Stella Mia (14 page)

My pulse is racing. For a moment, I contemplate walking away. Closing my eyes, I will my nerves to calm down. Taking a deep breath, I enter the hotel, and at last my breath is taken away. The interior of the hotel is beyond grand and much more impressive than its exterior. The walls are painted in warm shades of coral and orange. Beautiful, enormous vases stand in various corners and niches around the lobby. Windows surround the interior, giving majestic views of Taormina's natural beauty.

“Buongiorno, signorina.”
A middle-aged man with a thick mustache, a deep olive complexion, and the most intense black eyes I've ever seen greets me.

He looks at my hands, no doubt noting I don't have any luggage.

“May I help you?”

Swallowing hard, I'm tempted to say I walked into the wrong hotel and leave, but I know I must take my chance or else I will always be wondering. “Someone in town mentioned to me that the hotel is looking for a singer. Do you know if the owner is here today, and if so may I speak to him?”

The man sizes me up from head to toe before saying, “I am the owner of the Villa Carlotta. My name is Silvano Conti.”

“
Mi dispiace.
I'm sorry. I did not know. My name is Sarina Amato.”

“
Non preoccuparti.
Do not worry. You said someone in town told you I was looking for a singer?”

My spirits lift. So it is true. “
Si.
Angela, who owns the bread shop.” I suddenly realize I don't know Angela's surname. “I'm sorry. I do not know her surname.” My face blushes slightly.

“Everyone knows Angela and her famous bread! We carry her bread in our restaurant.” Silvano laughs. Something about the way he laughs bothers me slightly.

“I am sorry to disturb you. But I would like to apply for the position. That is unless you have hired someone else already?”

“No, no. I have only had a handful of people come to me, and I wanted to run when each of them sang. I was about to give up the idea of even having a singer. So you sing? Where have you worked before? You look quite young if you do not mind my saying so.”

“Yes, I sing. I have not sung for money before, but I have been told my voice is strong by those who have heard it.” I silently pray he at least gives me a chance and lets me audition.

“
Si, si.
I suppose it would not hurt to hear you sing.” He says this with what sounds like resignation in his voice.

He has probably heard the same from the other people who applied and believes I will be as atrocious as them. Anger begins to fill my veins, as my mother always liked to say—usually in reference to my father, of course. Signore Conti seems to have already made up his mind without knowing a thing about me. I will prove him wrong. My hesitation and fears from a moment ago vanish as I focus instead on singing the best I ever have.

“Grazie, signore,”
I say, forcing my voice to sound sweet.

“Follow me. We'll go into the bar. Our previous singer usually sang on the dining patio outside while our guests had their dinners. But when it was raining or in the cooler months, she sang indoors.”

“So you do not hire singers just for the summer months?”

“No. Our hotel has quite a reputation. While our rooms are not completely booked in the cooler months, we still get enough guests for me to be able to keep the nightly entertainment.”

I'm pleased to hear this since if I am hired I won't be forced to look for other employment in the fall and winter.

“The singer who left us was quite talented. She was an opera singer. Though I was upset to lose her, I am also quite proud that one of my singers is now at the famous La Scala, the opera house in—”

“Milan. Yes, I have heard of it.” I cannot hide the irritation in my voice this time. Again, Signore Conti is making judgments.

“Ah! Of course you have heard of it.”

“Did she usually sing opera here?”

“Sometimes, but I asked her not to sing it often. I wanted a more relaxed environment. After all, the tourists are coming to Taormina for rest. While I am an opera enthusiast myself, there is a time and a place for it. However, I must say the few occasions she did sing opera the guests did not seem to mind and were also pleasantly surprised. Perhaps I should have let her sing it more often.” Signore Conti shrugs his shoulders. “You don't sing opera, do you?” He has an amused expression.

“No, I do not.”

“That is what I thought. Well, enough talk. You came here to sing after all. You can stand over here.” Signore Conti gestures toward the open windows to the back of the bar. Now that we are no longer talking, I can take in the room that houses the bar, which is exquisite. What looks to be limestone rocks make up the wall behind the actual bar. A few arches are carved out of the limestone rocks, and elaborate silver sculptures sit in the open spaces. The windows are not as large in this room, creating a dimmer interior. I can imagine how it must look at night.

I walk over to where Signore Conti has gestured for me to stand. He goes behind the bar and takes a glass and a decanter of liquor. Pouring himself a drink, he comes back around the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools. A worker, no doubt the bartender, arrives and nods his head at Signore Conti as he begins lining up clean glasses on the counter behind the bar. He isn't wearing a bartender's uniform, but just as I think this, I notice he heads for a door to the back. He doesn't even glance my way. I look around the room and notice there is just a maid cleaning the small tables that surround the bar area. Relieved there aren't more people to witness my audition, I clear my throat a few times.

“Would you like some water before you begin, Sarina? Or perhaps something stronger to calm your nerves?” Signore Conti smiles derisively. My anger returns.

“No, I am fine. But thank you.”

“
Va bene.
Whenever you are ready.” He gestures toward me with his glass of liquor and then takes a huge gulp.

Instead of singing the folk-style songs that I normally love to sing, I decide to sing a popular song from the 1950s that was sung by Teddy Reno called “Piccolissima Serenata”—small serenade.

Closing my eyes, I begin to belt out the lyrics of the song. When I open my eyes, I try to avoid looking at Signore Conti, but I can tell from my peripheral vision he is giving me his full attention. The bartender has come out from the back and is now in his uniform. He leans his elbows on the bar, resting his chin in his hands as he watches me sing. Even the maid has stopped her cleaning and is tapping her foot along to the tempo of my singing. Seeing I have a rapt audience makes me bolder as I begin to swing my hips and snap my fingers. I am completely losing myself in the singing and don't care anymore what Signore Conti thinks of me. And for the moment, I don't even care if he gives me the job. All that matters right now is my love of singing and the joy I am feeling. I am truly happiest when I sing.

I finish the song, and everyone applauds—even Signore Conti! He stands up and says,
“Bravissima! Bravissima!”

I merely nod my head and say,
“Grazie.”

“That was amazing. How long have you been singing?” the bartender asks me.

“Since I was a young girl.”

“Forgive me. My name is Gaetano.” He walks over, extending his hand.

“I think I liked your version of ‘Piccolissima Serenata' better than Teddy Reno's!” the maid gushes like a teenage groupie. She walks over and also introduces herself.
“Mi chiamo Grazia.”

“Sarina.” I point to myself. “It's nice to meet you, Grazia. What a beautiful name. I can see a song being made with your name.” I smile warmly at her.

“Do you also write your own songs? Maybe you can write a song just for me!” Grazia giggles. Though she has to be in her late twenties, she still exhibits a schoolgirl's demeanor.

“Maybe!” I laugh.

“So you do write your own songs?” Signore Conti asks. He is looking at me differently than he was at the beginning of our meeting. I now see respect in his eyes.

“Yes. I usually like to sing my own songs, but of course I have favorites from popular musicians, too.”

“I forgot to mention that I also have a piano player who accompanies the singer.” Signore Conti gestures toward Gaetano.

“I thought you were the bartender?” I ask in surprise.

Gaetano laughs. “I am. But I need the extra money, so Signore Conti agreed to hire me as a pianist as well. It's helped greatly since we lost Anna, the singer we had.”

“I take it you don't sing?”

“No. My voice is okay, but just that. Besides, I'm happier just playing the piano.”

“Can you start tonight?” Signore Conti asks me.

“
Si. Grazie molto.
I will not disappoint you or your guests.”

“I'm sure you won't.” Signore Conti laughs and pats my shoulder. He then turns to Gaetano and Grazia. “Can you please excuse us? I want to discuss some details in private with her.”

Gaetano and Grazia walk out of the bar.

Signore Conti tells me how much he will be paying me. I try to hide my elation since it is much more than I had hoped for.

“That is generous.
Grazie, signore
.”

“Where do you live?”

My face immediately turns crimson as I cringe at the thought of having to tell him I live on the beach. I cannot think of a lie and decide to be honest.

“I am living on one of the beaches. I had a difficult time securing work when I arrived in Taormina last month. There is a group of gypsies on the beach. They were kind enough to let me stay with them in their tent.” I do not meet Signore Conti's gaze.

“Gypsies do not act kindly toward others without getting something in return.” Signore Conti lowers his face until his eyes meet mine.

“They offered to teach me how to read tarot cards. I split what I make with them. They pay for my food as well.”

Signore Conti begins pacing back and forth, looking pensive as he smoothes down his mustache with the fingers of his right hand.

“How would you feel about reading fortunes here in addition to singing? I've never had a fortune-teller, and whenever I'm at the beaches, I see all the fools who flock for a reading. I will pay you an additional five liras a week. Also, you will need to be much closer since you will be working at night and the tram suspends service in the evenings. I can offer you room and board. Of course, it will be a room in the staff's quarters, but I'm sure it will be more comfortable than the gypsies' tents on the beach.”

“Thank you. I was worried about where I would live since it would be hard for me to take the tram every day, not to mention the expense.”

“
Va bene!
It is all decided then.” He looks quite pleased with himself.

“Signore Conti, I'm sorry. I know I told you I could start right away, but I just realized that the gypsies I have been staying with will be worried if I don't return tonight. They have treated me well, and I don't want to give them cause for concern. Would it be possible for me to start work tomorrow instead? This would also give me a chance to get my belongings.”

“You give these gypsies too much thought. If it were the other way around, trust me you would be far from their minds. But that is fine. I've been without a singer for weeks now. One more day won't break me. Actually, I almost forgot. I take it you do not have a larger wardrobe?” Signore Conti takes in my dress disapprovingly.

“It is quite hot on the beach so I have had to resort to wearing sundresses. I can buy more appropriate dresses for work after I make my first earnings.”

Signore Conti reaches in his back trousers' pocket and takes out his wallet. He pulls out several liras and says, “I'll pay you for this week now so you can go buy a couple of dresses that would be suitable. Since you don't have to be at work until tomorrow evening, you have the rest of today and tomorrow to shop. Go to Gisella's. She is across the street from Angela's bread shop. Tell her you will be my new singer, and she will know what you should purchase.”

“Grazie molto, signore!”
I am absolutely beaming now. I cannot believe my good fortune.

“If you do not have any other questions, I must leave for a meeting now.”

“No. I do not have any questions. Thank you again, Signore Conti. I will see you tomorrow evening.”

“Yes. Please don't be late. Ah! I don't believe I told you when to arrive. Come by four p.m. You can rehearse for a bit in here before the bar opens.”

I nod my head.
“Arrivederci, Signore Conti.”

“Arrivederci.”
Signore Conti looks at his watch and then hurries away.

I take my time leaving the Villa Carlotta. Reveling in its grandeur, I feel giddy at the thought that soon I will be spending most of my time in such a magnificent place.

Once outside, I walk quickly to Angela's. I cannot wait to tell her my good news. On my way to Angela's, I decide to visit the Church of San Nicola in the Piazza Duomo to say a quick prayer in thanks for getting the job at the Villa Carlotta. The medieval church is also known as the Duomo of Taormina. A gorgeous Baroque fountain with a centaur is situated in the center of the piazza. I remember learning in school that the centaur is the symbol of Taormina.

Once inside, I step into one of the pews and sit on the bench. After I thank God for all the blessings He has given me since I arrived in Taormina, my thoughts drift to my father. If only he could see me now.