Ellie laughed. “No, I’m not. They’re not going to hurt me.”
“How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “I’m one of them. They just know.”
He stared at her. “You are not one of them. You have a job and a home. Maybe you were almost one of them once upon a time, but not now.” He grabbed her arm and made her stop. “Ellie. Listen to me. I don’t care if Daniel is out there somewhere. You are not one of them. And you are going to get hurt if you keep walking up to them like that.”
Ellie pulled her arm free and walked on. Sullivan had to hurry to catch up. “I’m not going to get hurt,” she said. “And Daniel is out there somewhere. I know it.”
Sullivan walked beside her for a few blocks, neither of them talking. “Want to get some breakfast?” he asked at last.
“I can’t,” she said. “I told Teresa Benedetto I’d help her with a Thanksgiving display at their store.” She stopped. “I should get back.”
“Ellie, I’m sorry. I—”
“I know, Sullivan,” Ellie said quietly. “But I have to believe he’s out there. I have to.”
“Maybe I should do that.”
Teresa looked back. Her rear end had knocked over half the trees in their model of Central Park.
When Ellie had arrived that morning, she had with her an artist’s folio. “I thought—I hope you don’t think I was being presumptuous—but I already planned…” She unzipped the folio and pulled out cardboard and construction paper models of Central Park, buildings, cartoon characters. “How about if we build a model of the Macy’s Parade in your window?”
“Are you allowed to do Macy’s when you work for Kaufman’s?” Teresa asked.
Ellie laughed. “It’s only against the rules if you work for Gimbels.”
“This is amazing,” Teresa said, looking over the detailed miniatures.
Ellie reached back into the folio and pulled out a bag of plastic toy soldiers. “Our band and our balloon-handlers.”
Teresa shook her head. “You thought of everything,” she said, but when it came time to set up the window, “I’m like a bull in a china shop,” she confessed. Every time she shifted, she knocked something over.
Ellie lithely climbed into the front window and straightened all the knocked-over trees. Carefully, she strung up the fake balloons—Popeye, Superman, and Donald Duck, anchoring them to the toy soldiers who were now serving in the parade. As a finishing touch, she sprinkled the scene with soap flakes to look like snow.
People stopped to watch, pointing and smiling. Mrs. Schiavo and Mr. Campagnolo from the shoe repair shop came by as well.
Teresa went outside. “What do you think?” she asked Mrs. Schiavo.
“It looks wonderful, molto bello,” she said. “Like watching the parade on the television.”
Some of the passersby came into the store to browse, enticed by the aroma of coffee and chocolate. Sylvia was kept busy making cappuccinos and lattes, but earlier that morning, she hadn’t been happy about Ellie’s arrival.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she’d whispered angrily to Teresa. “She knows nothing about us. Why are you bringing her here?”
“Ma, she knows retail,” Teresa said. “We sold four times as much at Halloween as we ever have before. Why are you arguing about this?”
At Ellie’s suggestion back when they did the Halloween window, Teresa had talked her father into ordering Thanksgiving-themed tablecloths, napkins and candles.
“Your store isn’t big enough to move expensive items like china,” Ellie had said. “But you could do specialty items, like serving platters and extra touches that people will buy to make their tables look nice. And what doesn’t sell this year will save for next year. This kind of merchandise doesn’t go out of fashion. Do the same for Christmas and you’re set. As soon as Thanksgiving is over, people start their Christmas shopping.”
Ellie’s advice was already bearing fruit, as customers began buying some of the things Lou had stocked.
The decorating of the window took most of the afternoon. “What do you think?” Ellie asked. She shivered in the cold as she stood out front with Teresa to survey their work.
“I think it looks great,” Teresa said. “The best holiday window we’ve ever had. I can’t thank you enough. I never would have been able to do this by myself.”
Early dusk was falling as they went inside to clean up the leftover bits and pieces.
“I wish you’d let us pay you,” Teresa said. “This was a big job. And all the materials you used—”
“Oh, no,” Ellie said. “This was fun. I never get to do the real windows at Kaufman’s, only the displays in my department.”
“Well, the least we can do is feed you dinner,” Teresa said. “One thing the Benedettos know how to do is cook and eat.”
Ellie laughed. “That, I will say yes to.” She glanced over to where Sylvia was cleaning the espresso machine. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
Teresa waved a hand. “Ignore her. She has a natural distrust of anyone not Italian. She’ll get over it. Come on.” To her mother, she said, “Ma, I’m going to head home and get some dinner started. Ellie’s coming home to eat.”
She didn’t stay to see her mother’s reaction, and Ellie followed her out the back door to where the VW sat.
“What?” Ellie asked as Teresa looked around in the gathering darkness.
“Nothing.”
There had been no sign of Dogman and Lucy for the past few nights, not since Teresa had found the empty plate and fork left at the back door that next morning with the umbrella neatly rolled up beside them.
Teresa drove them home, just a few blocks from the store, and parked on the curb out front.
“Oh, what a nice house,” Ellie said, looking up at the brick foursquare with its broad front porch and red door.
Teresa looked up at it, feeling as if she were seeing it with new eyes, Ellie’s eyes—“well, that’s how I felt about everything in those days,” she would remember later. “Like I was seeing the world through her eyes.” It was a nice house, she realized, warm and inviting.
They entered the foyer, and she was aware of the smells of garlic and bread as Ellie sighed. “This is lovely.”
She took Ellie’s coat and hung it on the coat tree. She watched Ellie look around the living room, going over to the fireplace mantel where there were several framed photos.
“Is this your First Communion?” Ellie asked, taking down a photo of two little girls in frilly white dresses, wearing white lace on their heads, their hands in white gloves clasping the new rosaries they’d been given to commemorate the day.
Teresa made a face. “Yes. The last time I was the same size as Bernie.”
Ellie laughed and put the photo back on the mantel. Teresa saw a brief frown flit over Ellie’s features as she turned and saw the crucifix above the sofa.
“Come on back to the kitchen,” Teresa said.
Ellie gasped again as Teresa flipped on the lights. “This is just what a kitchen should look like,” she said.
Teresa looked around. “It’s just a kitchen.”
“No, it isn’t.” Ellie’s eyes shone. “It’s the heart of this home. There’s love here.”
Puzzled, Teresa looked around again. What she saw was a half-eaten loaf of bread covered by a towel on the wooden cutting board. She saw a counter lined with a coffee maker, a small espresso machine, a commercial-grade mixer, a toaster. She saw a marble slab on the table where it had been left to dry after being used to knead the dough from yesterday’s batch of bread. She saw a couple of hanging baskets, one filled with onions and cloves of garlic, another with potatoes.
Ellie smiled at Teresa’s blank expression. “You don’t see it because you’re here in it every day. But if you didn’t have this, you would see it. And you would miss it.”
Teresa didn’t know what to say. She handed Ellie a knife. “Why don’t you slice us some bread and I’ll put some water on to boil. Spaghetti and meatballs okay?”
They busied themselves putting a meal together.
“What about your parents? How much should I cut?” Ellie asked as she laid slices of bread on a plate.
“Do the whole loaf. They’ll have some when they get home,” Teresa said. “Ma will be home soon. The store closes in half an hour. My dad is at our Morningside store today, with my brother. They’ll be in when they get in. My mom will warm something up for them whenever. Heaven forbid any man lift a hand to feed himself in this house.”
A short while later, Ellie said, “Oh, my gosh, this is so good,” as she and Teresa began to eat. She looked at her heaping bowl of spaghetti, topped with three meatballs. “Do you eat like this every day?”
Teresa looked down and gestured to herself. “Don’t I look like I eat like this every day?”
Ellie glanced at her. “You look—”
“Whoa.”
They both jumped at Gianni’s entrance into the kitchen.
“Who do we have here?” he asked, immediately running a hand over his hair as he strutted over to the table.
“Oh, God,” Teresa moaned.
Ellie turned to Teresa. “Your brother?”
“How’d you guess?”
Gianni grabbed the chair next to Ellie and sat. “Well, you know who I am, beautiful. Who are you?”
Ellie laughed. “Does that actually work for you?”
Gianni pulled back a bit. Ellie immediately looked contrite at the hurt expression on his face.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m Ellie. I’m a friend of Teresa’s. We were working on the store window today.”
Gianni, always one to press an advantage, took Ellie’s hand in both of his. “Apology accepted. The store window, huh? You should come to Morningside and do me.”
Ellie whipped her hand away. “On second thought,” she said icily, “I’m not sorry.”
Teresa smirked. “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”
“Shut up.” Gianni shoved to his feet. “Where’s Ma?”
“She should be home soon,” Teresa said. “But if you want food, you can get it yourself. I’m not waiting on you.”
“Who asked you?” he sneered. “I’m going to Angelina’s tonight.”
“Nice,” Teresa said. “Hitting on another girl on your way to your girlfriend’s.”
Gianni gave her the finger as he turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen.
Ellie tilted her head in the direction of the stairs. “Is he always like that?”
“Always.” Teresa shook her head. “The sun rises and sets on Giovanni Benedetto.”
Ellie twirled her fork, wrapping the tendrils of spaghetti around it. “I thought you had another brother?”
“I do,” Teresa said. “My older brother, Robbie. Roberto. But he got divorced a few years ago and now he never comes around.”
Ellie paused her twirling. “Your parents won’t see him because he got divorced?”
Teresa tore a slice of bread and used a piece to soak up some sauce from her plate. “The divorce was bad enough, but then he got remarried.”
“They don’t like her?”
Teresa snorted. “She’s older than him, she’s not Catholic, and she’s not Italian. What do you think?” She reached for a slice of bread. “I really like Karen. But my parents have made it clear she’s not welcome, and Robbie says he won’t come without her. So he doesn’t come home and nobody talks.” She glanced over and started to reach out, but stopped herself. “You have some sauce, just here.” She tapped her own chin.
Ellie lifted her napkin and wiped the sauce away. “Do you see him?”
“Yeah, I do.” Teresa spread a thick slab of butter on her bread. “I like them both, but I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like. Robbie is a real estate agent, so he works crazy hours. Karen works in an insurance office not too far from your bank. I meet her for lunch sometimes.”
Ellie’s face took on an expression Teresa was beginning to recognize. “What?”
Ellie shrugged. “I just think… If your parents knew how easily they could lose your brother —or anyone really—they wouldn’t waste life not talking.”
Teresa stared at Ellie who was busily trying to twirl her spaghetti around her fork again. She heard Gianni moving around upstairs. It was hard to imagine missing him. She had often wished her parents had stopped after Francesca.
The back door into the kitchen opened with a clatter as Sylvia came in. Teresa covered a smile as Ellie stood up and said, “Oh, Mrs. Benedetto, your home is wonderful. Thank you so much for having me over.”
Sylvia, nonplussed, said, “You’re welcome, Ellie. Thank you for all your help with the store.”
Ellie offered to take her coat for her while Teresa filled a bowl. “Here, Ma, come and sit down. Eat while it’s hot.”
Sylvia had just sat down to her dinner when Lou came in. Teresa introduced him to Ellie.
“So you’re the genius helping us out,” Lou said as Teresa filled another bowl.
“It’s my pleasure,” Ellie said.
“Kaufman’s better watch it. I just might hire you away,” Lou said. He chuckled at his own joke as he tucked a napkin into his shirt collar.
Teresa filled a glass bowl with the leftover spaghetti, covered it with plastic wrap and then wrapped the whole thing in aluminum foil.
“I’m going to drive Ellie home,” Teresa said as she tucked the bowl under her arm.
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s dark and cold,” Teresa said, cutting off Ellie’s protest. “I’m not letting you take the bus. Come on.”
They huddled in the cold VW. “Here.” Teresa reached into the back seat and offered Ellie a folded woolen throw that she kept in the car.
“You never know when you might break down and freeze to death,” Sylvia often fretted, ignoring the fact that Teresa never went anywhere where help was more than several blocks’ walk.
Ellie gratefully wrapped the throw over her legs as she gave Teresa directions to her apartment.
The car was just beginning to put out slightly warm air when Ellie said, “This is it.” Teresa pulled up to the curb. “Would you like to come up?”
“Sure,” said Teresa, more curious than she would have admitted. She got out of the car and retrieved the bowl of leftovers from the back seat, and then followed Ellie through a side door and up the stairs to the third floor.
KC came to greet them as Ellie unlocked the door.
“Hey there,” Ellie crooned, picking her up. “Did you think I wasn’t coming home? This is Teresa. This is KC.”
“KC?”
“Kitty Cat.” Ellie smiled ruefully. “I was not very creative with her name.”
Teresa reached out a hesitant hand. KC gave her a sniff and a little meow.
“Y’uns don’t have any pets?” Ellie asked.
“Are you kidding? My mother and her sisters had a fit when my sister got a cat, said it would smother the baby.” Teresa stroked KC’s soft fur. “In my family, dogs and cats are only for farms, not for houses.”
“Too bad,” Ellie said, snuggling KC against her cheek before setting her down. “They’re wonderful company. Come on in.”
Teresa stepped farther into the kitchen. “Wow.” She pirouetted, taking in all the travel posters papering the walls as she set the foil-wrapped bowl on the kitchen counter.
“All the places I’m going to go someday,” Ellie said.
Teresa followed Ellie into the small living room. “Well, for now, they make pretty wallpaper,” she said.
There it was again, that shadow that flitted across Ellie’s face someti
mes, only there for an instant and then gone. Teresa felt she’d said something wrong, but wasn’t sure what.
“Hey,” she said as a thought occurred to her. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Our family is crazy, and we’ll all be at my aunts’ house and there’ll be lasagna along with the turkey, but I’d love to have you.”
“Oh, um,” Ellie said. “I can’t, but thank you. I already have plans.”
“What plans?” Teresa nearly blurted, certain that Ellie was lying, but instead she just said, “Well, if you change your mind, you’d be welcome.” She walked back out into the kitchen. “I’d better go. I’m sure you’re tired. That’s for you.” She pointed to the bowl on the counter.
“Oh, I can’t—”
“We owe you a week’s worth of food,” Teresa interrupted. “Thank you again for all your help with the window. I never could have done that without you.”
“You’re welcome again.” Ellie threw her arms around Teresa and gave her a quick hug. “See you soon.”
Teresa stumbled as she backed over the threshold. “See you.”
CHAPTER 8
Teresa’s VW chugged through the snow like a little tank, its rear engine giving the back wheels the traction they needed to churn up and down the hills to the store. The snow that had fallen overnight made everything look fresh and clean—“the only time Pittsburgh looks clean,” she muttered through chattering teeth—but she knew it would quickly become a gray sludge as the city woke up and traffic got moving.
In the back seat was a folded winter coat. “You cannot wear that anymore,” Sylvia had declared when Lou had taken it from the closet a couple of weeks ago. “What will people think?” she said, clucking as she inspected the shiny elbows where the wool was worn thin and the one shoulder seam that had pulled away. She insisted he start wearing the new one he’d received last Christmas, folding this one into the bag headed for the Salvation Army.
As Teresa had come downstairs that morning, she had noticed the snow from the window on the stair landing. Down in the foyer, balancing on one foot to pull a boot on, she had nearly tripped over the bag that had been sitting there for days, waiting for someone to take it to the Salvation Army. Remembering that coat, she’d pulled it out of the bag and brought it with her. When she turned into the alley, she wasn’t surprised to see Dogman behind the store, shaking the snow off his sleeping bag so that he could roll it up and tie it to his backpack. Lucy came to her as she got out of the car. Teresa gave her a scratch behind the ears.
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