by Maria Herren
"Jeans won't cut it tonight?"
''No. It's not quite that casual. This would be pretty," Simone said, holding up a dress in a soft floral print. "It's attractive but not flashy, doesn't expose too much skin, but very sexy with that slit in the back. Perfect. Carlo is going to love seeing you in this!"
"Would you stop, already, about Carlo? Last night I told the man that I've been in love with all my life that I loved him, and he apparently doesn't feel the same about me. I'm not looking for a relationship. I don't even want a casual date. I'm just going to hang with the girls and enjoy the rest of my time here with you and Vincenzo, licking my wounds in private. Do you understand me?"
"I get it. Don't worry, I really get it," Simone said, gently. "I'm just thinking that Carlo could be a wonderful distraction for your broken heart."
Charly sighed loudly. It was clear that there was no stopping Simone. "What are we having for dinner?" she asked, changing the topic to one that made her happy. That's exactly when Simone knew that she was beginning to feel better.
⇼
They spent the next few days walking all over Rome. From the Trevi Fountain to the Spanish Steps to the Pantheon and the Coliseum. They were floored by the history and the beauty of the city. And the food. They broke up the walking with stops for snacks that invariably turned into meals. It was just too good to quit eating. The antipasto trays were fresh with meats and cheeses, bread and olives. There was fresh asparagus and artichoke hearts, grilled with garlic and exquisite olive oil. The chefs at the small Trattoria's where they would stop were delighted by the appreciation their food received. With the exception of her broken heart, Charly was having the best time of her life.
Simone and Vincenzo were staying at the Cabrera's home, which was only one street from Charly's hotel. Silvia and David Cabrera were delighted to have their son home and were quickly getting to know their daughter-in-law. By the end of the week they'd all fallen into a pattern of sharing breakfast together. Gradually the Cabrera's with Simone and Vincenzo had begun arriving earlier and earlier.
"Generally we allow our guests to sleep, but Simone has told us how very much you love to see the sun rise," Silvia Cabrera said, signaling the waiter for more espresso.
Charly's head was still a little heavy from the pleasure of her pillow. She was gulping eagerly at the unforgiving caffeine when Silvia's words reached her brain. I'm going to kill Simone, she thought, taking another scalding drink.
"Simone told you that I like to see the sun rise?" she asked, sweetly.
Davide and Silvia nodded. Vincenzo was grinning into the bottom of his cup. "Well, she does know me pretty well," Charly smiled.
"Here comes the sun!" Simone exclaimed. "Isn't that gorgeous?" she gushed, pointing out the long windows. "Let's move out to the veranda," she suggested. They did, and even Charly had to admit it was a breathtaking sight.
"What are we doing, after this?" Charly asked. "Maybe I can go back to bed?"
"Haven't you packed?" Silvia asked with concern.
"I meant to tell you, Charly, but I forgot. We're going to the Carruci's home in Sicily for the weekend. What do you have that's clean?" Simone asked.
The flight to Sicily took just an hour. It was a small plane and the pilot hadn't been in a hurry to leave on time. He'd sat sipping his espresso at the breakfast bar and they left when he was ready.
Forty five minutes into the flight he cut the engines and idled slowly forward. "We're almost there!" Silvia smiled. "Look out the window!" The island of Sicily floated into view. Craggy dark mountains surrounded at their peaks with lazy white clouds. Patches of vivid green stood out sharply against the mountainside, all set off by the deep blue of the Mediterranean. A few passengers migrated over from the other side to look out the windows. In every language the reaction was the same. The pilot cruised slowly over the beach of Mondello, then turned the plane and drifted back to give the other side of the plane the same view as the first side. Then with a waggle of his wings he kicked the engine back up.
"The Sicilians are very proud of their island," Davide announced. "Whenever the weather is clear like today and the pilot is in a good mood, the flight takes longer!"
"It's like the most perfect postcard picture!" Charly said, with appreciation.
"This is going to be so much fun!" Simone said, clutching Vincenzo's arm.
The airport was on the top of the tallest mountain in Sicily. They circled for quite awhile. ''Not a good time to land, yet," the pilot explained, loudly. "There's too much wind. We don't want to get blown over the side."
Simone and Charly swallowed, tightly.
The pilot saw their nervousness and smiled.
⇼
The airport was remarkably unsophisticated, particularly by comparison to the Da Vinci airport in Rome. Three men with name tags stood close together, each smoking a cigarette. Their voices got louder and they were gesturing at the mounded luggage from the plane that was on a large cart outside the building.
"What are they saying?" Simone asked Vincenzo.
"They all seem to think that they brought the cart over to the building the last time. We all wait while they decide whose turn it is. This is Sicily!"
Eventually the three men walked over together and rolled the luggage cart into the waiting area.
There was a car waiting for them. The driver ceremoniously tipped his cap to the women as he opened the doors. "We are going to the Carruci's home in Palermo to unpack and to sleep," Silvia explained. "The party tonight will be in their house at San Vito Lo Capo. It's very beautiful and right on the beach. It's a nice place to watch the sunrise," she finished, looking quickly at Charly with a sparkle in her eyes.
Does the woman miss nothing? Charly asked herself.
⇼
The honking of horns and screeching of brakes heralded their arrival in Palermo. The car they were in was several times larger than most of the other cars on the road and the driver took supreme advantage of his size. Simone gulped when they approached an intersection with no noticeable cessation in speed. There was a heavy laying on of horns while they glided through the intersection.
Not soon enough for Charly and Simone the driver pulled in front of a tall stone building. "Here in Sicily most everyone lives in what you'd call a flat," Davide explained. "The Carruci's own the top two floors of this building."
Silvia spoke into the ci'telfono and announced her name to the voice on the other end. The large wooden door opened and they all swept in together.
The driver sat for a moment, taking up too much space on the narrow road. He took the time to kiss his fingertips and throw a kiss to the closed door. "Such very beautiful women!" he sighed, driving away.
⇼
The elevator stopped so abruptly that Charly felt her brain hit the top of her head. "They're still working on their home. The elevator doesn't go all the way up. From here we take the stairs," Silvia explained.
It was still several hours from noon but the stairwell held a stifling heat. Charly took in the pallor of Simone's face and asked, "How far up do we have to go?"
"Non troppo," Davide said. "It is not too far," he said, sympathetically, looking at Simone.
"The air is cool in their home!" Silvia said, encouragingly. "Go quick, daughter!" She held Simone's hand in hers and rang the bell. "II bagno, adesso!" she commanded to the surprised servant who opened the door. "Non preoccupare!" she yelled back over her shoulder. "It is nothing! Just the heat! Per favore, bring me some ice, subito!"
There was no arguing with Silvia. "Poor one. Poor little one," she murmured to Simone, bathing her wrists and face with cool water. The servant handed in a silver bucket full of ice and Silvia pressed them against Simone's cheeks.
"That feels so much better," Simone said, gratefully. "Thank you, Mrs. Cabrera."
"You are too formal, daughter. Please, call me Mama Silvia. You, too, Charly."
⇼
Charly pulled the curtains shut and watched Mama Silvia put S
imone to bed. She stroked her forehead and then kissed her softly on the cheek. Simone snuggled into the pillow. Silvia took Charly's arm and led her into the kitchen. "Molto bene. A little espresso is left. Would you join me?" Silvia asked.
"Yes, I'd like just a little. Thank you," Charly responded, politely.
"Va bene. Soltante un poco," Silvia said, filling the espresso cup. "It is a very small cup," she added. She took a seat opposite Charly and looked out at the busy city of Palermo through a wall of glass. "It is a very nice view, don't you think?"
The street was gorged with traffic. As high as they were the traffic was inaudible. One car raced through a red light and blocked the intersection. "It's the same every day. Here we don't obey the traffic laws like you do in America."
"I've noticed that!" Charly laughed. "Why not?"
"For many reasons, I think," Silvia explained. "Our Carabinieri, the police, are not respected. Also, the price of the fines is constantly changing so no one believes the price they're asked to pay. Too many cars, small streets..." she shrugged her shoulders. "There are many things in life that are more important, we think. Also, we are excellent drivers!"
They both laughed and Silvia locked her wide gray eyes on Charly, suddenly very serious. "I don't want to upset my daughter, Charly, but why are her parents not here?"
Charly was uncomfortable with the question. "They're unhappy with the pregnancy. They had expected for Simone to finish at the University before she considered marriage. And not to someone from a different country," she answered, honestly. "They're not speaking to each other right now."
"That is really very sad," Silvia murmured. "I prefer to think of it as a joyous occasion." She shrugged. "Most of my friends only suspect that there is a baby," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "They'll find out soon enough. It is really no one else's business except for Simone and Vincenzo’s. And they are happy with it, so we will all be happy with them. My son has chosen a wonderful wife and I am going to love their baby."
"Is it really that simple for you?" Charly asked. "All of your friends are going to wonder and talk about it. Won't it embarrass you?"
"My dearest friends already know," Silvia said, simply. "It's life. And we are given this opportunity to welcome a life. This baby will know so much love, with such wonderful parents. This one will be a marvelous baby. And it is my first grandchild, so I am truly very happy. I choose to be happy. It is always a choice."
"Really?" Charly asked. "I've never thought of it that way. I'm mostly happy, sometimes sad."
"In this moment, you're very sad," Silvia said.
"That's not true!" Charly snapped.
The two women stared at each other. "You're right," Charly acknowledged. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You didn't do anything," Charly said.
"I'm sorry that you're hurting, regardless of who did it. I am sorry that it happened. I don't like for people to hurt and be sad inside."
"It's not your business," Charly said, as gently as possible, reaching forward and taking Silvia's hand.
Silvia's hand was firm and her eyes were wide with understanding. "Love can do so much damage. It's the young American boy, Eric, yes?"
Charly started to cry. "It was my own stupid decision that has me feeling so sorry for myself," she sobbed.
"Have you loved him for a long time?'' Silvia asked.
"Yes. Since the first time I saw him when I was nine years old. There's never been anyone but him since that day. That's what I thought, all of these years. Now I find out that he doesn't love me, at least not the way that I love him. I feel like such an idiot," she finished with a hiccup, dabbing at her eyes with the napkin.
"I know that it is a very painful experience," Silvia said, reaching out to touch Charly's shoulder. "I remember what it is like to be young and in love. It is his loss. And it is a big loss. You are a wonderful young woman. You can see the character of a person by the friends that they have, and you've made some wonderful friends. For now I know that you are sad. Things change! I am very glad that you are here with us at this time," she finished with a smile, squeezing Charly's arm. "Vincenzo says that you are always laughing! I need to hear some laughter from you!"
Charly gave Silvia a small smile.
"That's very good. More of those!" Silvia encouraged her. "Let's get some rest while Simone is resting. You will feel so much better after you close your eyes."
"I'm not used to the middle of the day siesta, but maybe you're right. Maybe I'll feel better if I close my eyes for a while," Charly said. "Show me where to lay my weary head down, Silvia."
⇼
Charly woke up hours later, feeling disoriented. Her last thoughts had been of Eric and she'd dreamed about him. The clock beside the bed read five p.m. but the shades had been drawn, it was dark in the room and she was now under a blanket. She pulled back the shade and squinted into the bright sunlight. She was suddenly very hungry.
Silvia, Simone and Lily Carruci were dipping crusty bread in olive oil when Charly walked into the kitchen. "That smells so good!" Charly said, pulling up a chair.
"Don't eat too much," Silvia warned. "Lily has spent a lot of time to plan this dinner for Vincenzo and Simone."
"No, it was Catrina and Carlo who planned this, really," Lily said, modestly.
Charly stood up as Simone walked in the room. "How are you feeling?"
"Don't ask."
The drive to San Vito Lo Capo was uneventful and breathtakingly beautiful. They were all piled into two cars. One for the men. One for the women.
Charly was supremely underdressed for the occasion. She'd only brought one nice dress with her and she'd already worn it at the wedding. "I don't need to impress anyone here," she said to herself, watching the deep blue of the Mediterranean crash against the distant rocks. The setting sun cast a reflection into the haze of the humid air.
Eight
Catrina Carruci was the first to greet their car. She was every bit as striking as Charly remembered from their brief encounter the previous week at the wedding. Catrina was wearing a soft red chiffon dress with small sequins dusted around the edges of the sleeves, bodice and hem. The dress had been made for her and it swirled gracefully when she walked and fit her perfectly.
"There you are! Finally!" she exclaimed when the driver helped Simone out of the car. "Vincenzo will be glad to see you. He always gets upset when his date is late, you know?"
"No, I don't know. My husband is always glad to see me," Simone shot back, with the emphasis on "husband."
Catrina turned away from her and surveyed Charly. "What ... a ... very ... nice dress," she said, slowly, with contempt.
Charly stood confidently in her cotton dress surrounded by the glittering splendor of the other women.
"I'm glad you like it," she said, airily. "I picked it out myself. I don't usually pay much attention to what I'm wearing, but I thought this was pretty." She returned Catrina's stare with contempt of her own.
Catrina raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Let's go inside! Andiamo!" Simone took one of Charly's hands and Silvia wound her fingers through the other.
"Please, accept my apology for her behavior," Silvia said. "She's always been ... how do you say? A spoiled little bitch, I think."
“That's exactly how I would say it!" Charly said, laughing out loud.
The subdued crashing of the sea against the tall cliffs supplied a rhythmic background as the three of them paraded down the stone steps together.
⇼
They entered to the sound of violins and a cloud of tantalizing aromas. Interested and curious faces watched Vincenzo swing his wife toward him and kiss her on both cheeks, then softly on the mouth. Simone’s long red hair hung loose down her back, and she was wearing a sheath of white satin that draped over one shoulder.
"You look like a Greek goddess!" he whispered in her ear.
"I'll thank you for that, later!" she whispered back.
The cheers for the couple erupted loudly and everyon
e lifted their champagne. "Tanti auguri!" Davide shouted.
The guests took his cue and sipped from their crystal glasses. "Auguri! Auguri!" was repeated throughout the crowd while the waiters busily refilled the glasses.
Charly was quickly surrounded by a friendly group of young men and women who were curious about her. Vincenzo had warned her when she first arrived that the "personal distance" for conversations was much closer than what she was used to, and she found it slightly overwhelming.
"Da dove sei? New York?" asked one persistent voice in her ear. (Where are you from? New York?)
Charly had no idea what he was asking her. "I'm sorry, I speak ... parlo Italiano soltanto un poco ... a very little bit," she said, politely.
He put his arm around her waist and leaned in closer. "In English, then. I saw you at the wedding and wanted to tell you how well you move ... when you dance."
She looked around the group and connected with a pair of dark eyes that were locked on her. Carlo was taller than most of the people in the room and he held her gaze as he made his way toward her.
"Carlo! Che bella festal!" the young man beside her said, without releasing his hold on her elbow. "Mai visto una signorina bella cosi? Penso che sta sola questa sera! Buona fortuna per me!"
(Carlo, what a wonderful party! Have you ever seen a girl so beautiful? I think she's alone tonight! It's my good luck!)
"Ciao, Paolo!" Carlo greeted him with an engaging smile. To Paolo's instant dismay Carlo wrested his grip from Charly's elbow and prodded him toward a table laden with hors d'oeuvres.
"Devi mangiare un poco di piu, Paolo. Sei ubbriacato con champagne," Carlo told him quietly.
(You must eat a little more, Paolo. You're drunk with champagne.)