Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop (21 page)

“I would love to go to Le Cordon Bleu. It's in Paris.”

“Paris? You would go all the way to France? Why not stay in Italy? Surely, there must be culinary schools in Rome or Milan.”

“Le Cordon Bleu is the best. But there's a good chance I might not be admitted. And even if I am admitted, I can only go if I receive a scholarship. I know it's a long shot, but I must try.”

“Of course. You must not abandon your dreams.”

Just as Rosalia could not abandon her own dream—of being reunited with her family someday. She thought about how Antonio had asked her what her dreams were, and she could barely answer his question. But she could not think more about what she wanted from life until she was with those she loved most.

“Don't worry. We will be friends forever.” Antonio tipped Rosalia's chin up with his index finger, forcing her to meet his gaze.

She was surprised by the action and by his words.

Seeing her surprise, Antonio said, “I can tell you're sad at the thought that I will have to leave the convent someday.”

Rosalia blushed. Silently, she cursed herself for always letting her emotions show so easily, especially when she was embarrassed.

“It's not that. It's just . . .”

She didn't quite know what to say. He was right. She did feel sad at the thought that he would leave some day, but she couldn't understand why she felt this way. True, they had become good friends, and she no longer was afraid of him. If anything, Antonio had shown her she could come to trust men again—although she didn't know if she could ever be alone, truly alone, with a man. She had always thought she would marry someday and have her own family. But that was before Marco had disrupted her life. Now the thought frightened her terribly.

“So you won't miss me? Here I thought we were the best of friends.” Antonio looked somber.

“Of course I'll miss you, and we are good friends.”

Antonio's face glowed, and in that moment, Rosalia knew he had only been pretending to look sad. He had wanted to hear her say she would miss him.

“We're here!” Francesco yelled out, saving Rosalia from another awkward moment with Antonio.

Francesco and Antonio helped Teresa and Rosalia out of the car. Teresa then linked her arm through Francesco's as he leaned over and kissed her. Rosalia quickly looked away and walked a few steps ahead of Antonio. Perhaps this was a bad idea coming here with them? If only Anunziata or the other women from the convent had joined them, Rosalia wouldn't feel weird about being with a couple and Antonio. She stole another glance in Francesco and Teresa's direction. They looked in love, and she couldn't help wondering what that must feel like.

“Hey! Wait up for me!” Antonio quickened his steps.

“I'm sorry. I'm just taking everything in.” She felt her face beginning to burn at the lie, but did her best to turn her head and take in the festivities that were already under way in Acireale, or Aci as Antonio had called it.

He glanced at his watch. “If we hurry, we might make the last show at the
Teatro dei Pupi,
before the Carnevale parade begins. Would you like to see the puppets? They're quite something.”

Suddenly, a memory flashed before Rosalia's eyes. She was maybe no more than eight years old, and her father had brought home a little Pinocchio puppet made of wood. She had kept that puppet, and it had hung on one of the knobs of her bedroom dresser. Papà and Luca would take turns making Pinocchio dance, which always made Rosalia laugh.

“
Si,
I would like that.”

“We're going to catch the last puppet show. Do you want to come?” Antonio called out to Francesco and Teresa.

“I hate puppets! They scare me!” Teresa laughed and tossed her golden hair back over her shoulder, glancing seductively at Francesco. In return, he gave her a strange look. He then laughed and pulled her toward him, giving her a quick kiss.

“We'll meet you by the cathedral in the Piazza del Duomo, say in an hour? Will that give you enough time to see the show?” Francesco asked.

“That should be plenty of time.
Ciao!
Don't get lost!” Antonio waved.

“
Ciao!
” Teresa waved back and winked in Rosalia's direction.

Rosalia waved, but avoided meeting Teresa's gaze. Why had Teresa winked at her? Rosalia was actually relieved they would be apart from them for a little while. Francesco and Teresa's overt gestures of love were making her feel very uncomfortable, especially in Antonio's presence.

“Let's go.” Antonio took Rosalia's hand, leading her toward the puppet theater.

She felt herself stiffen slightly, but then when she saw the large crowds everywhere, she relaxed. It would be easy to get separated from Antonio if she didn't hold his hand.

A few moments later, they were watching the puppet show play out. She watched knights, kings, queens, and court jesters interact with one another. The puppets were beautiful. Rosalia laughed with the audience at all the jokes in the show. At one moment, she saw in her peripheral vision that Antonio was staring at her, much the way Francesco had looked at Teresa earlier when she had tossed her hair over her shoulder. Rosalia swallowed hard and kept her attention on the puppets. Her stomach fluttered lightly.

After the show, they made their way to the Piazza del Duomo to meet up with Francesco and Teresa.

“Flowers for the beautiful woman,
signore?
” A woman holding a basket of assorted flowers stood before them.

“
Si.
” Antonio pulled a few
lire
from his pocket and handed them to the woman as she gave him a bouquet of daisies, marigolds, and carnations.

“For you.” He smiled as he gave the bouquet to Rosalia.

She had wanted to tell him not to buy the flowers for her, but for some reason she didn't. He had been nothing but kind and generous to her ever since she'd met him, and she knew if she refused the flowers, he would be disappointed. And the thought of making Antonio sad did not sit well with Rosalia.

“
Grazie,
Antonio.”

They were quiet for the rest of the walk toward the cathedral. Rosalia was feeling more and more troubled by these feelings she was having about Antonio. They were good friends. He looked out for her, almost like a brother. Yes, that must be why she felt the way she did about him. He reminded her of Luca. That was why she didn't want to disappoint him and why she knew she would miss him when he went to culinary school someday. It would be like losing her brother all over again. Antonio reached for her hand again, startling her for a moment. Her pulse raced, and once again her stomach fluttered, but the feeling was even stronger this time. Whom was she fooling? Antonio was nothing like her quiet brother Luca. And she'd never felt remotely like this when she was a child and had held Luca's hand.

Perhaps she needed to place some distance between herself and Antonio. But how could she do that when they worked together in the kitchen and pastry shop every day? And how would she explain her sudden aloofness toward him?

“Ah! There they are.” Antonio pointed toward Francesco and Teresa, who were sitting on a bench in front of a fountain. They held each other in a tight embrace and were kissing.

Rosalia stopped walking toward them.

“Maybe we should wait until they're . . .” For what felt like the hundredth time today, she blushed.

“If we wait for them to be done kissing, we'll miss the whole Carnevale parade!” Antonio laughed. “Come on! Don't be shy about interrupting them.”

Antonio walked ahead of Rosalia, letting go of her hand. She noticed how cool her palm felt without Antonio's pressed against hers.

“
Basta!
Enough! It's time for the parade.”

Antonio clapped his hands loudly in Francesco's and Teresa's faces. They stopped kissing and laughed upon seeing him.

“Where's Rosalia? Did you have a good time at the puppet show?” Teresa asked, looking behind Antonio for Rosalia.

“
Si,
it was fun. You should've come,” Rosalia said.

“Ah! We needed some time to ourselves. No offense.” Teresa gave Francesco a sultry look.

A loud drum began thumping, soon followed by trombones and trumpets as the parade began. The sky had now completely darkened, making it the perfect setting for the floats, which were bright with lights and beginning to come down in a procession. This was nothing like the small parade Rosalia's hometown of Terme Vigliatore had. The floats were enormous and very elaborate. She marveled at a float in the image of the Pope. People crossed themselves when the Pope float went by as if it were the Holy Father himself. Rosalia couldn't help but laugh.

“You shouldn't be laughing at
il Papa,
” Antonio whispered in her ear, before laughing himself.

Again, she felt her pulse race.

“
Maschere! Maschere!
”

“
Qui!
” Antonio shouted to the man selling Carnevale masks, raising his hand in the air.

“Please, Antonio, let me pay for these.” Rosalia reached into her satchel purse that she wore wrapped around her body, but Antonio placed his hand over hers.

“I insist.”

Before Rosalia could protest again, he had already paid the man.

“Now choose which mask you want.”

Rosalia shook her head at him, but she was smiling.

“You're too kind to me, Antonio.
Grazie mille.
”

She scanned the masks, and her eyes were immediately drawn to one in a deep shade of purple with shimmering royal-blue sequins and feathers in the same colors. Faux sapphires and amethysts dangled from its sides.

“May I have this mask, please?”

The man handed it to Rosalia. “You chose the perfect color to complement your beautiful dark hair,
signorina.
”

“
Grazie.
” She blushed slightly at his compliment.

“And I'll take this one.” Antonio pointed to a simple black mask.

Rosalia stared at her mask. It was so beautiful. It had been ages since she had owned something this pretty. She thought about her clothes and her possessions that she had left behind in her childhood home, but which were now gone. But their loss paled in comparison to the loss of her family.

“
Dai!
Let's see how our masks look on us,” Antonio said as he placed the elastic band of his mask over his head and fastened it in place.

Rosalia giggled.

“That bad?”

“No, it actually looks quite good on you. I just laughed because you look so different.”

And it was true. The mask made Antonio look mysterious, and even more handsome. With the mask on, his cheekbones were more pronounced and his lips looked fuller. She felt her cheeks warming up as she realized he had noticed she was staring at his lips. Antonio merely peered at her through his mask as a slow grin spread across his face.

Hoping to cover her blush, she held her mask to her face with the wand that was attached to it. Unlike Antonio's mask, hers did not have an elastic band, so she could lower it whenever she felt like it.

“
Bellissima!
” Antonio exclaimed.

She lowered her mask, but he raised her arm so she would cover her face again.

“Let's keep them on for the duration of the festivities. After all, how often can we wear masks and pretend to be someone else?”

“That's true!” Rosalia laughed.

“It seems that we've lost Francesco and Teresa.” Rosalia strained her neck to try to see above the crowds in front of them, but it was no use.

“Don't worry. We can always wait for them by Francesco's car when the parade is over.”

Rosalia nodded. “I have a small confession to make.”

“Oh no! Should I be afraid?” Antonio clutched his heart, eliciting a giggle from Rosalia.

“It's not about you. I'm a bit relieved to have some time away from Francesco and Teresa again. I kind of feel like we're not with them anyway. They're so caught up in themselves.”

“That's a polite way of putting it. But I guess that's how it is when you're in love and it's still new.”

Rosalia hesitated for a moment before asking, “Have you ever been in love?”

She held her breath. Rosalia couldn't believe she'd had the nerve to ask him such a personal question, but wearing the mask made it easier. She felt protected behind it.

“I had boyhood crushes, but no, I don't think I was ever truly in love. I have escorted girls to dances and on walks, but things never progressed more. My mamma always told me never to rush love. She told me that young people are often in a rush for everything to happen: fall in love, get married, drive a car, whatever it is that most young people can't wait to do. She said love should be thought of as a piece of fruit that is waiting to ripen. Take your time with it, and when it is right, you will delight in its full essence.”

“That's beautiful and sounds very wise. Your mother was a smart woman.”

“She was. I miss her so much.” Antonio's voice cracked.

Rosalia placed her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze. This was the first time she had heard Antonio express how much he missed his late mother. And in this moment, she felt she could relate to him only too well.

“I can't imagine how hard it was for you to lose your mother so young. I know how I am feeling about being separated from my family, but I can't imagine how I would feel if I knew there was no way I could see them again. At least I know they are alive, and someday I will see them again.”