“You have a beautiful face, Teresa.”
“Grazie, Rosalia. So I took a ride with him in the car. It was during siesta when the nuns took their nap—well, those who weren’t praying. There were a few nuns who never took siesta and instead spent that time praying even more. I knew these nuns wouldn’t notice my absence since they would be holed up in the chapel. I pretended to go to sleep so that Elisabetta and the other nun who shared our room wouldn’t notice. As soon as I was certain they were sound asleep, I quietly made my way outside to the back of the convent, where the boy was waiting for me on the other side of the gate with his father’s car.
“Once I was in the car and we had driven away from the convent, I took off my veil and unpinned my hair, shaking it out. I felt so free!
“The boy’s eyes grew wide as he took in my blond hair.” Teresa laughed. “Thank God, we met once my hair had grown back or else he would’ve surely run when he saw the chick’s head that mine resembled after the nuns had cut all my hair off.”
Rosalia laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. “You’re too funny, Teresa!” She shook her head.
“Well, it’s true. Anyway, my knight in shining armor took me into town and bought chocolate for me. Of course, people were staring at us because I was still dressed in that horrible habit. People must’ve thought I was mad since here was this nun, decked out in her full habit, but she was not wearing her wimple and veil and her hair was spread out over her shoulders. And she was in the company of a young man who it was obvious had designs on her.”
“That was so bold of you, Teresa!” Rosalia placed her hand over her mouth and giggled, imagining the strange sight that Teresa must’ve surely posed that day.
“It was. But you have to realize, Rosalia, I was nearly to the point of killing myself. That’s how sad I was at the convent. I had become reckless, and I truly believed I would get away with it that day. But there was a priest who saw me, and he immediately called the convent. When the mother superior saw I was not sleeping in my room, she knew the priest was correct in identifying one of her nuns as being in town with a young man and not wearing her wimple and veil.
“When I came home, the mother superior yelled at me and made me kneel on a wooden pew in the chapel where we prayed. I had to keep my hands on top of the bench in front of me while she repeatedly hit them with a wooden paddle. Tears slid down my face, but I refused to cry out from the pain. She then told me I was no longer a nun and that I would have to leave the convent the next day. She said Elisabetta would also have to leave. Sorella Maria tried to intervene for Elisabetta, pleading with the mother superior to let her stay, but the mother superior wouldn’t hear of it.
“ ‘They share the same blood. She will make fools of us someday just as her sister did,’ the mother superior said.
“So, as I had suspected, the convent also punished Elisabetta for my behavior. The mother superior called Madre Carmela and asked her if she would take us in and employ us in the pastry shop. She told Madre Carmela that would be our way of paying for our room and board. I was kind of surprised the mother superior didn’t just throw us out onto the street, not caring where we ended up, but I think Sorella Maria might have been the one to come up with the idea of asking Madre Carmela if she could hire us. I guess Sorella Maria did care about Elisabetta, and it wasn’t just for her own selfish motives that she was encouraging my sister to become a nun. I suppose I should be grateful to her for finding us room and board.”
Teresa sighed before continuing. “Elisabetta has never forgiven me for what I did. She cried so much when we left the convent under the cover of night. The sisters didn’t want the younger nuns to witness our leaving, and my defrocking. When we arrived at the Convento di Santa Lucia, I was relieved that Madre Carmela was much kinder than the mother superior from our old convent. And I was relieved the way of life was not as severe. I hoped that spending time here would rid Elisabetta of her desire to become a nun. But it didn’t. Of course she can never go back to our old convent, but I think she is happy to be here and hopes she will be able to become a novitiate in Madre Carmela’s order.”
“And what happened to that boy? Did you ever see him again?”
Teresa’s face lit up. “The boy was Francesco.”
“Francesco!” Rosalia then remembered hearing from Antonio that Francesco’s father owned a farm. “But how did he know you were here?”
“It was fate. That is how I know we were meant to be together. His father’s farm is nearby, and Francesco had heard about the nuns’ famous pastries. He and his father would often come by the shop to buy sweets for his mother. So he was shocked when he saw me selling at the pastry shop window.”
“This is why you haven’t told Elisabetta yet about Francesco?”
“Yes. Although she never knew what he looked like or his name, I know she would still not approve. I think she hopes that I will come to my senses and ask if Madre Carmela would allow me to become a nun here, even though I’ve told Elisabetta I would rather die first.”
“I see. But she will find out once you’re married, Teresa.”
“I know. But things will be different then. She won’t be able to do anything about it once we’re married, and I think she will respect my decision more then. If I tell her now of my plans, she will just think I am being foolish and rash again. I will tell her everything after Francesco and I are married. She will then see that I truly fell in love with Francesco from the moment I first saw him and that I wasn’t just being a silly young woman when I snuck out of the convent that day to be with him.
“So we plan on eloping the week after Easter. I will need a witness, and Francesco has asked Antonio. And now that you know of our plans, I hope you will agree to be my witness at my wedding, Rosalia?”
“But how will I explain being gone from the convent that day?”
“We’re going to do it on a day that we have off. Madre Carmela has let you go on your outings with Antonio. You can just act like it is another outing with him, which won’t be untrue. She just won’t know that I’ll be there with Francesco—and neither will my sister.”
Rosalia thought for a moment. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Grazie, Rosalia!” Teresa hugged her.
Rosalia felt her stomach grumble. She had left a bag of Piparelli, covered up tightly, on the opposite side of the fountain so that she and Teresa could nibble on a few when they wanted a snack. Walking over to retrieve the biscotti, she was surprised to see her friend—the bluethroat—perched by the bag.
“Ah! You know what I have in this bag, don’t you?”
The bluethroat looked at Rosalia, and a slight chill ran through her when the bird’s eyes seemed to make direct contact with her own.
“He’s so beautiful!” Teresa came to Rosalia’s side. But the bird barely heeded her, instead watching Rosalia’s movements as she pulled one of the Piparelli out of the bag and broke off a crumb to give to the bird. She held the crumb out, and the bird hopped over and quickly pecked at the crumb until it was all gone.
“He’s not afraid of you!” Teresa marveled.
“Of course not. We’re friends. I’ve been feeding him for a few months now. He’s often on the branch that is just outside my window.” Rosalia pointed to her window.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bluethroat on the convent’s grounds before.”
“Antonio told me he’s seen this bird before, but no other bluethroats.”
“But how can you be sure it’s the same one?”
“I can tell.”
Teresa reached into the bag and took one of the Piparelli for herself. “Ugghh! I’m so sick of these biscotti, but I’m hungry, so it’ll have to do.”
Piparelli were biscotti that were usually made during the Lenten season because the recipe did not call for eggs. Catholics were supposed to abstain from eating meat, fat, and eggs during Lent. Since Lent had begun, no meat or fat had been consumed at the convent. And while Sicilians still bought their sw
eets during Lent, although in more moderation, the sisters expected everyone who resided at the convent to only eat Piparelli. But Rosalia had weakened and given in to her craving for a marzipan fruit and would quickly pop a raspberry or cherry marzipan in her mouth when her back was turned toward the other workers in the kitchen.
Rosalia fed a few more crumbs to the bluethroat before finishing off the last biscotto. The bird glanced at her for a moment before flying away. Rosalia followed it with her eyes, but it was too fast for her, and she lost track of where it had flown. Every time she saw the bluethroat, it made her feel happy. She couldn’t explain why.
Teresa let out a loud yawn as she glanced at her wristwatch. “I’m going to take a nap before siesta is over. All that running and chasing after you has tired me out. Are you coming inside?”
Rosalia shook her head. “I think I’m going to take a walk.” She loved strolling around the convent’s grounds when everyone was taking their siesta. The serenity of the convent soothed her, and it was during these times that she felt most at peace.
“Va bene. Remember . . .” Teresa pressed her lips together and mimicked zipping them shut with her fingers.
“Don’t worry, Teresa, your secret is safe with me.” Rosalia waved at her friend as she walked away.
Rosalia walked under the corridor where she and Teresa had been zigzagging in and out of the porticoes. She thought about Teresa and how sure she seemed about her love for Francesco. Then Rosalia thought about how she would miss her once Teresa married and moved to Messina. She sighed. But that was life, coming into contact with people and losing them. A quick jolt of pain pierced her heart, but she forced herself to push the feeling away. Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes and soon felt calm again. Madre Carmela had taught her this form of meditation, not just for praying, but also for when Rosalia wanted to still her racing mind, especially when she was feeling anxious. It had helped her tremendously.
“Boo!”
“Oh!” Rosalia clutched her chest with her hands. “Antonio! You scared me!”
“That was the point!” Antonio laughed as he came closer to Rosalia and took her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair. Rosalia began to push him away, still mad that he had startled her, but the moment he began running his hands through her hair, she felt her defenses melt away and instead leaned into him.
“I’m sorry! I was just having a little fun. Please, don’t be mad at me.” Antonio tilted his head so that his gaze met Rosalia’s, his eyes pleading.
She could never be mad at him when he looked like that. She laughed.
“Is that the face you gave your mother when you were a little boy and wanted to get away with bad behavior?”
“How did you know?” Antonio grinned.
Rosalia pulled out of his embrace and resumed walking.
“Would you like to walk with me?”
“Of course. I like to do anything with you.”
Antonio took Rosalia’s hand in his and matched her slow pace. She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one saw them.
“Relax.”
“I just don’t want Madre Carmela or the other sisters to think we’re . . .” She struggled to find the right word.
“Cavorting?”
Rosalia blushed, but she remained silent.
“We’re not doing anything wrong, Rosalia. I like you a lot, and when you’re ready, I think we should let Madre Carmela know. Besides, I’m sure she has her suspicions.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Come on, Rosalia! We’ve been spending all of our free days together. I think she likes me and approves of my spending so much time with you. I’m almost certain she would give us her blessing. So there’s really no need for you to worry.”
Rosalia pondered what he said. It was true. She had also gotten the sense from Madre Carmela that she thought highly of Antonio, and she always seemed pleased to hear that Rosalia was going with Antonio on their outings. At first, Rosalia had believed it was just that Madre was happy she was getting out of the convent, but then she had noticed how Madre Carmela always had something nice to say about Antonio. It was almost as if she was trying to emphasize his positive attributes to Rosalia. But whenever she thought about telling Madre that there was something more between Antonio and her than friendship, she wanted to hide.
Deciding to change the subject, she said, “Teresa told me of her plans to elope with Francesco. She asked me to be her witness and told me you will stand for Francesco.”
Antonio looked surprised. “She told you?”
“Si. She asked me not to tell Elisabetta or anyone else of course.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. I suppose the two of you have grown close recently.”
“We have. Actually, I’ve become close to a few of the women here—Anunziata, Mari. . . .”
“So you told her you would be her witness?”
“I did. It looks like we’ll be together that day for their wedding.”
“I’m happy for them. They are obviously crazy about each other.”
Antonio’s voice did not mirror his words. Instead, he sounded and looked sad.
“Is everything all right, Antonio?”
“Si. Just tired.”
“I should let you get some sleep. Teresa told me you went into town to buy supplies.” Rosalia began to take her leave of Antonio, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her.
Rosalia’s heart raced. He had never kissed her like this before. His tender kisses of the past few weeks and the gentle prodding of his tongue now deepened into a long, unbroken kiss. Her stomach flipped, and though she felt nervous, she also felt a wonderful warm sensation spread throughout her. Before she knew what she was doing, Rosalia wrapped her arms around Antonio and kissed him back.
When they finally pulled apart, she felt slightly dizzy. She pressed her fingers to her swollen lips. Part of her was a little sad that the kiss was over.
“I’m sorry, Rosalia. I got carried away.” He blushed, a soft smile playing along his lips.
“You don’t need to apologize, Antonio. I guess you could say I got carried away, too.” She laughed softly.
“Don’t go. I’m tired, but I love spending as much time with you as possible. Come back with me to my place. We can just relax and listen to my radio.”
Rosalia hadn’t been to the abandoned chapel where Antonio slept since the day she and Anunziata had trespassed. She was a little scared to be alone with him there, but then again, they had been alone on their outings on their days off. But this was different. They would be in his home, sitting on his bed. From what she remembered that was the only piece of furniture he had.
“Don’t be afraid. I promise I won’t kiss you. We’ll just talk and listen to music.”
Although she was anxious, she also enjoyed being in his presence. He made her feel safe—and loved. Her father had created a safe haven for her and her family in their home. But with Antonio, it was different. She felt that she could go anywhere with him and would never have to worry—as long as he was there with her. Rosalia knew he would always protect her. She was still in awe of how he seemed to be able to read her thoughts and sense her feelings. No one had been able to do this before . . . well, maybe except for Mamma. Antonio always knew, too, when to give her space. He had to be the most patient person Rosalia had ever met. She had noticed he was a careful listener, not just with her but with everyone. Yes. There was no doubt in her mind he was a good person, and the more she got to know him, the more she felt herself falling in love with him. His gentle ways with her and thoughtfulness had won over her trust. But it was more. She admired the kind man he was and the integrity he carried with him. Besides her family, she had never loved anyone the way she loved Antonio. Perhaps that was why she still didn’t fully trust her feelings for him and was scared. For the love she shared with him felt so p
owerful. Though her immense feelings for Antonio still made her anxious, she knew in this moment that she wanted to spend time alone with this wonderful young man with whom she had fallen in love.
“All right. I’ll come,” Rosalia said softly, keeping her gaze to the ground.
Antonio beamed.
They held hands once again as they walked to the abandoned chapel. Neither of them said a word. Every few seconds, Antonio’s eyes met Rosalia’s, and he offered her a reassuring smile.
When they reached the chapel, Antonio unlocked the door and stood back, letting Rosalia enter first.
She could feel her pulse racing once she stepped inside. She was surprised to notice a couple of pieces of furniture now existed: a small, café-style table and a nightstand. Unfortunately, the only place to sit was still Antonio’s bed.
“I’m slowly buying more things as you can see, but I don’t want to accumulate too much.”
Rosalia nodded her head. Of course he didn’t want to collect too many things since he was planning on leaving. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be letting herself develop feelings for a boy who was not going to be around.
“Sit down.” Antonio gestured to the foot of the bed.
He went over and turned his radio on. An Italian pop ballad came on.
Rosalia sat at the corner of the bed, trying to look as relaxed as possible.
Antonio sat next to her, but kept some space between them.
She mulled over something to say, but for some reason her mind was blank. Usually, they talked about everything, from their families to what they had baked in the kitchen that day to their childhoods. She supposed her nerves were getting the better of her. Antonio was strangely quiet, too.
Wanting to break the awkward silence, Rosalia blurted, “So when are you planning on leaving the convent?”
Antonio looked at her, surprised, and immediately she regretted her impulsiveness.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Not anytime soon. There is still so much I need to learn here, and I haven’t saved enough money.”
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