed.
One of the dogs Felicia took in, ambled in, seeking what culinary conquest he could nab from his new mistress. Romano scrunched his face in disdain at the sniffing whimpering dog. "Eh! Shoo! Felicia! Get this dumb mutt out! He'll steal the supper right under our noses!" Romano moaned, waving the dog, a rib thin Dalmatian, from the platter of pasta pescatore.
"Fratello! Leave poor Amando alone! He's just hungry! I got some bread and cheese for him here!" She ducked under the table cloth and produced a tasty bowl of cheese bits and bread for the slobbering Amando, she set it down, and he gratefully gobbled every last bit.
Old man Roma winced his eyes in laughter watching his granddaughter spoil the stray dog. "I swear! You baby these dogs and cats so much; they must think you're their mother!"

Scooping spoonfuls of the chick pea soup while scratching Amando –who panting in contentment- behind the ears, Felicia grinned and declared she was a mother of sorts, even if it was just to strays.

Uncorking a bottle of a nice red wine, Nonno Roma gracefully poured into each glass the wine for dinner, he then sniffed the opening and sighed satisfied with the vintage aroma the well-aged wine seemed to trickle out. "Well, now that we've had the supper, how about some dessert to complement the wine, Ragazzi? "
Beaming simpers lit on both the two young people's faces. "You shouldn't have, Nonno!" chided Felicia, but she clapped her hands in sheer delight as her grandfather ducked back into the kitchen and brought back a fanciful cardboard box piled to the top with macaroon, all dusted with confectioner's sugar and fine coconut shreds.  Romano, whose actions spoke more than his words, eagerly devoured his share swiftly relishing the rare treat as though he were a boy of six!

A harsh, scraping cough racked Nonno's body, and a fit of wheezing overtook him. Hunching over and clutching at the table's edge of where he was seated, Roma struggled to gain his breath.
Both Felicia and Romano scrambled to his side, each taking a hold of him on his arm, and they led to the sofa in the parlor. "What's wrong? Didn't you see the doctor like your promised? These things are serious, Nonno!" Romano demanded furiously. His sense of protection was strong for his grandfather as he was his sister.

Restraining some tears, Felicia maintained her composure, kneeling at his knees, patting one knee. "Nonno, are-are you sure you will be all right? We can take you to see Dr Toscani and he ca-"she was cut off by Roma's wheezing protest.
"Non-n-nonsense! I'm fine! Besides-"he paused to catch more of his breath-"he's just one of these green radicals who gives weird tonics." But Roma saw the pouting of Romano and the stilled tears of concern in Felicia, he then relented."Eh! Bene! I'll go tomorrow! Sleep's really all a vecchio like me needs!"