Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop (33 page)

“We had to leave because the landlord, who lived below us, was tired of hearing Francesco yelling during his drunken bouts. We moved closer to the marina. Although Francesco was a drunk, somehow he was able to function at his job at the municipality, so we weren't struggling financially. Before I left, I took all the money he kept in the house, but I was only able to rent a room with what I had, and I went through the money in just a few months. It's so hard to find work. I was cleaning a man's apartment, but then he wanted me to sleep with him, so I never went back. Now I pickpocket and take whatever charity strangers give me. Elisabetta was right. I should've stayed a nun. At least I would have had a roof over my head, and I wouldn't have lost all sense of dignity.”

“Why didn't you come back to the convent, Teresa? You should have known you would always have a place to stay there.”

“I didn't know that. I thought after the way I left without saying good-bye to anyone that I wouldn't be welcome. How was I to know that Madre Carmela wouldn't think my actions were selfish and that I had just used her and her generosity, especially when she had been so kind and had taken Elisabetta and me in after I was thrown out of our last convent? And she would have been right to think that about me. I had been selfish, even toward Elisabetta. All I cared about was what I wanted and the wonderful future I was going to have. I turned my back on my own sister. I don't blame Elisabetta if she never forgives me.”

“She will forgive you; she has already. I told you she was upset when she learned you had eloped with Francesco, but I think she was more concerned that you were making another mistake. She truly thought you would've been better off had you remained a nun, but she has told me in the years since you left that she realizes that was absurd and that you were never meant to take vows. She said she realized that the reason she was so insistent on your becoming a nun was that she was afraid she would lose you forever if you didn't also take vows. Please, Teresa, come back with me to the convent. There are people there who love you. You can be my right-hand person in the pastry shop. And who's to say you won't meet someone more deserving of your love than Francesco someday? Don't feel like your life is over.”

“Oh, Rosalia. I mean, Sorella Agata. I don't think I can get used to calling you Sorella! You are now giving me the same advice I gave you once about not thinking your life was over after what that monster did to you in that cave. Isn't it funny how life turns out, my friend?”

“As I've learned over and over again, we can never quite know what is in store for us. So will you come back home with me?”

Teresa nodded her head.

“Good. If you had said no, I would've dragged you back anyway.”

Teresa got up off the bench and took her suitcase. She linked arms with Sorella Agata and, while they walked, they laughed and exchanged stories from when they had lived at the convent together, even recalling when they had gone out on double dates with Francesco and Antonio. From behind, one could not tell that eight years had stood between the two friends. For they looked as close as ever.

27

Latte di Mandorla

ALMOND MILK

 

 

 

 

C
laudia woke up with the sound of the rooster crowing as she did every morning, but today she didn't immediately get out of bed. She had been up late with Sorella Agata the night before, listening to her recount how she had found Teresa on the streets. Though Claudia had been prepared to stay up the whole night to hear the rest of the nun's story, Sorella Agata had insisted they go to bed.

With much effort, Claudia forced herself to sit up. Stretching her arms overhead, she hit her hands on the wooden cross that hung above her bed. Claudia got out of bed and gently straightened it. She noticed a small tag dangling from beneath the purple silk roses that were tied around the cross. Taking a closer look, Claudia read the small handwritten note in Italian that translated to:
You will always be my rose
.

Was this perhaps a gift to Rosalia from Antonio? Claudia remembered noticing the cross when Sorella Agata had taken her to her room on the day of her arrival. She also remembered the sad expression Sorella Agata had had when Claudia had commented on how beautiful the cross was. Sorella Agata had mentioned that it had been a gift, and it was obvious whoever had written the note was referencing Sorella Agata's birth name, since the name
Rosalia
was derived from the Latin word for
rose
. Claudia also noticed that the silk roses were purple. Hadn't Sorella Agata mentioned that purple was Rosalia's favorite color? Yes, Claudia now remembered it was.

She sighed deeply. Sorella Agata had been through so much in her life. Who would have thought that this slightly plump nun who took such pride in her pastries and seemed to live such a simple life had had so much heartache in her past? And then to learn about the shelter she'd founded for women who had been abused or were homeless. She truly was amazing. Claudia respected the way the nun had managed to find purpose in her life after suffering so much loss.

A half hour later, Claudia was in the kitchen watching the nuns at work. They were making
Latte di Mandorla
—almond milk. From the almond paste that was used to make marzipan and so many cookies and pastries to sherbet and drinks such as
Latte di Mandorla
and even the almond syrup known as
Orzata,
the almond truly was front and center in much of Sicilian cuisine.

One of the older lay workers was holding a strainer lined with two layers of cheesecloth while Veronique, the inquisitive, young apprentice Claudia had met on her first day at the convent, poured almond puree through the strainer. The lay worker instructed Veronique to press on the puree with the back of her wooden spoon so they could extract as much of the liquid as possible. The lay worker wore her hair up in a bun. The gray in her hair was quickly overtaking the blond color it once was. When Veronique was done pressing the puree, the older woman said something to make her laugh, and then the woman struck a pose as if she were still young and was flirting with someone. A thought occurred to Claudia. Could this possibly be Teresa?

“You are a clown, Teresa! Now get back to work.”

So it
was
Teresa. A nun with a few wisps of black hair that peeked out from under her habit joined her and Veronique.

“
Dai,
Elisabetta! I am the older sister, so if anyone should be scolding it should be me!”

And this was Elisabetta, Teresa's sister, who had become a nun and now went by Sorella Lucia, but Claudia saw that her sibling still chose to call her by her Christian name. Claudia watched the two sisters, who soon broke out into laughter. Claudia could see that the rancor that had once existed between them when they were younger was now gone. Sorella Agata had been right in telling Teresa when she found her on the streets that Elisabetta would be happy to see her again.

Claudia had met most of the workers in the kitchen, but she had never been good with names, so she hadn't remembered, when Sorella Agata had told her about Teresa and Elisabetta, that they were still here at the Convento di Santa Lucia del Mela.

The two sisters instructed Veronique to pour the almond milk with a ladle into Mason jars. Claudia wondered how much longer the young apprentice had to go until she would be well versed in the art of pastry making. She could see that what Sorella Agata had told her was true: They all thought of Veronique as a little sister. But it wasn't just Veronique. In her time at the convent, Claudia had noticed there was a strong sense of sisterhood among both the nuns and the lay workers.

Her eyes rested on the elderly Madre Carmela. She was seated in a tall wooden chair at a counter. She almost looked like a child in a high chair, waiting to be fed. One of the younger nuns placed a tray of
Tetù,
Clove-Scented Chocolate Cookies, and a bowl filled with icing in front of Madre Carmela. With shaky hands, the old nun dipped the baked cookies into the warm glaze and placed them carefully onto an empty tray lined with parchment paper. Claudia saw the glaze drip onto the nun's habit and onto the floor, and she noticed the younger nun noticed, but instead of pointing it out to Madre Carmela, the younger nun complimented her on her work.

Tears came to Claudia's eyes. She felt silly to be moved by seeing the younger nun treat Madre Carmela with respect. But it was this kind of behavior, which she had witnessed over and over again at the convent these past few weeks, that made Claudia feel like something was missing in her own life. Being here had forced her to reflect on her life back home in New York, and watching these women, who it was obvious cared so much about one another and shared a communal bond of respect and sisterhood, made Claudia realize how lonely she'd been in New York. She had acquaintances, but she was so consumed by her career that she didn't make the time to form more lasting relationships, just as she hadn't made the time for the men she'd dated. Now, she realized she wanted more lasting relationships. Perhaps it was hearing Sorella Agata's story as well that had made Claudia realize how important the bonds of family and good friends were. She found herself phoning home and speaking to her family, which she could tell had surprised them since when she was in New York she only spoke to them a few times a month, if that. She made a silent promise to herself that she would make some changes when she returned.

“Would you like some almond milk?” Veronique stood before Claudia holding a small bowl of
Latte di Mandorla
.

“
Grazie,
Veronique.”

Claudia took a sip of the almond milk, which was warm. It tasted nothing like the almond milk she'd had back home.

“This is so delicious!”

“I'm glad you like it. May I ask you what America is like?” Veronique's voice was low, and she glanced nervously over her shoulder.

“It's wonderful. But so is Italy, and especially Sicily. Perhaps you can come to New York some time, and I'll show you around?”

Veronique's eyes opened wide. “I would like that very much. My grandfather has always said he wants to go to New York.”

“Before I leave, I'll be sure to give you my phone number. Please, call me if you come.”

“
Grazie,
Claudia. Oh, please, don't tell Sorella Agata about this. I wouldn't want her to think I invited myself.”

Claudia laughed. “But you didn't. I invited you. And I would tell her that, but I won't mention anything about the conversation.”

“I should go.
Buongiorno.
”

“
Buongiorno,
Veronique.”

Though Veronique looked to be college-age, she acted younger. Claudia wondered if she would ever make it to New York.

“
Buongiorno,
Claudia. You look as tired as I feel.” Sorella Agata walked over to Claudia, holding her lower back.

“Are you all right, Sister? I shouldn't have kept you up so late last night. I'm sorry.”

“I'm as much to blame. As I said, my story was long, and I'm still not done with it. My bed has also been giving me backaches recently. I think it's time for a new mattress.”

Sorella Agata poured some almond milk that was still waiting to be stored into a small bowl, and sipped it slowly.

“Let's go outside where we won't be disturbed. I've decided to take the morning off so we can pick up where I left off last night.”

Claudia was surprised. In her time here, she hadn't seen Sorella Agata take a whole morning off.

“Are you sure the kitchen can spare you?”

“
Si, si.
I need to start taking it easier. Besides, I want to finish telling you the rest of my story. It's been quite draining, to say the least, and you have been so patient.”

Claudia noticed the necklace with a small gold crucifix that Sorella Agata wore. Her thoughts turned to the wooden cross with the silk rosebuds that hung above her bed.

“Sorella Agata, is the room I'm staying in normally yours?”

She looked up in surprise at Claudia's question. She nodded.

“You didn't have to give me your room. I feel bad that I've displaced you.”

Sorella Agata waved her hand. “Please. Don't worry. I wanted you to be comfortable, and my room is the most spacious of the rooms in the convent. Naturally, as the mother superior, I have the largest room, but I don't need that extra space.”

“Thank you, Sorella. That was very generous of you.”

Sorella Agata sipped her almond milk.

“May I ask you about the cross that hangs above the bed? I happened to notice this morning the tag with the handwritten note. I remembered you said it was a gift.”

Sorella Agata's eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Sorella. If you don't wish to talk about the cross, I understand.”

Sorella Agata took a handkerchief out from one of the pockets of her habit and dabbed her eyes.

“It is all right, Claudia.” She paused a moment before continuing. “Yes, the cross was a gift from someone very dear to me.”

“Antonio?”

Sorella Agata didn't answer. After a moment, she said, “Do you believe in miracles, Claudia?”

Claudia shrugged. “I don't think I've ever given much thought to them, so I don't really know if I believe in them.”

“Well, God granted me a miracle back in 1980. And it was the perfect night for miracles. You see, it was Christmas Eve. . . .”