Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop (22 page)

Antonio pulled Rosalia toward him and, before she knew what he was doing, he placed a kiss on her lips. Her eyes widened, but he didn't notice. She could see his own eyes were closed behind his mask. Part of her wanted to run, but another part of her felt entranced by the feel of his soft, warm lips pressed against hers. Before she could decide what to do, Antonio kissed her again, and again. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands up against his chest. The bouquet of flowers she'd been holding all night fell to the ground. Finally, Antonio broke the kiss, bending down to pick up her bouquet.

Rosalia had lowered her mask for a moment when Antonio bent down to pick up the flowers. But when he stood back up, and their eyes met, she quickly raised the mask to her features and turned her back toward him. Her mouth was very dry, and her heart felt like it would burst through her chest. Silently, she chided herself.
Why did you let him keep kissing you? Why did you kiss him back?

“Let's go sit down on one of the benches. Are you thirsty? I can get us some water.”

Rosalia nodded. She dared not speak for she was afraid how nervous her voice would sound.

Antonio took Rosalia by the hand and led her through the crowds to a bench that was far from the parade.

“I'll be right back.”

She was grateful for the time alone. Lowering her mask, she pressed her fingers to her lips. They felt a bit swollen. She'd been kissed. Not that this was the first time a man had kissed her. The day Marco had kissed Rosalia in her father's tailor shop was the first time a man had kissed her. He had robbed her of what she had always envisioned that special moment would be like, just as he had robbed her of her maidenhood. She had always thought she would share that moment on her wedding night with the man she would marry someday—the man she loved. Unlike Marco's rough, bruising kisses, Antonio's had been so gentle and light. Even when he'd deepened the kiss, she could tell he had been exercising control. He was kind in everything he did toward her.

He returned with two paper cups.

“All I could find was an old lady selling
limonata
. I hope that's all right. I didn't want to go searching for water and make you wait here alone a long time.”

Again, she couldn't help marveling at how thoughtful he was.

“I love lemonade, so that's perfect.” She smiled, and then she realized she was no longer holding her mask up to her face. Neither was Antonio. Though her pulse raced as she thought about their kiss, she was no longer blushing.

They sipped their lemonades and didn't talk for a few minutes. Rosalia finally broke the silence.

“You were right. Aci is beautiful. The cathedral and all the churches look stunning all lit up at night. And their Carnevale celebration is absolutely breathtaking. I'm having a wondeful time.
Grazie,
Antonio.”

Antonio smiled. “It makes me happy to hear that you've enjoyed yourself. I felt bad when we went to Messina that it wasn't as pleasurable an outing as I had hoped it would be.”

“Don't feel bad, Antonio. I am to blame since I wanted to inquire about my family at the shops. I should be apologizing to you that I ruined the day.”

“Don't be silly! It made me feel good to try to help you find your family. I see how sad you are without them, and it pains me to see you this way.”

They were silent once more. Rosalia wondered if perhaps now was the time for her to share with him why she was separated from her loved ones. But she didn't want to dampen the mood. She was having a good time, and she didn't want a dark cloud to be hanging over them as it had that day in Messina after she'd asked the merchants about her family. Besides, she was still too afraid to tell him why she was estranged from her family. For that would mean having to tell him about Marco. And she definitely was not ready to tell Antonio about him.

“I'm sorry, Rosalia, if I was too forward by kissing you. I don't know what came over me. Well . . . that's not exactly true. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, and talking about how much I miss my mother and your sharing with me how you could understand how I felt just made me lose all reason. I just wanted to hold you close. Ah! I'm embarrassing you again. I can see your face coloring up.”

Rosalia patted her cheeks with her hands as if the action would make them blush less.

“I take after my mother.”

“What?” Antonio looked confused.

“My cheeks burning up so much . . . how I blush over any little thing that makes me embarrassed or uncomfortable. I get that from my mother. My father always teased her about that, and then he teased me when he noticed I suffered from the same affliction. I'm cursed.”

Rosalia looked at Antonio, and then they broke out laughing. They laughed so hard that tears came to their eyes. Once their laughter subsided, Rosalia realized she no longer felt flushed.

“Rosalia, I can tell you are the type of girl who needs to take her time with things, and I want you to know I am a very patient person. I would like to court you and become even better friends with you than we are now. Would you consider letting me court you?”

She was stunned. Though she'd sensed recently that Antonio might like her in that way, she had kept hoping she was wrong, just as she had been trying to fool herself into thinking that the reason why she felt strange around him, especially when he held her hand, was because he was like a brother to her. But now, after their kiss and his admission of wanting to court her, she could no longer deny it. She didn't know though if she was ready after her ordeal with Marco. Besides, what would happen if Antonio got his wish of going to cooking school in Paris? Was he just using her to make the time at the convent go by quickly? No. She knew in her heart Antonio was not like that. He was a good person. Just as she had known early on that Marco was bad.

“Antonio, I like spending time with you. I have learned a lot from you working by your side at the pastry shop. And you are so kind to me. I feel like I can trust you. But I must warn you. I'm not sure about a lot in my life right now. It is hard for me to make any concrete plans for even the near future because my thoughts are so focused on trying to find my family. I don't want to mislead you. Perhaps it might be better if we just remained the good friends that we already are.”

Antonio looked crestfallen. She could see his cheeks suck in as he let out a long breath. Again, she felt sad that she was letting him down, but she knew she had to be honest with him.

“What are you so afraid of, Rosalia? You say you trust me, but you don't.”

“That's not true. I do.”

Antonio shook his head. “From the moment we first met, I sensed how scared you were, especially around me. I didn't see you act as nervously around the women at the convent. The only times I'd seen you anxious was around me, at least those first few weeks after we met, and then whenever one of the men who work on the convent's property or who make deliveries would walk by you. I know you feel more comfortable around me now. I don't doubt that, but I still sense you are holding yourself back and don't fully trust me. I also know, Rosalia, that someone hurt you very badly. And I suspect this is why you still don't trust me completely.”

Rosalia's face paled. “What do you know?”

“Nothing. I can just tell by the way you have acted around me and, as I said, whenever another man is nearby. That day when my friend gave us a ride back to the convent from Messina, you seemed very nervous around him. Rosalia, I just want to help you.”

Antonio waited for Rosalia to respond, but she didn't for a couple of minutes.

“You are right. I don't trust men easily. And someone did hurt me. But that is all I can say for now. I mean it, however, when I tell you that I trust you, Antonio. At least now, I do. I know you would never hurt me, and I feel safe when I'm with you. But just because I do trust you and feel safe with you doesn't mean that I'm ready for our friendship to become something more. You were also right when you said you could tell I need to take things slow.”

“That's fine. Would you at least consider spending more time with me? I mean, spending more time with me alone, away from the convent, like that day we went to Messina. I was thinking on our days off of work from the pastry shop, we could go on a few outings. But I want it to be just us—none of our friends joining us like Francesco and Teresa. This way we can get to know each other better.”

“Well, I have no objection to not inviting Francesco and Teresa. That is probably the real reason why you couldn't help yourself tonight and kissed me, since you had those two constantly locking lips in our faces!” Rosalia laughed.

Antonio laughed with her.

“You have quite a sense of humor, I'm beginning to see. It makes me happy that you can laugh and joke with me like you do. That shows me you truly do feel comfortable around me now.”

They could hear fireworks erupting in the distance.

“Ah! Let's go. I don't want you to miss the fireworks.”

“We can see them from here.” Rosalia pointed to the sky off in the distance, near where the parade had ended.

“It's not close enough. Come on!” Antonio held out his hand. They ran through the streets as they approached the fireworks.

The sound was deafening as they arrived at the spot where the fireworks were launching into the night sky. Rosalia held her fingers to her ears as she stared at the spectacle of lights playing out above her. She then felt Antonio wrap his arms around her. Instead of fighting the feelings, she decided to surrender to them. She'd been alone for months now, without the comfort and love of her family. Except for Madre Carmela, no one else had hugged her. She leaned into Antonio and wrapped her own arms around him. And when Antonio looked down into her face, surprise etched over his features in response to her gesture, she stood on her toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

“Is that my answer? You never did answer my question as to whether I can court you.” Antonio continued to hold Rosalia close as he spoke into her ear so she could hear above the din of the fireworks.

“You have my permission to court me.” Rosalia smiled.

Antonio took her hand and kissed the back of it.

The fireworks were over, and an orchestra began playing a Viennese waltz. As people danced, they put their masks back on after having taken them off to witness the fireworks display. Rosalia couldn't help feeling like she was a character in an opera.

“Shall we dance?” Antonio bowed toward Rosalia, flourishing his hand dramatically.

She placed her flowers and mask on a nearby bench. She then placed her hand in Antonio's as she let him guide her in their waltz. As they danced, she realized she was feeling something she hadn't felt in quite some time—she felt a glimmer of happiness.

16

Piparelli

CRUNCHY SPICE COOKIES

 

 

 

 

R
osalia ran in and out of the porticoed archway that lined the first story of the convent's property. As soon as she spotted Teresa chasing her, she quickly hid behind the wall of one of the arches.

“It's no use, Rosalia! I will catch you sooner or later!” Teresa called out.

Rosalia laughed before saying, “I'm too fast for you!”

She and Teresa had decided to play this silly game to quell their boredom. Ever since Lent had begun, they, along with the other lay workers and the nuns, were expected to do their work in silence as much as possible in order to reflect on their sins; they were to remember that the next forty days were to be a somber time of penance and prayer. Normally, Rosalia would have followed the rules as she'd been doing ever since she had come to stay at the convent. But they were now in their third week of Lent, and she couldn't take the morose air any longer.

The only lay worker who didn't seem to mind that they could no longer joke and talk animatedly while they worked in the kitchen or did their other hobbies when they had free time was Elisabetta, of course. She had begun her training to become a nun, and she was not going to let anything get in the way of her dream. Unlike her sister, Teresa, she intended to become the best nun, and to devote the rest of her life in service to God. Ever since Rosalia had gone to the Carnevale celebrations in Acireale, she had become closer to Teresa. But she still didn't have the courage to ask her what had happened before she came to the Convento di Santa Lucia to cause her to be defrocked as a nun.

Rosalia was getting tired and decided to surrender to Teresa. Running into plain sight, she held up her arms.

“I give up. You win! Let's take a break.”

“You're not supposed to give up. What fun is that? You're supposed to let me catch you.” Teresa frowned.

They walked over to the Saint Lucy statue by the fountain. It was an overcast day, but the cloudy weather did not detract from the signs of spring that were evident all around them. It was the second week in March, and the official start of the season was just a couple of weeks away. The magnolia trees had already bloomed, and tulips, daffodils, and wildflowers were shooting up all around the convent's gardens. Rosalia took some small comfort in seeing everything turn green again even if she wished she were back home, watching the flowers in her mother's garden come to life. She tried not to let herself think about the fact that it was now seven months since she'd been separated from her family. And still no word from the police about where her family had moved.

“Where is Antonio?” Teresa broke in on Rosalia's thoughts.

“Madre Carmela sent him into town to pick up a few supplies.”

“You still have not told her that he is your beau?”

“He's not my beau.” Rosalia blushed.

“Oh, really? One does not hold hands or steal kisses with someone who is just a friend.”

“I don't want to tell Madre Carmela. I don't want her thinking we are being disrespectful on the convent's property. This is a sacred place. Besides, Antonio has plans to leave the convent someday. We are just good friends.”

“You're too serious sometimes, Rosalia. You are not acting disrespectfully toward Madre Carmela or the convent if you sneak a kiss with Antonio or have a litte fun.” She smirked before adding, “So you say you are just good friends and nothing more. But you do care about him?”

“Of course.”

“What I meant is, you are in love with him? You get that funny feeling in your stomach whenever he is near or whenever he holds your hand. And when he kisses you, it's like you're seeing stars.”

“How did you know?” Rosalia looked up at Teresa in surprise.

“Oh, Rosalia! You are still so innocent.”

Rosalia's brows furrowed in anger. “I am not.” And then she thought about how true it was that she was no longer innocent since Marco had robbed her of her maidenhood.

Sensing what Rosalia was thinking, Teresa softened her tone.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to think I was making fun of you. I was taken aback that you didn't realize that what you feel when you are around Antonio is love. You are falling in love with him. I know because that is how I feel when I am with Francesco.” Teresa's eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look as she said this.

Rosalia hadn't considered that her affectionate feelings for Antonio were signs that she had fallen in love with him. But she knew in her heart Teresa was right. Every day that she spent with Antonio, she found her feelings and admiration for him deepening. Still. She couldn't let herself get carried away. Her future was uncertain. Until she was reunited with her family, she could not think about what she wanted. And as she had told Teresa, Antonio was planning on going to culinary school someday, somewhere far away. They were just enjoying each other's company and friendship. She knew she should put a stop to what was developing between them. She should push him away when he leaned in to kiss her or whisper how pretty she looked on a certain day. Rosalia didn't know why she hadn't. Well. Maybe she did know. She enjoyed kissing him and holding his hand. She enjoyed feeling safe in his arms. And Antonio made her feel special. He made her feel loved—something she hadn't felt since she had been in the comfort of her home and had the love of her parents and siblings surrounding her.

Deciding to deflect the attention off herself, Rosalia asked Teresa, “When are you going to tell Elisabetta about Francesco?”

Teresa shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe never.” She laughed.

“So you intend to keep your relationship with Francesco a secret forever? What if he wants to marry you?”

Teresa's face grew serious. “He does want to marry me.”

“He has already asked you?” Rosalia asked incredulously. “When?”

“The night of Carnevale, right after the fireworks show.”

“And you are only telling me now?”

“I wanted to keep it private, especially since . . .” Teresa's voice trailed off.

“
Dio mio!
” Rosalia made the sign of the cross. “You are not with child, are you?”

“No, no! Although I would not be horrified.”

Rosalia was stunned, but did her best not to show her surprise. It was obvious from what Teresa had just said that she and Francesco had been intimate with each other. Rosalia had thought every young woman would want to wait until she was married—though she knew there were a few who didn't. Then again, Teresa seemed to embrace life fully and not follow any rules of convention. Rosalia didn't know why she'd been surprised to learn Teresa wasn't a virgin. Perhaps Rosalia was a little jealous—for unlike her, Teresa had been able to choose whom she would give her virginity to. It hadn't been brutally taken from her. Tears quickly sprang in Rosalia's eyes.

“Rosalia! What is the matter?”

Rosalia wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Nothing. Please don't mind me. I am happy for you and Francesco.”

“And you could be happy, too, with Antonio. Don't you see that, Rosalia? I know you have been through a terrible ordeal—what happened to you in that cave.” Teresa whispered the last phrase. “But you mustn't let what that man did to you ruin the rest of your life. Do you hear me, Rosalia?”

Once again, Rosalia's tendency to flush easily won over. Although she knew that everyone at the convent must've known or guessed what had happened to her, she still felt ashamed when she realized yet someone else knew. Would there ever come a day when the shame would disappear?

“Please, Teresa. I don't want to talk about that, and you mustn't breathe a word about it to Antonio. Have . . . have the workers and the nuns talked about me behind my back? Do you think someone said something to him?”

“No, no! We all love you.”

“But how did you know about what happened to me?”

“Naturally, the nuns mentioned how they had found you when they returned from their almond harvesting that day. They described the state you were in. We had our suspicions, but no one has ever said with certainty. And the nuns wouldn't talk about it beyond that day. You know how they are. They would never utter the words to express that a man had possibly violated you. However, I see now I was right in my suspicions. I'm so sorry, Rosalia.” Teresa placed her arm around Rosalia's shoulders and pulled Rosalia in to her as she embraced her.

“
Grazie,
Teresa. You are a good friend. Please, do not worry about me. I will be fine. Now back to you. Did you give Francesco an answer? Will you marry him?”

“
Si.
I can think of nothing I want more.” She glanced toward the convent's entrance and then behind her shoulders. “I will trust you. As you said, we are good friends. But you can't tell anyone about this, especially Elisabetta,” Teresa whispered in an urgent voice as she squeezed Rosalia's hand.

“I swear. You have my word. I won't tell anyone.”

“We are going to elope!” Teresa whispered, her voice barely able to contain her excitement.

“Elope? Where will you go?”

“Francesco has gotten a job with the municipality in Messina. We are going to live in the city! I've always wanted to live in the city. Country life has never really suited me.”

Rosalia had no doubts about that.

“So he has a good job and will be able to take care of me. I won't have to slave away any longer in the convent's kitchen. I can focus on being his wife and raising his children.” Once again, Teresa's eyes glazed over with a dreamy look.

“You don't enjoy making the pastries?” This came as a surprise to Rosalia since she thought everyone working at the pastry shop took pleasure in their work and loved it as much as she did.

“It's too much work. The only thing that I am grateful for about having worked here is that I'll be able to make lavish cakes and sweets for my husband and for my children on special occasions. I just need to learn how to cook. But that can't be too hard since I know how to bake.”

“When are you planning on eloping?”

Teresa sighed. “We have to wait until after Easter since the church doesn't hold weddings during this cursed season of Lent! I will certainly not miss spending Lent at the convent or having to go to church and pray so much. I had enough of that when I was a nun.”

Feeling emboldened now that Teresa had mentioned her previous life, Rosalia decided to finally ask her what she'd been dying to ask.

“May I ask you, Teresa, why you became a nun? And what happened that you were asked to leave your previous convent?”

Teresa's face clouded over. For a few seconds, she remained silent, before saying, “It is a long story.”

“I'm sorry. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I didn't mean to pry. It's just that I was shocked to hear you had been a nun.”

Teresa laughed. “I'm sure. You could tell even when you hardly knew me, I was not meant for that life!”

“I think we all could tell.” Rosalia couldn't help but also laugh.

“I had no choice. Elisabetta and I lost our mother when I was fourteen, and she was twelve. Our father had died when we were very young, so Mamma raised us alone. She then contracted a fever and did not recover. The local convent agreed to take us in, but their order only consisted of eight nuns. The town we were from was very small, so the convent was having a difficult time finding novitiates. They agreed to take Elisabetta and me only if we promised to become nuns once we were the right age. We were desperate. There were no other family members who were willing to take us in and feed us. It was my uncle, my mother's own brother, who took us to the convent and asked the nuns if they would take us.” Teresa's voice filled with anger. “The bastard. He only had one child, and he had a prosperous mill. He could have afforded to take us in. But he didn't bat an eyelash at giving away his sister's children.”

Rosalia reflected on how so many people she knew had lost their families. Madre Carmela had lost hers when they gave her up as a child; Antonio's mother had died, and he had decided to forsake his father; Rosalia was estranged from her own family; and Teresa and Elisabetta had been orphaned. While Rosalia knew it was inevitable and that someday everyone would be separated from his or her family, especially once they died, this realization didn't make it easier for her to accept that her parents and siblings were no longer in her life. And that perhaps she would never see them again.

Teresa continued her story. “So, I became a nun when the sisters felt I was the right age. I hated it! The long hours spent kneeling on those hard wooden pews, saying over and over again the same prayers. The itchy cheap habit I had to wear. Having nothing to look foward to, day in and day out. At least at the Convento di Santa Lucia, the nuns have their pastry making, and they don't pray all day like the nuns at the convent where I took my orders. The nuns here don't seem as strict either—except for Sorella Domenica. She belongs at one of the more severe convents, like where I used to live. The worst was when they shaved my head.” Teresa took her golden locks, which she was wearing in a ponytail today, and pulled them over her shoulder as she stroked her hair. “Can you imagine shaving off all this beautiful hair?” Teresa shuddered.

“I think most of the sisters see it as a small sacrifice to show they are giving up all vanity for God, just as they all wear the same simple habits.”

“Small sacrifice? Are you out of your mind, Rosalia? Can you imagine shaving off all that lustrous black hair you have?”