'Mamma,' Charlotte-Anne laughed, 'you'll never change, will you? Always building, building, building.'
Elizabeth-Anne smiled faintly. 'What else is there to do in the world? One can build things, destroy them, or rest on one's laurels and watch the time go by. Myself, I've never been one who was able to sit still.'
The seven days flew by so quickly that it seemed to Charlotte-Anne that Larry and her mother had barely arrived before it was time for them to pack their bags and leave again. Larry was taking the train to Germany;
Elizabeth-Anne was traveling with him as far as Venice.
'I wish you could have stayed a lot longer,' Charlotte-Anne told them regretfully as they all rode to the Terminal Station together in the Daimler. The late afternoon shadows were a deep tide of purple creeping slowly across the sidewalks.
'In other circumstances, we would have,' Larry assured her, 'but with thirty-seven hotels and tourist courts to look after, your mother has become an extremely busy woman. And for my part, I want to get all our business finished here as quickly as possible, and then reinvest the money in the States. The world is in turmoil right now. It's a time bomb. It won't be long before someone lights the fuse.'
Charlotte-Anne shivered. 'Don't frighten me, Larry,' she said in a low voice.
He looked pained and patted her hand. 'I find it frightening, too, but I'm realistic. That's the way things are. Fooling ourselves does no one any good. Besides, there are always two sides to a coin. In times of war and turmoil, nations' economies change. Some for the better, and some for the worse. It's high time to put some of our money into munitions and aircraft plants in the States. Those are the investments of the future.'
'Aren't you forgetting something?' Elizabeth-Anne asked with a sidelong glance at him.
'Of course not.' He laughed, breaking the tension. 'And the hotels,' he said pointedly with mock seriousness, 'keep growing.'
On the station platform, Larry took Charlotte-Anne aside and held her close. 'Listen, if there's anything you want, anything at all, you'll let us know?'
She nodded. For the first time she saw him not only as her mother's second husband, but as a father to her too. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. 'Yes, Daddy,' she said softly, for the first time not using his Christian name.
He looked deeply touched and hugged her tightly. 'You're sure you don't want to come back to the States and sit things out for a while? At least until the troubles here are over? You've always got a place at home with us.'
She thought fleetingly how tempting that offer was, but it was no use. And she couldn't admit to Larry and her mother that she wasn't allowed to leave Italy.
'I'm sure,' she said, switching on her brightest smile. Then she added softly, 'My home is here, beside Luigi. He's my husband, and I love him. But thanks anyway.'
She was quiet with sadness now that they were about to leave. It was as though she had a premonition that her life was changing. If Larry was right, the neat order of things was about to be upset. She would no longer be able to govern her thoughts and actions. With marriage, she had crossed over a threshold over which she could not return.
'We worry about you,' Elizabeth-Anne told her as she took her daughter in her arms.
Charlotte-Anne pressed her head against her mother's breast. 'Whatever for?' she murmured. 'I'm like you, Mamma. Indomitable. And besides, I'm being well taken care of.' She pulled away gently, sought Luigi's hand, and gave it a firm squeeze. Then the conductor's shrill whistle resounded down the platform, they all quickly exchanged a few last kisses, and Larry helped Elizabeth-Anne up into the first class carriage.
Charlotte-Anne and Luigi watched the train as it pulled out slowly. She followed her mother's waving hand, and she waved back with a white handkerchief. Soon the hand and the train disappeared from sight.
'They are very nice people,' Luigi observed as they walked back outside to the car. 'They love you very much.'
Charlotte-Anne nodded. 'And they both liked you, even if Larry didn't agree with all your opinions.'
'He is a very bright man. Perhaps he did not agree, but he understood.'
'He thinks it will all end in tragedy.' She stopped walking and stared at Luigi in silence for a moment, gazing into those darkly hypnotic eyes of his. 'Do you think that too, Luigi? You never talk about it.'
He shrugged. 'I can do many things, cara, but I cannot read the future.'
She laughed then and hooked her arm through his. The visit had done them both a world of good. She hadn't felt so light-hearted and alive in a very long time. And it had been ages since she had seen Luigi for so long without interruption.
'What I still can't get over,' she marveled, shaking her head in amazement, 'is the fact that it's possible to fly from Germany to New York in a little over fifty-one hours. Larry can get there in two days from Frankfurt, while Mamma's crossing will take six or seven days. It's as if the world is shrinking right in front of our very eyes.'
'That is nothing, compared to the future,' Luigi speculated. 'Someday, it will be a matter of mere hours.'
'Is that the aviator in you speaking?' she teased him.
'It is.'
'Well, we'll just have to wait and see. Myself, I can't comprehend that. But someday, I would like to fly across the Atlantic like Larry's going to do. I think it's exciting.'
'And someday you shall.'
'Maybe you'll be my pilot.'
He made a face. 'Not until passenger airplanes can make that trip. I'm an airplane pilot, cara. I don't consider those Zeppelins to be flying machines. All they are is giant balloons.'
'But fast ones.'
'You think they are fast? Not compared to airplanes they're not. They are slow and clumsy.'
And, it was proved on May 6, 1937, they were unsafe as well.
Exactly one year after a regular passenger service was inaugurated between New York and Frankfurt, the Hindenburg, while mooring in Lakehurst, New Jersey, exploded and burned. Of the ninety-seven people onboard the giant dirigible, there were thirty-six who lost their lives.
Larry Hochstetter was among them.
16
Much later, when she looked back on it, Charlotte-Anne realized that in a way Larry had been lucky. She knew it was often said that death was worse for those left behind, the loved ones who had to face the world, suddenly alone. When she thought of her mother's grief, expressed in Elizabeth-Anne's long and eloquent letters, Charlotte-Anne didn't doubt the truth of that saying. Through the letters, she felt Elizabeth-Anne's pain and disbelief at again having to endure the loss of her husband, just as Charlotte-Anne herself felt the unspeakable devastation of losing a second father. But her mother didn't lose herself in misery long; she steeled herself to her new, lonelier world and threw herself into her work, finding her own kind of comfort and sustenance in running the Hale empire.
But it wasn't only the struggle for recovery that Larry was spared. Difficult as their personal tragedy was, Charlotte-Anne found herself more frightened and overwhelmed by the political drama that was unfolding. For Larry had been right. The bloodshed he had predicted indeed came, enveloping Europe. Hitler was hungry for power and, together with Mussolini, began to swallow up entire lands and peoples. Europe simmered until it finally reached the boiling point.
By 1937, Italy had conquered Ethiopia.
In 1938, Italy followed the example of its ally Germany and adopted anti-Semitic laws.
In January of 1939, IL Duce announced the annexation of Albania, a conscious imitation of the 'victories' of ancient Rome.
On March 31, 1938, after four years of the right wing dictators Schuschnigg and Dollfus in Austria, Hitler marched in from Bavaria and the resulting Anschluss made Austria an integral part of Germany.
In 1939, Hitler signed a non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union.
It was quickly broken.
By that time Charlotte-Anne had ceased going to social functions unless Luigi was in town. She could no longer bear to hear the sel
f-congratulatory tone of people's voices, or the excited discussions of the new, rising Roman Empire. No one seemed to take into account that the victories had been so easy because many of the conquered had hardly reached the beginnings of the mechanized age. Too often, the victory was nothing more than the slaughter of innocent, virtually stone age tribes by tanks and machine guns.
And then, between the first and the twenty-seventh of September, 1939, the powder keg exploded. Both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland, dividing a country which had tried to fight twentieth century battles with the weapons of the nineteenth.
But Hitler's scheming came to its ridiculous but tragic head after he met the ineffectual British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, in Munich. Chamberlain, as well as his counterpart in France, anxious to spare their countries from the voracious appetite of the Axis powers, gave the Fuhrer the sanction to dismember Czechoslovakia. France and England promised not to interfere.
As she nervously paced the deceptively peaceful gardens of the Villa della Rosa, Charlotte-Anne could only wonder, where will all this lead us next?
She never answered herself, for the reply was too frightening. She worked hard to keep the world at bay; to her, the walls surrounding the Villa della Rosa made it an oasis from reality.
In the fall of 1940, when Luigi came home from a tour of duty after carrying out yet another of his mysterious assignments for Il Duce, he and Charlotte-Anne had made love in the afternoon. While they lay in silence with the curtains drawn over the late sun, waiting for their breathing to return to normal, Charlotte-Anne put her fears into words. 'Luigi,' she whispered, 'what is happening to the world? What is it going to do to us?'
'Don't worry, cara,' he said casually, nuzzling her naked back with his lips. 'It's all for the best.'
She sat up and pressed the rumpled sheet against her breasts. 'But only yesterday I saw people beaten up in the streets and then herded into trucks. I asked someone what was happening, and he said it was because they were Jews.'
'I suggest you don't concern yourself with the Jews,' he said darkly.
'How can I not?' she said fiercely. 'Hitler's gobbling up Europe like some famished emperor, and he's throwing Il Duce the crumbs. What will happen if this continues? Hitler and Mussolini want to conquer the world! Luigi, what if the United States enters into this?'
'The concerns of Europe are not the concerns of America. The United States has had its fill of war from the last one. You will see. America will wisely stay out of this.'
Famous last words, she thought, when on December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
It was not long before Japan's allies, Germany and Italy, declared war on the United States.
The United States, in turn, declared war on Germany on December 8, 1941.
And on Italy three days later.
Charlotte-Anne di Fontanesi, born in the United States and an American in her heart, suddenly found herself an enemy of all she held dear other than her husband.
On opposite sides of the Atlantic, Elizabeth-Anne and Charlotte-Anne greeted the declarations of war with equal fear and dismay. Diplomatic relations between Italy and the United States were cut, and mail exchange was no longer possible through normal postal channels. Only through the efforts of Cardinal Corsini, who acted as middleman, did Charlotte-Anne and her mother stay in touch. Vatican intermediaries smuggled their letters, which necessitated going through a lengthy chain of archdioceses. The Vatican was officially neutral, but Pope Pius XII was considered by Hitler to be a pest. Rumor was that the Fuehrer was considering moving the pope and his entire bailiwick to Germany or, God forbid, to Liechtenstein, where the Vatican could be monitored much more closely and be far less influential.
So exchanging letters took time, generally eight to ten weeks, but sometimes as much as five months. Each time a letter got through, Charlotte-Anne seized upon it, pressed it to her heart, and then read it over and over. The news from New York was good, and bad, and bittersweet.
. . . Things are very hectic without Larry, and how I miss him!
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to get everything done without him. He was such a terrific administrator, I only realize that now. He's made certain that the empire practically runs itself. . .
I just added three new tourist courts to the chain. Of course, it being wartime, a lot of the executives are gone fighting, and it's making for a lot of extra work for me. With the men gone, I've had to hire a lot of women, and they're working out just fine . . .
Zaccheus has been shipped to active duty in the Pacific. He was so excited to finally be part of what he calls the 'fighting navy, ' but he's only 18! I worry about him constantly. . .
I hope everything in Rome is fine. The reports we get here are all so vague. I really don't know what to think, but I know now, with Luigi on the other side, and you there too, how people must have felt during our Civil War, with brother fighting brother. . .
I'm so devastated. I don't know if I can bear this new tragedy. Zaccheus has been sent home, and he's in the hospital. I don't know what to think or do, other than pray. He's had to have both his legs amputated, and sometimes I fear he's even lost the will to live. . .
I'm so happy about Zaccheus's nurse, Janet. She's kind and plain, but a sensible woman, and she's nursing him so well. For the first time, Zaccheus seems to be gaining some of his old fight back. . .
You wouldn't believe it, darling! I cried and cried all through the ceremony. Janet will make him such a wonderful and understanding wife. Only a year after his horrible injury and now they love each other so dearly, and it's heartwarming to know that she can take good care of him. . .
Janet is pregnant! I'm so overjoyed. At least something good has come out of this damn war!
For a while, it was impossible for Charlotte-Anne to guess which side would win. Germany had the support of Italy and Japan, but the Allies consisted of the United States, France, England, and the Soviet Union. Battle after battle seemed to be the turning point, leaving one side or the other in the stronger position.
Since the United States had gotten involved, Charlotte-Anne no longer tried to hide but followed the war avidly. She started going out again, if only to catch up on the latest news.
Charlotte-Anne's circle of acquaintances knew more than most, as they were the power brokers of Rome. Not everyone was as discreet as Luigi, and gossip flowed freely. If the generals and their wives weren't lying, she quickly discovered, then what she read in the newspapers and heard on the radio wasn't the entire truth, not by a long shot. Listening to the official Italian reports, one would have thought that the Allies were taking a devastating beating. At first this was true, but as time went by, Charlotte-Anne learned from her select circle of friends that the Allies were beginning to win. Charlotte-Anne didn't dare let on how desperately happy this news made her.
And when, on September 9, 1943, the Allies invaded Italy, she sat in the garden of the Villa della Rosa and broke open a bottle of champagne and celebrated quietly by herself.
She had celebrated prematurely; she found that out all too soon.
On September 10, Luigi returned to Rome. He had one night to spend with her before being transferred down to the boot of Italy with an Infantry division in order to try and stop the Allies in their tracks. For once, he allowed his worries to show. The fact that Il Duce had put his premier flying ace in charge of mere foot-soldiers spoke for itself. Luigi couldn't hide his awareness of the fact that it would only be a matter of time before Italy was conquered.
Charlotte-Anne was more terrified than she had ever been. It was common knowledge that in any war, infantrymen suffered the heaviest casualties. Now she feared for his life so deeply that she berated herself for cheering the Allies on. But she had little time to torment herself. She had to put on her best face for Luigi; after he was gone, she could torture herself with worries all she pleased.
The precious hours flew by. When the staff car arrived to fetch him, she saw hi
m out to the front gate. The night was still and, with one hand, she clutched her nightgown around her shoulders. A sliver of moon floated like a white gondola in the sky. He kissed her deeply and urgently, and then he extracted the promise from her.
'Please, cara. There is something you must do for me.' His voice was thick. 'I don't have the time, or I would do it myself. Go to the Palazzo di Cristallo and persuade my parents to come to Rome and stay here until it is all over. They'll be safer here. I'm afraid there's going to be a lot of fighting and bloodshed to the south.'
She had no wish to ever see them or the palazzo again, but she knew she could not refuse him this one wish. He loved his parents, and she loved him. She had never let him know how much she and his mother hated each other and never would, especially not now, when he was being shipped to the front. He would have enough things on his mind without her adding to his misery - important things, such as staying alive.
So she promised.
Umbria lulled one into a sense of false security. On the surface, wherever she looked, Charlotte-Anne saw a world at peace. The vineyards were well tended, the grapes lushly hanging on the vines.
No matter how much she argued, the Principessa Marcella would not allow Charlotte-Anne to persuade her and the Prince to travel to Rome. 'I wouldn't dream of leaving here,' she snapped at her daughter-in-law. 'A di Fontanesi never turns tail and runs.'
'But it's going to be dangerous,' Charlotte-Anne protested. 'And, anyway, it wasn't my idea. It was Luigi's.'
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