Stella Mia (17 page)

“But he does not sing. He just plays the piano.”

“People like listening to the piano by itself, too, Sarina.” Carlo laughs. “What do you think we did when we lost our last singer?”

I nod my head, feeling foolish. “I just do not want anyone to think I am abandoning my duties. I take my work very seriously.”

“Yes, and you have been working hard between your singing and all those tarot readings. You deserve a break.”

“I have Sundays and Mondays off. That is generous. What did you tell Gaetano? He doesn't know—”

“It is all right. He does not suspect about us. I told him you had an urgent matter to tend to. That's not a lie. I urgently needed to spend all this time with you today.” Carlo flashes a devilish grin.

I cannot resist hugging him. “You're too much. But what if Gaetano or one of the other hotel staff sees us coming back?”

“I will let you enter the hotel first. I'll wait a few minutes. Even if any of them suspect, they wouldn't tell my father. If you haven't noticed, he doesn't treat them as kindly as I do. Respect goes a long way.”

I nod my head. Carlo seems to be a bit too trusting. Perhaps because he has never had to fend for himself the way I have.

“Let's go, my Circe.” Carlo holds my hand as he leads me to Notte.

“Circe? Is that your new name for me?”

“Absolutely. For like the famous sorceress from Greek mythology, you have enchanted me with your singing, your beauty, and that kiss you gave me earlier.” Carlo touches his lips to the back of my hand before helping me up onto the horse.

We ride all the way to Carlo's friend's house. I am no longer anxious riding so close to him. I plant little kisses on his neck from time to time. A full moon lights our path tonight. Every so often a haze of clouds floats over the moon. I will never forget this magical day and night we shared on Isola Bella.

Un Amore Magico

 

 

A MAGICAL LOVE

 

 

 

 

C
arlo leads me deeper into the sea at Giardini-Naxos. The lucid waters allow me to see straight down to my feet. Giardini-Naxos is a popular seaside resort, but it is also famous for being near what was the first Greek colony in Sicily. We stop wading just before the water gets deep. Carlo draws me to him and holds me.

“Each day I'm with you, Sarina, you only grow more beautiful.” Carlo strokes my back. Then pulls away and looks into my eyes. He pushes my wet strands of hair behind my shoulders before lowering his head and kissing me.

I close my eyes and let myself be enveloped by his kiss as I feel my body melt into the sun's warmth. Carlo seems to know just when my breaking point is. For he always manages to stop kissing me right before I lose all control—or is he the one who's afraid of surrendering completely?

Sighing deeply, I swim away from Carlo, deciding to play a little game with him.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it look like? I'm taking a swim!” I shout back.

“Wait for me!” Carlo swims after me. Having lived by the beach my whole life, I'm quite a strong swimmer, as is Carlo. I slow down, letting him catch up to me. But then without warning, I dive underwater, swimming a few feet before I come back up. Carlo is treading water, looking at me with an amused smile.

“You're going to tire yourself, Sarina.”

“No, I'm not.” I flip over onto my back and continue swimming away from him. Of course, I've just proven to Carlo that I am getting tired since it takes less energy to swim on one's back. But I don't care as long as I manage to elude him a bit longer.

Carlo swims after me once again. It is hard for me to see how close he is since I am on my back. I decide to stop for a moment and tread water so I can see how far he is. But as soon as I do so, I feel my foot being tugged. Suddenly, I'm underwater. Carlo has his hands around my waist. He then swims upward, taking me back to the surface.

He's laughing. But I am absolutely fuming. Giving him a hard shove, I make my way back toward the shore.

“Sarina, wait! I was just having a little fun with you as you were having with me. Don't be mad!”

All the swimming I've done is catching up to me, and I finally feel short of breath. I keep pushing on until I'm back where our feet were touching the bottom of the sea. I stop, but remain turned away from Carlo. He reaches my side.

“You scared me, Carlo!” I give him my most angry stare.

“Do you really think I would have let any harm come to you? I brought you back up in an instant. But you're right. I shouldn't have startled you that way. Please, let's not waste any time being angry with each other.” Carlo takes my hands and kisses each one of them. This is the first time I've been angry with him, and I'm having a difficult time staying mad.

“Don't ever do that to me again!”

“I won't. I promise. Let's float on our backs and relax. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted after all that swimming.” Carlo leans back, splashing me with water as he kicks up his feet and floats.

I stare at him. He is perfect. From his bronzed physique to the way his hair waves softly, he could have been one of the gods whom the early Greek settlers on Sicily worshipped. But it's not just his looks that are perfection. His tender, kind personality belies his privileged upbringing. Every day at the hotel, I see how kindly he treats the staff.

Keeping his eyes closed, Carlo says, “How long are you going to ogle me? Or are you contemplating drowning me after I gave you such a scare?”

I float onto my back and take hold of his hand. We both remain silent as we enjoy the cool water against our skin.

 

A few hours later as the sun begins to set, we're driving along the winding road that leads to the medieval town of Castelmola. This is my day off from work, so we don't have to worry about rushing back to the hotel in time. Carlo and I have been waking up early so that we can spend most of the morning and afternoon hours together before I work in the evenings. Every day for the past couple of weeks he's taken me to a different attraction in and around Taormina. Signore Conti has been gone longer than we expected. Fortunately, he hasn't sent for Carlo. I know we won't be able to spend as much time together once Signore Conti returns. But I decide to forget about Signore Conti and let myself fully enjoy these days while I have Carlo all to myself.

“Wait until you see the panorama from Castelmola. It will take your breath away.” Carlo steals a quick sideways glance toward me before he returns his attention to the twisting turns in the road.

“Carlo, you don't have to impress me with a new site every time we see each other. I would be content just enjoying your company.”

“I know. But it makes me happy to show you these places. Your eyes sparkle when you've discovered something new. I love seeing you this way.”

“You're too good to me. I still wonder sometimes if this is all real.”

“It is. And it will only get better. I promise you.”

Carlo parks the car, and we get out. I can make out the ruins of the medieval castle that once stood in this idyllic mountain village. Fragments of ancient ruins are strewn about the grounds. And Carlo was right about the views. The sea surrounds us from atop this hill, and as the sky gets darker, the lights begin to flicker on all around Castelmola.

“Let's go to one of the cafés. We can still enjoy the view from there.”

We sit down at one of the small tables outside a café that has a few other patrons. Many of the tourists are snapping away at the panorama with their cameras.

“Grappa, per favore.”
Carlo orders his favorite liquor.

“E per voi, signorina?”
The waitress asks me what I would like to order.

“Un bicchiere di vino della casa.”
I ask for the house wine.

“We should get something to eat, too. We haven't eaten since before we went swimming.”

We both order panini with prosciutto and
Provoletta
cheese. Then for dessert we have
Tetu,
which are clove-scented chocolate cookies. I love them so much that Carlo insists on buying more for me to take back home.

By the time we're done eating, night has fully taken over. Castelmola is aglow. Carlo has moved his chair next to mine. He wraps his arm around my shoulders as we continue taking in the serenity of the landscape.

“Stay with me tonight,” Carlo whispers in my ear.

My heart races.

“Nothing has to happen. I just want to hold you in my arms for the night and watch the sun rise with you on the beach in the morning.”

I cannot stop the smile that is slowly spreading across my face. I want to tell Carlo that I am ready to fully show my love to him. But how can I when neither of us has uttered the words “I love you” yet? Maybe tonight will be the night that I tell Carlo I am falling in love with him.

“I can think of nowhere else I would rather be than in your arms tonight, Carlo.” I hold his gaze. Without saying a word, Carlo stands and takes me by the hand. We make our way back to Carlo's car, descending through the sleepy hilltop town of Castelmola. The darkness that blankets us feels comforting.

After a short drive, we get out of the car and head over to the beach. Hand in hand, we stumble in the dark through the sand. The moon is hidden behind a thick covering of clouds tonight. I'm not even sure which beach we are at, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am with Carlo. As usual, he's come prepared for our outing and pulls a sheet out of his car trunk. I help him spread the sheet out onto the sand, close to where the waves break against the shore.

We lie down, and for a few minutes we just listen to the soothing sounds of the surf. Carlo turns his head toward me and kisses me, but nothing more. I feel myself drifting off to sleep, but I try to fight it off. It's no use. In Carlo's arms, my body completely melts. Just as I am falling asleep, Carlo whispers,
“Ti amo, Sarina. Ti amo molto.”

My eyes flash open. I am fully awake now.

“Amo anche te.”
I tell Carlo I also love him. Moving closer, I rest my head against his chest.
“Mi hai dato un amore magico.”

He holds me tightly. “No. It's you, Sarina, who has given me a magical love.”

La Marionetta

 

 

THE PUPPET

 

 

 

 

A
fter we spent the night on the beach, Carlo woke me up in time to watch the sun rise. We have now arrived at Villa Carlotta. It is about seven in the morning. We do our best to walk quietly among the pebbles strewn along the ground in the back of the Villa Carlotta.

“Get some rest. I have some work I need to take care of, but we can go to the piazza around noon if you'd like.” Carlo kisses me on the forehead.

“You should try to get some rest too. I will see you later.” I turn around to leave, but freeze in my tracks. Signore Conti is standing a few feet away, smoking a cigarette as he makes his way toward us. I'm too frightened to say anything.

“Papà, you're back.” Carlo's voice sounds faint.

“Where have you been, Carlo? I returned yesterday morning. No one knew where you were.”

“I took the day off.”

“How convenient, and on the day Sarina is off.” Signore Conti looks at me. Fury is in his red-rimmed eyes. What must he think of me now, seeing me return with Carlo so early in the morning?

“If you will both excuse me.” I nod my head in Signore Conti's direction and walk as quickly as possible to the back entrance of the hotel that leads to my room. Thankfully, Signore Conti doesn't demand I stay. I can hear heated whispers between him and Carlo.

Once in my room, I climb into bed, not bothering to take my sundress off. There is no way I can rest now. I'm afraid for Carlo. Because of me, he is now in trouble with his father. Though Signore Conti spared me, I know it was just a brief reprieve. I have no doubt he will confront me when he is ready to do so. He was more concerned with his son at the moment. Will he fire me? Where will I go? The gypsies left a few days ago. I went down to the beach looking for them, but all of their tents were gone. The man who rents umbrellas told me they had left the previous day. I was surprised since I thought they would stay until the end of August, especially since today is the national holiday of Ferragosto, and Taormina will be swarming with even more visitors and tourists. All the umbrella man could tell me was that they left in a hurry. He was convinced they had conned someone who didn't take lightly to being swindled and that they were forced to leave town as quickly as possible. I don't believe that they conned anyone. I never witnessed any of the gypsies intentionally swindle their clients. Still, it was odd that they left in such haste. When I discovered that Maria and her family had left, I felt alone. Although I have Carlo, I had come to think of the gypsies as my second family. Maria and Gianni had become surrogate parents to me. And of course, Isabella was like a little sister. Even her brother Tonio had struck up a friendship with me, and I felt like he was watching out for me as well. And whenever I was feeling sad and missing home, the gypsies' contagious happy nature had always managed to lift my spirits. It had felt nice belonging to their tight-knit clan. If only I could have said good-bye to them.

I sigh deeply. It's no use. I can't rest. Getting out of bed, I pace my room until I hear a knock at my door. My stomach twists in knots. It has to be Signore Conti. I open the door.

“Carlo! What are you doing here? If your father catches you,” I whisper to him, glancing nervously down the hall.

“Don't worry about him. I told him I couldn't sleep and went out for a walk along the beach and just happened to run into you on the way back.”

“And you think he believed you? Come on, Carlo!”

“He did tell me he wasn't stupid, but I refused to cower before him. Let him believe what he wants.”

“This isn't good, Carlo. He will probably fire me now.”

“There is no way you are going anywhere. He is making so much money with all the people who are coming to the restaurant to hear you sing. Before it was mostly the guests at the hotel dining at our restaurant, but word has gotten around Taormina of your beautiful voice, not to mention your gifted tarot card readings, so we have more locals visiting us too. We've never had the crowds we now have at the restaurant. My father loves money above all. He would be a fool to fire you.”

“Carlo, I think we need to consider that our seeing each other won't work. It's obvious your father doesn't approve by how angry he appeared earlier.”

“Shhh!” Carlo places his index finger on my lips. “Trust me. I told you he will come around. We just need to be patient.”

“But—”

“Stop worrying, Sarina. Now get some rest or else you'll be exhausted for work tonight.”

I nod my head. “You should go before he sees you.”

I begin to close my door, but Carlo stops me. He gives me a quick kiss on the lips and then leaves.

After shutting my door, I lean my back against it and take a deep breath. I want to trust that Carlo will be able to sway his father and convince him to accept us as a couple. But I cannot see how Signore Conti would ever accept me. I can tell that in his eyes I am nothing more than the hired help and a gypsy. Signore Conti has never even asked me about my background or my family. He doesn't care. While he has yet to utter a cross word to me, a few of the other employees have told me how he berates them on a regular basis. I keep wondering when it will be my turn to receive his scorn. And now that he suspects Carlo is romantically involved with me, it will just be a matter of time. I am certain of it.

 

After siesta, Gaetano and I are rehearsing for the night's performance when Signore Conti comes into the bar. I try to act absorbed in my singing and not let my voice betray my nervousness.

“Excuse me, Gaetano, Sarina.”

“Buonasera, Signore Conti.”
Gaetano greets Carlo's father. I merely nod my head, forcing a small smile to my lips. But I dare not meet his gaze.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but Sarina, I would like you to begin wearing this costume for your performances.” Signore Conti holds a bundle wrapped in tissue paper out to me.

A gift? He all but knows his son and I were coming back from a secret rendezvous, and he has a gift for me?

“Grazie, signore.”
I pull apart the folds of tissue paper and take out a traditional Sicilian folk costume in stunning hues of red, brown, and gold. The costume is gorgeous. I remember seeing photographs of my grandmother when she was younger. She wore a costume that looked very similar to this one.

“A few of the guests have been filling me in and have told me of your love of folk songs. I thought the costume would be perfect, not to mention the tourists love anything in relation to Sicilian culture.”

“You want her to dress up like a puppet!” Carlo's voice booms behind Signore Conti. His eyes are roiling with venom.
“Lei non è una marionetta!”

“Don't be silly, Carlo. I know she is not a marionette. Do you see strings attached to the back of this costume? Look at what an elaborate costume this is. Such intricate stitching and embroidery! She will look like one of the gypsies in town who wear Sicilian costumes. It's perfect since she reads tarot cards. People appreciate the authentic experience.”

“I know what you are doing, Papá. I will not have it.” Carlo storms over to me and tries to take the costume out of my hands, but I won't let it go.

“Carlo, it's all right. I do not mind wearing the costume. Your father is right. It is quite beautiful.” I try pleading with Carlo through my eyes, but to no avail.

“We don't need to parade Sarina to attract the tourists. She is already bringing in a large audience. People come to hear her sing and
not
because she is wearing a costume that heralds to the peasant days of Sicily. I know you don't want to disobey my father, Sarina, but you do not need to wear this costume.”

“Carlo, you are forgetting your place. I am the owner of Villa Carlotta, and, until I am dead, you and my staff will take orders from me. And people are not just coming to hear Sarina sing. They are also coming to hear their fortunes told. While the gowns I asked her to purchase are lovely, she does not look quite right in such glamorous dresses when she is reading the tarot cards. I did not think of it when I asked you to buy those gowns, Sarina. And like I said, this costume is especially perfect for when she sings her folk songs.”

“I will wear the costume, Signore Conti. Thank you. I will go try it on now.” I walk to my room before Carlo can try taking the costume from me once again. I hear something smash. Looking over my shoulder, I see a decanter of liquor in pieces by Signore Conti's feet.

“This is not over, Papá!” Carlo screams at his father before storming out.

“He's been under added stress with his responsibilities here as well as overseeing the construction of the new hotel in Enna. His mood will pass in no time.” Signore Conti gives a slight snicker as he says this to Gaetano, who is cleaning up the mess Carlo made.

I turn around and continue to my room. Once inside, I sob uncontrollably. Signore Conti was making a point by buying me this costume and insisting I wear it. He was showing Carlo and me that he rules here, and he was reminding us that I am not on their level.

Wiping my tears away, I put on the costume. I did mean it when I said it was beautiful. But I cannot help feeling ridiculous wearing it now that I know Carlo thinks I will look like
una marionetta
. Well, he did not exactly say that. He felt more that his father was using me as his instrument, as his puppet to lure tourists and guests to the hotel. But I cannot help feeling that Carlo was also trying to pull my strings in insisting that I not wear the costume rather than letting me handle the situation with his father on my own.

These past few weeks have been a fairy tale. But fairy tales are not real. Carlo and I have been living in a dream. I don't know what I was thinking allowing myself to fall in love with a rich man's son.