Maria had only been to her house once after the fire—to retrieve her mother’s wedding dress. The thought of returning to the home she once shared with her family was almost too much to bear, and she had even considered not wearing her mother’s dress on her wedding day. But she wanted to have some connection to her family on her special day—to feel as if a part of them would be with her. So she’d mustered the emotional strength to go back.
The warehouse fire had been the catalyst that set off a chain of events in which more and more people Maria knew were either killed or imprisoned. They had lost a few of FAF’s members, which only increased Maria’s anxiety that Franco could be killed too. Then there were a few of Franco’s neighbors whom she never saw again—their whereabouts unknown. Even a few strangers whom she and Franco had temporarily given a safe haven in their apartment had met with a grim fate.
While her wedding hadn’t been a typical ceremony with lots of people in attendance, she hadn’t minded. After all, it wasn’t too long ago when she had thought she would never marry. Her only regret was that her family could not be present. She smiled as she remembered how Franco had surprised her with a small bouquet of white roses.
“Remember at our first dance, you were wearing that white silk rose in your gown, and then you placed it in your hair?” he had asked.
Of course Maria remembered, and she’d been immensely moved that he had also remembered what she’d been wearing the night of the dance.
“I wanted you to have white roses again to remember that day. When the war is over, I will buy you white roses all the time.”
Maria had taken one of the roses and placed it in her hair, above her ear, just as she’d done at the dance. And she’d held the bouquet during their wedding ceremony.
After their vows, they had a small celebration at FAF’s office. Later that night in bed, Maria had whispered to Franco, “You are my family now.”
“And you are mine.”
As Maria’s thoughts returned to the present, she wondered if she would ever feel ready to go back to her father’s house and possibly make it a home for herself, Franco, and Anabella. Could she ever erase the images of her house being vandalized—knowing her family members had been terrorized there—and the trail of blood that led outside, reminding her that those were the last steps her family had taken before being led to their deaths inside the warehouse? Franco had hired a woman to clean the house before Maria went to pick up her mother’s wedding dress. But the house no longer felt like her loving childhood home that she’d shared with Papà, Michele, and Enza. The Nazis had managed to tarnish a place that had once represented nothing but innocence and love to her.
Maria and Franco had conceived their daughter on that beautiful August day when they’d made love for the first time in the sunflower garden. But Maria hadn’t realized she was pregnant until November, shortly after her family was killed. Even during her pregnancy she had remained involved with her work for the Resistance, much to Franco’s disapproval. But the deaths of her family members had made her want revenge on the Nazis. She no longer feared for her own safety, and, while she didn’t want to jeopardize the life of her baby, she knew she would give up on her own life again as she had during those first few weeks after the fire if she wasn’t doing something to bring about justice for Papà, Michele, and Enza. In addition to writing the newspaper, she continued delivering food, ammunitions, and other supplies to the partisans, many of whom had gone to live in the mountains as they carried out their ambushes against the Germans. She had finally confessed to Franco about how she’d been delivering supplies to the partisans and had told him nothing he said could stop her from carrying out this work. She had been forced to stop during the last month of her pregnancy when she was too uncomfortable to get on her bicycle and ride for long stretches. And, of course, once Anabella was born, the baby needed her undivided attention. At least she was able to continue writing the paper. She no longer delivered it herself, but had other FAF members do so.
Anabella. How precious her baby was. She still couldn’t believe she was hers. When Maria broke the news that she was pregnant to Franco, he had picked her up and spun her around, only to realize he might be hurting her and quickly put her down, asking her to sit down. He was so excited, as was she. He began making plans for them and the baby. Franco and she couldn’t wait to know the sex of the baby, but not because either of them had a certain preference. They just couldn’t wait to meet the boy or girl who would be part of their family soon. Unlike most men she knew, Franco wasn’t adamant about having a boy to carry on his name and legacy. He just wanted the baby to be healthy and to be able to grow up in an Italy that was free of German occupation. When Anabella was born, Franco and Maria agreed that hers was the most beautiful face they had ever laid eyes on. They decided to name her Anabella: Ana in honor of Maria’s late mother, and Bella to acknowledge her beauty.
Maria was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the stairs of the apartment. Quickly, she placed Anabella back in her crib and grabbed the revolver Franco kept in the top drawer of his desk. Tiptoeing over to the door, she pressed her back against the wall and held her breath as she waited for whomever was about to cross the threshold. When she saw Franco step inside, she exhaled deeply.
“Thank God. You’re finally home.” Maria lowered the revolver to her side.
Franco walked over to her and took the revolver. He put it back in the desk drawer and then returned to Maria’s side, taking her in his arms.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here. It was driving me nuts when I didn’t spot the birdcage in the window each of the days I wanted to return home.”
“Where have you been sleeping?”
“What little sleep I got was either at the office or . . .” He stopped himself.
“Or where?”
“In the streets or deserted alleyways.”
“How could you stay out in the open?”
Franco shrugged his shoulders. He looked worried.
“What is it, Franco? Don’t keep anything from me. You promised not to.”
“I just haven’t felt as safe anymore at FAF’s office, not that I ever thought any place was truly safe.” His eyes met Maria’s, and they both knew they were thinking about her family home.
“It has to be safer than staying out on the street.”
“We’ve been talking about moving the office from the abandoned church. The Germans are getting more enraged after the recent successes the partisans have been having. Just look at how they keep searching homes in our neighborhood. It is a matter of time before they start searching abandoned places like the church. I’m even beginning to think it’s time we go live somewhere else.”
“Where? Who will take a couple and an infant?” Maria glanced over at Anabella, who was sleeping peacefully in her crib. Fear suddenly gripped her. What had she been thinking, being careless and letting herself get pregnant during wartime and with no guarantee about what the future would hold for them?
“Before you say no, Maria, please just listen to me.” Franco paused.
Maria noticed how tired he looked. He’d also lost weight. Then again, everyone was losing weight these days with the food rations that were diminishing each week.
“Go on.” She gently prodded him, placing her hand on his arm.
“I was thinking we should go stay at your house.”
Maria dropped her hand. She was about to adamantly refuse, but then remembered Franco’s request to hear him out.
“I know it’s difficult for you to go back there without your family, but Maria, the soldiers seem to not be searching the homes in your old neighborhood as much as they’ve been doing here.”
“You said yourself a moment ago that no place is truly safe. And, as we know, my family and most of the townspeople were not safe in their homes.”
“But that is the reason why homes aren’t being searched there as much anymore; the Germans know they wiped out
most of the residents.”
Maria grimaced.
“I’m sorry.” Franco took her in his arms. He stroked her back and kissed her temple before pulling away from her. He looked into her eyes.
“I am going crazy every day thinking about you alone here with the baby. And these past few days were the worst when I didn’t see that damn birdcage in the window.”
“Don’t say that. I love Lula.”
Franco laughed. “I love the parakeet too, but you know what I mean.”
Maria laughed, before growing somber once more. “Do you really think Anabella and I will be safer there?”
“I do. And this way, I can return home when I’m done with a mission rather than trawl the streets like a stray dog. But we must still use our trick of putting the birdcage in the window when I am away. We cannot be too careful.”
The thought of having Franco be able to return home as soon as he was done with his partisan work removed all hesitation from her mind about going to the house. And maybe the presence of a baby was what the house needed to rid Maria’s mind of the horrible images of what had transpired there. It would be nice to raise Anabella where Maria had been raised and with her family’s belongings so she could begin to teach her daughter about her ancestors. In time, the house would feel warm again with a child to bring laughter and cheer into it. Mamma and Papà would want Anabella to be there. Maria felt that in her heart.
“All right. We will go. I suppose we should leave as soon as possible.”
“Grazie, Maria. This already eases some of the load off my mind.”
Maria smiled and hugged him, but on the inside, she felt worried. She had never seen Franco look as anxious as he did today. Lately, he’d been assuring her that the Resistance would succeed and that an end was near. He’d felt confident with the recent strides the partisans had made. But naturally, no one would rest easy until the war was indeed truly over and the Germans were gone for good.
“Let me go say hello to my beautiful daughter.” Franco kissed Maria softly on the lips before walking over to Anabella’s crib. “Ah, she is awake.” He picked her up and rocked her gently as he spoke to her. “I’ve missed you so much. Today, we are going somewhere much bigger than this tiny apartment. And you will have a beautiful yard to play in.” But as soon as Franco uttered these last words, he looked at Maria, fear evident in his eyes, and said, “You can take her out for a little fresh air, but don’t stay out for too long.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be very careful when you’re not with us.”
Maria thought back to that first day when she’d found Franco crouched low in her father’s sunflower garden and how he had warned her to not go out there alone. No, for the time being, she would not take Anabella outside, even just for a few minutes. There would be time for Anabella to enjoy the outdoors—once this war was over.
* * *
Once they moved into her family’s house, Maria had been busy, which helped keep her mind off the ugly events that had transpired there last year. She had taken whatever fabric she could find from clothes that had belonged to Papà, Michele, and Enza and made new curtains for the house. She even made slipcovers for the couch and chairs in the living room and rearranged the furniture. Franco had not asked her what she was doing, for it was obvious she was attempting to make the house look and feel different from when she and her family had lived there.
Thankfully, Anabella was a good sleeper, allowing Maria to get much work done. Anabella was still too young to take on the bicycle, and, of course, it was unsafe. Franco also didn’t want any members of FAF going to his and Maria’s house in case they were followed. As he reminded Maria, they had made this move to be safer.
Maria was finishing up sewing the last of her curtains on her machine when Franco came home. She tried to keep the tension she’d been feeling all day out of her voice as he greeted her. For he would be leaving before dawn tomorrow for a mission that would prevent him from returning home for at least several nights or more. Maria had asked him not to tell her what it was. Although she had made him promise never to keep anything from her, she had decided once they moved that she didn’t want to know any longer about the missions. It would just make her more fraught with worry while he was away. She needed to keep her wits about her, especially now that she had a baby to protect.
“Ciao, Franco! I’ve prepared a special dinner for you.” She stood up and went over to Franco, and they embraced.
They had fallen into the routine of hugging each other every day, before he left home and when he returned. Each day, the embrace seemed to last longer. Some days, Maria wanted to beg him not to leave them. She had even been tempted to plead with him to give up the Resistance work. But just as she’d refused to give up her partisan work months ago, she knew he would not turn his back on the organization. And, as he’d told her after Anabella was born, he was now also fighting to ensure Anabella’s freedom and future.
“Hmmm . . . I can smell your wonderful cooking. What did you make?”
“It’s just pasta with cannellini beans.” Maria could not hide the sadness in her voice. She wished she could’ve made a more elaborate dish for Franco tonight. But she had to do the best she could with whatever food rations were doled out. The food she and Enza had preserved was just about gone. If the Germans hadn’t broken the jars of preserved food in the refrigerator, Maria would’ve been able to stretch it longer.
“I cannot wait.” He smiled.
Later that night, Franco and Maria lay in bed with baby Anabella nestled in the middle of them. It had been Maria’s idea to keep Anabella with them throughout the night. Surely, they would be together again in a few days or weeks at the most. But for tonight, she wanted to feel the presence of her family with her. Sleep eluded Maria, and, from Franco’s deep sighs every few minutes, she could tell he was also having a hard time falling asleep.
“You should try to sleep. Who knows when you will be able to sleep once you’re out in the field.”
“I know, but I just can’t. It’s all right. I like being fully present in this moment, feeling the warmth of my wife and my baby lying next to me.”
“If only we weren’t at war . . .” Maria left her thoughts unexpressed. It was too painful to voice aloud her fantasies of their living during peacetime, without the dark cloud of war hanging over them. True, the war couldn’t last forever. But would they be victorious at the end? Or would they continue to live under occupation with no dreams for the future?
“You must not lose hope, Maria, whatever happens. You must not lose hope for Anabella’s sake. Promise me that.” Franco looked into Maria’s eyes.
Though she tried to fight her tears back, she couldn’t. With each day that the war dragged on, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be stoic and show a strong front to Franco. Terror had filled her heart ever since her family was killed and ever since Franco had become more involved in the dangerous aspects of the Resistance.
“I promise,” Maria said in a choked voice.
Franco whispered, “Don’t cry, Maria. I will always be with you. Right here. Just as you and Anabella will always be with me right here.” He pressed one hand to her heart and the other to his heart.
“I just can’t bear the thought of you sleeping in some trench alone.”
“I won’t be alone. The other partisans will be with me as well as Sacco.”
“Who’s that?”
“He’s a stray dog we found. Well, he actually found us. He came over to us whimpering and has not left our sides. He curls up next to the partisans in the dugouts. So you have nothing to worry about.”
Maria couldn’t help giggling softly. The thought of a sweet dog keeping her husband company made her feel a bit better.
Franco leaned over and kissed Maria. She broke the kiss and sat up in bed, picking Anabella up carefully. She placed her back in her crib and returned to bed. She and Franco resumed their kiss and soon made love. It felt very similar to the first time they had made love
in the sunflower garden behind the house, fraught with immense energy. Afterward, they rested in each other’s arms, finally falling asleep. But in the middle of the night, Franco woke Maria up and made love to her again. She ingrained in her mind every nuance of their lovemaking—the feel of each of Franco’s kisses . . . the warmth emanating from his hands as they traveled the length of her body . . . the pleasant sensations that reverberated throughout her . . . the all-encompassing love she felt for her husband and the father of her child.
When they were done, Maria glanced at the clock on her night table. In less than two hours, Franco would need to wake up and leave. She went over to Anabella’s crib and brought her back to bed. Maria nestled the baby between them once more. Franco kept his arm wrapped over his child and wife. He soon fell asleep. Though Maria was tired, she fought off sleep so she could watch the faces of the two people she loved most in the world.
Maria woke up with a start. A sound had awakened her. The sun was shining brightly through the gap in her window where she hadn’t fully drawn the shade down. She looked to her side and saw Franco was gone. She frowned. Maybe it had been too painful for him to wake her up and say good-bye. She had noticed lately it seemed harder for him to take his leave of them.
Anabella was no longer in the bed. Franco must’ve returned her to her crib. Maria could hear her cooing. Maria got out of bed and walked over to the crib and picked Anabella up. She then made her way to the kitchen. But when she reached the bottom of the steps, her heart stopped as she noticed the front door was wide-open. She then saw Franco’s eyeglasses on the floor. The lenses were shattered. Suddenly, she remembered the strange noise that had awakened her. She realized now it had been the front door being opened. Her heart pounded.
Maria ran back upstairs and grabbed an old picnic basket from the linen closet outside the bathroom. She placed the baby inside, grateful that Anabella wasn’t crying. She placed a few rolled up towels on either side of Anabella to ensure that she remained nestled snugly in the basket. She then placed it at the back of a shelf in the armoire in her father’s bedroom.
The Sunflower Girl Page 26