Catarina's Ring

by Lisa McGuinness

  “The bar lock looks good, but I’ll stop by tomorrow to repair the dead bolt so you can use it until you get a new door. As long as you have your dead bolt thrown, it should be fine. See how they busted the jam?” he asked and pointed to the splintered wood.

  “It feels creepy knowing people just barged right in.”

  “Call me if you need me, ok? And, if you get freaked out, you could always borrow one of my parents’ dogs for a while. Or, hey, all three of them.” He smiled and kissed her on the cheek and then headed to his truck.

  “Wait!” Juliette yelled. “Which one barks the most?”

  “Lily, why? Do you want me to get her?”

  “Do you think your parents would mind?”

  “Not at all. And Lily loves an adventure. I’ll go pick her up and be right back.”

  “Thank you,” she said, liking the idea of Lily being there with her.

  As he drove away, she sighed. Then she went inside, washed her face, made a cup of tea, and waited while Ian went to get her temporary sleeping companion.

  Chapter 29

  CATARINA, A DEEP, DEEP SLEEP AND VINE-COVERED HILLS

  In spite of the fact that it was summer, it had been cold and drizzly since Catarina heard the news that her brother was dead. It was exactly as it should have been, in her opinion.

  She put baby Mateo in the pram and strolled to her in-laws’ house most mornings since she had gotten the news. In her depressed state, every task, from changing the baby’s diapers to feeding him, seemed to be insurmountably difficult.

  Franco’s mother kept up a steady stream of chatter in an attempt to pull her daughter-in-law out of her overwhelming sadness. Catarina responded to her questions and listened, but Isabella could see that the sparkle was missing from her daughter-in-law’s eyes.

  When the second week slipped into the third, Isabella decided it was time to do something a little bit more drastic, so when Catarina arrived with Mateo, she stopped the two at the doorstep and took the pram handle from Catarina.

  “Listen to me,” she said, wheeling the stroller back and forth, but not inviting Catarina in. “I used to hear the saying ‘life is for the living’ and I thought pfft, what a stupid thing to say. But, in this case,” she paused, “I think it is exactly what I need to say to you. So, today I’m taking Mateo, and I’m sending you home. You just fed him, right? He’ll be fine for a few hours without you. Go home, pick up a paintbrush and start to paint again. You can’t stop living your life because your brother had to stop living his.”

  “I’m living my life. What are you talking about? It’s . . . ”

  Isabella held up her hand to stop Catarina from saying more.

  “I’m your mother-in-law and you will do what I say. Go home. Paint. And listen to me. This is what my mother said to me before she passed: she said, ‘Isabella, have lots of good adventures, be happy, and live your life, and then when you get to heaven, you can tell me all about it.’ She didn’t want me to ruin my only chance to have fun while I’m here.”

  Catarina’s eyes welled up but she nodded. “Va bene,” she said and kissed Mateo goodbye. “I’ll be back for you soon,” she whispered.

  “Not a minute before four,” Isabelle said with a stern look.

  “I understand,” she acquiesced and turned to trudge back home. Catarina dearly wished she could mourn with her parents and sisters. She thought of them living in the barn at her aunt’s farm waiting out the war, their own vineyard abandoned for now.

  But when she got back to her apartment, she didn’t pick up a paintbrush. Instead she climbed back into her unmade bed and went to sleep. The blankets were heavy and she dozed off immediately. The cocoon of oblivion felt good. She woke briefly after an hour, rolled over, and went back to sleep. It was as if the more she slept the wearier she became. Rolling over and catching sight of the clock again at 1:13, she let herself sink back to sleep for another half hour. Finally, she forced herself to get up and splashed water on her face. She brushed her teeth and hair, looking in the mirror.

  “Oh Mateo,” she said aloud.

  She could almost see him waiting for her with laughter in his eyes when she emerged from the Carlucci’s front door on market day. She saw him waving goodbye to her from the dock as the ship gradually pulled away. It was the last time she had laid eyes on her brother, and she could feel the tears on her cheeks yet again. The supply never seemed to end. But this time, she tried to focus on a happy memory of him, so she could keep him alive in her mind instead of dwelling on the fact that he was gone.

  She splashed cool water on her face again and pulled herself together before she left her apartment to retrieve Mateo.

  Stopping at the market, she picked up some flowers for herself and for Isabella.

  “Thank you,” she said and handed the flowers to her when she opened the door.

  “You look a little better maybe,” she said, patting her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “Come in and I’ll put these in some water. Let’s have some coffee.”

  She and the baby were back home and she was rolling pasta sheets when Franco got back from work. He picked up Mateo and twirled him and then gave his wife a kiss on the lips.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said.

  She looked up from her rolling pin. “What kind of surprise?” she felt her heart lift a little bit at the prospect of something exciting.

  “A weekend away. There’s a town I’ve heard about that I think will remind you of Italy. I got the entire weekend and Monday off from work, and we’re going to take the train in the morning.”

  “Where? And what about the baby?” she looked over at their son.

  “The town’s called Napa, and we’ll bring him. It will be sunny and warm. I think you’ll love it there. There are vineyards, hills, and hot weather. We’ll find a hotel to stay in. Come on, a change of scene will do you good.”

  “You don’t need to coax me,” she smiled at her husband, in what felt like the first time in a long, long time. “It sounds wonderful already.”

  “Do you remember the last time we took a train?” he asked.

  “I’ll never forget. It’s when I started to fall in love with you,” she said matter-of-factly, but hearing the words was music to his ears. He had been hit hard the second she had walked through the door at Ellis Island in New York, even though she was dirty and exhausted. He had recognized her the second she stepped into the sunlight and his chest had immediately tightened at the realization that the young girl who had captured his imagination had truly come to marry him.

  Now, more than two years later, they were on another train, with their infant son between them.

  Even before the train reached the station, Catarina could feel the pent-up emotion in her chest loosen further. Franco had been right, seeing the open sky and the hillsides covered in vines gave her the nostalgic feeling of returning to Italy. She hadn’t known all this existed just a short trip from San Francisco. Not long after they boarded the train, fog had given way to sunshine, and then, as they traveled northeast, the air warmed. By the time they stepped onto the train platform less than an hour later in Napa, she had to take off her sweater and remove an extra blanket she’d wrapped around Mateo. It felt good to be hot for a change.

  Catarina breathed in the heavy, warm air scented with the essence of dirt, ripe grapes, and roses that were planted at the ends of the rows of vines. She paused, closed her eyes, and inhaled again to pull every last trace of the familiar fragrance into her lungs. She wanted to seal it inside her body so she could bring it back to the city at the end of the weekend.

  They gathered their bags and then walked two short blocks to a hotel Franco had heard about. Catarina wished she had her paints and canvas with her. She would have loved to stand outside and paint what she actually saw rather than try to paint memories. The realization that she could grow as a painter here seeped into her mind. The subject that interested her most was painting outdoor landscapes, but in San Francisco she was too lim
ited by buildings when what she longed for were open green spaces.

  When they reached their room, Franco threw open windows to let in the fresh, hot air. Catarina set the sleeping Mateo on the bed.

  “We should have brought his sleeping basket,” she said.

  “Don’t worry,” Franco said, “I have a plan.”

  He removed a deep drawer from a dresser in the corner of the room and placed a pillow from the bed inside. He set it by the side of the bed, and turned to his wife.”

  “Fantastico!” she laughed. “You are a genius.”

  “Grazie,” he smiled and then wrapped his arms around his wife. “I have another surprise, too.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a town a little further north that has a hot spring. We’re going to buy bathing costumes and bathe in the mineral waters. I’ve heard it’s very hot and that if you soak in it, you are guaranteed to stay healthy.”

  “What is mineral water? I don’t know that I like the sound of it. It sounds dirty and brown.”

  “I’m not exactly sure, to be honest, but I think it’s just hot water like a bath. We’re going to love it.”

  “What will we do with Mateo?”

  “We’ll take turns with him. There is a time for the men to bathe and a time for the women to bathe. And there’s a room with chairs and a fireplace where people can wait while their companions go in the water.”

  “How do you know about this?”

  “From a customer at the shop. He said we’ll love it. That it’s just the thing.”

  Catarina couldn’t imagine it and wasn’t sure what “just the thing” meant exactly, but the next morning, after spending an afternoon and evening strolling and looking into the shops in Napa and reveling in the pleasure of a warm summer evening, they boarded the train to go to Calistoga.

  The scenery on the short trip was beautiful and lush and when they left the train they found themselves in a tiny town, with very few shops. Fortunately one of them had clothes and textiles for men and women, where they were each able to purchase a bathing costume. Catarina wasn’t used to showing her legs and laughed at how silly she felt.

  “It will be like going into the bath wearing my dressing gown,” she said.

  Franco laughed at his, too. “You’ll still look beautiful,” he said.

  When they arrived at Pacheteau Baths, it was exactly as Franco had heard. They bought tickets at a white stucco building that was surrounded by cottages for guests who were staying the night. They walked across the garden to a walled pool.

  When they passed through the gate Catarina gasped. “It’s larger than our kitchen garden in Italy,” she whispered to Franco. “I was expecting a large bath tub, but this is like a small pond!”

  He was also stunned. “It must be at least fifteen meters across!” he whispered back.

  In the water, women and girls of all ages frolicked and chatted. One end was extremely shallow, like entering the water from a beach, so Catarina passed the baby to Franco and gingerly waded in.

  When her feet were completely submerged she turned to smile at him, “It’s hot! It’s wonderful, meravigliosa!

  “Va bene,” he smiled. “I’ll be in there with Mateo,” he nodded toward a large open room with a fireplace and couches that opened onto the pool area, “but don’t go in too far. I don’t want you to sink.”

  “I promise. I’ll stay where I can stand. Oh Franco, you’re going to love it.” She said, wiggling her toes in the warm, silky water, and wading in further. Once she was up to her knees she decided to lie down. The water smelled vaguely earthy, but looked perfectly clear. She felt buoyant, so she ventured a bit deeper, but she sank under the water, so she moved back to where she could lie in the water, with her head out.

  She tilted her head back so her ears were submerged. She could hear her heart beating and her own breathing. She stared up at the incredibly blue sky and for the first time since she left Perdifumo to begin her trip to marry Franco, she felt like she was where she belonged. She had come to love San Francisco, her husband, and her new family, but this new place, with the sunshine, hot air, and vine-covered hills, felt right.

  She swayed her arms back and forth in the water and thought about her parents. The farm would be left abandoned until the end of the war. Her brother was gone, and she couldn’t even visit until the fighting ended. They were so far away, but she was desperate to be with them again.

  Right then, she decided that she would coax them to come here. They could live here in the Napa Valley. They could buy a small house and some land, and her parents could grow grapes and olives just like they did at home. Her sisters and their husbands could have the farm in Italy, if there was anything left when the family returned home. But Catarina resolved right then to send for her parents.

  And we can visit them on the weekends,” Catarina explained to Franco later that afternoon, after he had taken his turn with the men bathing, while Catarina dried off and played with Mateo in front of the fire. She felt relaxed and warm deep into her core. They lay a sleepy Mateo on a blanket on the lawn near the pool while they played a new game called shuffleboard.

  She felt the warm sun on her arms while she pushed the puck along with the cue. She missed the number she was aiming for by a considerable distance and sighed.

  “I’m not very good at this,” she shook her head.

  “Apparently I’m not either,” Franco said, making a face, when his puck also missed the mark.

  “Do you think we could get them to come? If we could get the visas and sponsor them?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. But, if you’re willing to try it, I’ll write to them. Losing Mateo has been a terrible blow—especially to Babbo, since Mateo was his only son.”

  “My father can write, too.” Franco said, pushing another puck along.

  “I think they would love it here.”

  “I’m amazed we never came to Napa when I was a boy.” Franco looked around. “I would like our children to have time away from the fog of the city. Maybe we could save up and buy a little house here whether we can get your parents to come or not. Then the kids could have the outdoors to run around like we did when we were children.”

  “Kids? Franco, we only have one so far,” she smiled at her sleepy boy and bent down to kiss his plump cheek.

  He put down the shuffleboard stick and wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her.

  “One so far, but I’m sure there will be more, no?”

  Catarina chuckled and kissed her husband back.

  “And I could paint landscapes here, too. I could stand in the fields and paint what I see instead of what I remember.”

  “It sounds good.”

  “It does,” she nodded.

  Franco had been right to bring her there. She felt refreshed. Bathing in the warm, silky mineral water had been restorative. Between having the baby and Mateo dying, she had been focused on getting through each moment of her day. She had not been able to think about the future. Now she became determined to bring her parents to her. They would love this place and after everything they’d been through since she’d left, she was sure that they could heal here in a way that they may not have been able to at home.

  Chapter 30

  JULIETTE’S FIRST CUSTOMER AND AN UNEXPECTED COOKING-CLASS STUDENT

  The final preparations for the opening of Gusto kept Juliette too busy to think about her woes. Appliances were in place, the painting was complete, the floor tiles were gleaming and she was down to placing tables, chairs, lights, and putting the finishing touches on the patio. She had even set an opening date, created a website, blanketed the city with flyers, placed ads for her first group of cooking students, and had a mostly full class signed up. She gave notice at her temporary coffee-house job with a promise to invite everyone to the opening.

  Juliette was practically living at Gusto and came home only to fall into bed, so she had long since returned Lily to Ian’s family, but missed her happy companions
hip. Now, after going full tilt, by the time she got back to her studio she was so tired she couldn’t worry about being afraid to sleep.

  She hired two cooks, two counter helpers, and four servers, all whom came in to help with the final preparations.

  The day before Gusto was due to open, she threw a party for her friends and family to help her celebrate. Ian and Mark were there earlier in the day to finish up the last details, helping her to hang art and arrange the tables, and then they were gone. She knew she would miss their presence in her daily life, but at least they’d be there that evening. She pushed the thought of missing Ian especially to the back of her mind, and forced herself to focus on the thousands of tasks she had still to do.

  The guests arrived and the champagne flowed freely all evening. The patio lights were on and the inside décor looked even better than she could have hoped. She had bought a long, high table that separated the entry from the rest of the room and she put the huge urn she lugged home from Lucca on one end and filled it with olive branches. It looked perfect paired with the large landscape that Catarina had once painted, gracing the biggest of the brick walls.

  Juliette absentmindedly twisted the bare finger where her ring used to rest. Weeks had passed and there was still no sign of it. She had finally accepted that it was gone forever. But the life lessons aren’t gone, she reminded herself. Chase your dreams. Choose happiness. That’s what her mom and Nonna would both say today. She hoped they would be proud.

  She caught sight of Ian from across the room and gave him a smile. She felt sparkling tonight. Her hair was down and wavy and she was wearing a dress she’d bought just for the occasion. For once he wasn’t seeing her covered in dust or flecks of paint or up to her elbows in the food she was preparing.

  Juliette circulated the room, filling glasses until she approached him.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she smiled. “You clean up well yourself.”