Stella Mia (36 page)

“His Alzheimer's has progressed quite rapidly in the past six months. It's been very difficult watching the man you love disappear. He hasn't lost all of his memories, but I know the day will come when he doesn't recognize me anymore. I try to stimulate his memory as much as possible by reminding him of the days when we first fell in love and of the time we spent together in Taormina and the Aeolian Islands. I tell him these stories over and over.” Sarina's gaze turns toward the beach. I look over and see she's watching Carlo, who's now sitting in a folding chair on the beach. Carlotta is positioning a beach umbrella over him. I look away. It is all so sad.

“Carlotta has been an angel, helping me care for him. I don't know what I would have done without her help these past few years.”

“Yes, you are very lucky to have her.”

“So that is my story, Julia. Now you know everything that has happened since I left you.”

“I'm sorry about Carlo, Sarina.”

Sarina flinches when she hears me call her by her first name. But she can't expect me to start calling her mother as if nothing has ever happened.

“Thank you, Julia. Has any of what I said helped you?” Sarina's eyes look hopeful. I know she really wants to ask me if I've forgiven her. But I don't know if I have, and even if I have, I'm not ready to tell her just yet.

“I want to be honest with you, especially since you and my father kept so much from me all these years. I'm sorry if what I'm going to say will hurt, but I must be honest.”

“Please, tell me the truth, Julia.”

“I do feel bad about what you have been through and how things turned out with Carlo. But I can't help feeling hurt that you chose him over me. You were going to come see me, but then when Carlo arrived on your doorstep, you changed your mind. You chose your old lover over your own child.”

“I was still planning on coming to see you, Julia. But then the next day, coincidentally, I received a letter from your father, telling me you had gotten married. That was the letter that contained your wedding photo. I saw how happy you were, and I couldn't help thinking that I was about to disrupt your peace and happiness by showing up after all these years. I realized my coming to see you was purely selfish because I wanted your forgiveness. But since I had chosen to stay away from you for all that time, I couldn't just now reappear and wreak havoc for you. If I truly cared about you and your well-being, I would accept that I could not be part of your life anymore. Carlotta was angry with me and tried to change my mind, but I wouldn't.

“I don't expect you to forgive me, Julia. Of course, I would be lying if I said I didn't want your forgiveness. I desperately do, but I know I have caused you so much pain. All I can hope for is that perhaps someday you might understand. When you get to be my age, Julia, you reflect over and over about your past and how you could have done things differently. You have clarity that you didn't have when you were younger. I realized just a few days ago that I have always run away when things got difficult. I ran away from my father; I ran away from Carlo; I ran from you and Paolo. So when Carlo reappeared in my life, I was through with running.

“I will never forgive myself for leaving you, Julia, but you have to believe I did plan on returning someday. I know that is little consolation. But you have to believe I always loved you. I can see all the hurt I have caused you, Julia. Seeing how much pain you are in, I now know I made a mistake in thinking you were better off without me all those years. And I realize I should have listened to Carlotta and come to see you five years ago. But I can't take back what I have done.”

“Did you ever love my father?”

Sarina looks surprised that I've asked her this question.

“I did.”

“But it was a different kind of love than what you share with Carlo.” I say this as a statement rather than a question for I know the answer.

Sarina nods her head.

“Carlo was my first love, and what is it they say? ‘You never forget your first love'? Well, that was true for me. I never forgot about him even when I was certain I would never see him again after I went to America. You read my diary, Julia. So you know how it was between Carlo and me. But I cared about your father. As I said earlier, he was a saint, and his kind heart endeared him to me. I wanted him to be happy, especially once I knew I wasn't returning. I even told him in a letter a few years after I left that he could file for divorce. Naturally, I wouldn't contest it, but for some reason he refused.” Sarina's face looks sad before she says, “I suppose it's because he always held hope I would return.”

“I think that is the reason why Daddy didn't file for divorce. And he never dated. I asked Aunt Donna when I was in my teens if there was anyone when I was a child. But she said there hadn't been.”

“I've hurt so many people who didn't deserve to be hurt—Carlo, your father, you.” Sarina's eyes fill with tears, but she manages to keep them at bay.

“I have one last question. Why didn't you ever tell Daddy that you had become famous?”

“I was ashamed, for I knew there would be no excuse for me not to return to you, now that I had the means and my family was fine. But I see how foolish that was of me. Like you said, Julia, even if I hadn't had the money, your father would have gladly paid for my ticket to return home.”

I don't say anything, and neither does Sarina. We sit in silence for a few minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts.

“So, Julia, what are your plans now? You're welcome to stay here if you like. I don't know how long you were planning on being in Sicily.”

Glancing down at my watch, I'm surprised to see how much time has passed since I arrived. “Thank you. I think I will stay just for the night since it's getting late, and I've had a long day. I have a hotel booked in Messina, so I'll head back there tomorrow. May I use the phone to let the hotel know I won't be arriving tonight?”

“Of course. There's one in the bedroom where you'll be sleeping. That's fine if you just want to stay for the night. No pressure.”

“Thank you. As for how long I'll be in Sicily, I don't know. I purchased a one-way ticket. I didn't want to be tied to a concrete date just in case . . .” I let my voice trail off as I realize what I'm about to say.

“Just in case you wanted to return home as soon as possible.” Sarina smiles, but I can tell it's forced.

“I'm sorry. I had no idea how things would turn out.”

Sarina holds up her hand. “It's all right, Julia. I understand. Well, I'll go get Adriana to set up your room. Excuse me.” Sarina gets up and crosses her arms across her chest as she walks slowly away.

“I might be mad at you, but I don't hate you.”

Sarina stops, but doesn't turn around immediately. When she does, there's a spark in her eyes. She merely nods her head before turning back around and walking away.

Rubbing my temples, I feel a headache coming on. I can't help wondering if this is a mistake. Maybe I should go back to my hotel? But I'm too exhausted—both from my long trip and the emotional drain of meeting Sarina and hearing everything she had to say.

Is this all really happening? I still can't believe I'm here in Sicily and in my mother's house. And my mother is a Sicilian star. How bizarre is that?

“Julia, your room is ready. Please follow me.” Adriana beckons me toward her with a wave.

My head is absolutely exploding now. No more pondering—at least for tonight. Hopefully, my dreams won't be filled with the anxiety I've been experiencing since I got on the plane to come here. And with that last thought, I follow Adriana to my room, having no idea what will be in store for me tomorrow—or how I'll feel.

A Daughter's Heartache

 

 

 

T
he sound of voices wakes me from a deep slumber. For a moment, I'm disoriented and not sure where I am. Sitting up in bed, I see the view from my bedroom window, and the sight of the beach reminds me I'm in Sicily—in my mother's home.

Getting out of bed, I hear the voices, louder now. They sound like they're coming from the room next to mine. I then hear singing. It's my mother's voice. Curious, I step out of my room and see there's only one room adjacent to mine. I walk quietly over to it. The door is slightly ajar. Peeking through the crack, I can make out Sarina sitting in a wooden chair that's placed alongside a bed. I stretch my neck a bit more and see she is holding a man's hands—Carlo's. Sarina is still in her nightgown, and her hair hangs down her back in a long braid. She's no longer singing. Carlo talks to her, but his voice is too low for me to hear. I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but I can't resist seeing them together. It's almost as if I feel I have a right to listen to their conversation since I read about their love in Sarina's diary. It's as if I'm reading the final chapters of their story.

“Remember when we dove into the waters off Panarea, Carlo? We had the cove to ourselves as we swam and floated on the water, staring at the sky, feeling the sun warming our skin. Remember?”

“I remember, Gemma. You weren't swimming. You hated the water.”

My heart drops as I hear Carlo call her Gemma.

“No, Carlo. Gemma was not there. It was me, Sarina. I loved to swim.”

“Ah! Sarina. My Sarina.
”

“Si!
Your Sarina.
”

My mother sounds relieved that he has remembered her. I feel guilty now for listening in on their private conversation and am about to walk away when I hear Carlo say, “I called you
stella mia
when we were in Panarea.”

Stopping in my tracks, I remember how Daddy said Sarina called me her
stella mia
. I then remember the scene from her diary when they were in Panarea, and Carlo called her that for the first time.

“Yes, Carlo. That's what you called me that day. I said, ‘It's so beautiful here.' And you said, ‘Not as beautiful as you,
stella mia.' ”

“That's right. What a gorgeous day that was.”

“Remember, Carlo, I told you about my daughter?”

I wait to hear Carlo's response, but nothing comes. He must not remember Sarina's telling him about me.

“That's all right. She's here! I will introduce you later.”

“We had a daughter? I thought you couldn't have children.”

I close my eyes, feeling for Sarina. Again, Carlo has confused her with Gemma.

“That was Gemma, Carlo. I lived in America and had a husband and a daughter.”

“No. That's not right. You were mine. You were always mine.” Carlo sounds hurt and angry.

I can't bear to listen anymore. I return to my room.

It must be torture for Sarina seeing Carlo deteriorate. Seeing him forgetting her and confusing her with his late wife. If that happened to Kyle, I think I would go mad.

There's a soft knock on my door. I answer it and see Carlotta is holding a tray containing a cup of espresso and a plate with a slice of frittata as well as a couple of cactus pears.

“
Ciao,
Julia. Did you sleep well? I brought you something to eat.”

“
Grazie,
Carlotta. You didn't need to do that. I could've eaten in the kitchen.”

“It's my pleasure. Besides, you can't leave Sicily until you have my
Frittata con Patate e Cipolle
. And please, call me Zia. I am, after all, your aunt.”

“All right.” For some reason, I don't feel strange calling Carlotta Zia even though I only met her yesterday.

Zia Carlotta steps into my room and places my tray on the dresser.

“Do you mind if I keep you company while you eat?” she asks me.

“No. You ate already?” I take the tray over to the bed and get in, propping up my pillows so that I'm seated and can eat my breakfast. Zia Carlotta remains standing, leaning against the dresser.

“
Si.
I wake up very early.”

I take a bite from the
Frittata con Patate e Cipolle,
or Omelet with Potatoes and Onions. My father also makes these at home, but I must say Carlotta's wins hands-down.

“This is so good!”

Carlotta smiles, obviously pleased by my enthusiasm for her cooking. “Do you have cactus pears in America?”

I nod my head. “We do, but they're hard to find even when they're in season.” I take a bite from one of the cactus pears, which Carlotta has already peeled and cut for me. “Wow! The cactus pears I've had in New York don't taste this sweet.”

“That is the fruit of Sicily. You must've noticed all the cactus pear plants on the way here?”

“I did.”

I take a sip of espresso. Again, I feel Zia Carlotta's eyes on me. Glancing up, I see she looks nervous.

“Have you decided if you will stay here?”

“I was planning on going to my hotel in Messina today.”

“I meant if you would stay in Sicily for a while longer? Sarina told me last night you bought only a one-way ticket.”

“I did. I thought about staying a week, but I don't know now.”

Carlotta comes over to my bed and sits on the edge.

“Julia, forgive me if I'm being forward, but please stay. You are a teacher, no?”

I nod my head, knowing where this is going.

“It is only July. I understand the schools in America don't resume for the new year until September. Why not stay until the end of August? Sarina would be so happy.”

“Oh, I don't know. I was thinking maybe just a week. You have to realize, Zia, this is a lot for me to handle. I'm still processing it all, and I don't even know yet how I feel toward my mother.”

Zia Carlotta takes my hand in hers.

“Julia, your mother hurt you, very much. I do not deny that. She had the world on her shoulders from when she was a child, caring for me and my brothers, and trying to ward off our father's temper. The way he beat her . . .” Zia Carlotta closes her eyes tightly as if she's trying to shut out the painful memories. “It was horrible. There were times I thought he would surely kill her. We all did. That's why we never blamed her when she ran away. And she married your father so young. She was forced to become an adult when she was still practically a child. But I know. There is no excuse for her not returning to you and staying away for so long. But please don't let her mistakes keep you separated now. Not when you've come this far. Get to know her. I believe it was fate that led you to find her diary and brought you here. Just as I believe it was fate that reunited her and Carlo. Julia, you will regret it if you leave now. You will always wonder if the two of you could have gotten past this. Maybe you won't. But shouldn't you at least give it a chance and see what happens? Please, don't be mad at me. I just care about you and my sister.
Ti voglio bene.
” Zia Carlotta strokes my cheek.

I'm touched by her telling me she loves me. And I'm torn. Throughout the night, I dreamt of nothing else but my mother. I woke up several times and kept asking myself if I should return home. But I don't want to feel pressured in the moment to make a decision.

I take Zia Carlotta's hand in mine. “I'm not mad. Thank you for caring so much. I just need some time to think. I'll let you know what I've decided after I eat and take a shower.”

“
Va bene.
I will let you get dressed. Let me know if you need anything.” Zia Carlotta kisses my cheek before leaving my room.

Sarina's singing reaches my ears again. The sound is soothing, but it also creates a deep sadness within me. It's the same sadness I've felt since I was a child and thought of my mother. Zia Carlotta is right. If I leave now, I will always wonder what could have happened between Sarina and me if I had stayed. This is my opportunity to finally get to know the mother who has been a stranger to me for so long. I can't lie to myself anymore. There is still the little girl inside of me who aches to have her mother's love.