Bella Cigna

by Wendi Dass

  “That’s okay.”

  Anna shrugged and dashed from the bar, beers in hand.

  Sarah sipped her drink, concentrating on the fuzzy bubbles dancing down her throat. The clamor of rowdy laughter diminished. Even the ass-numbing stool felt almost comfortable.

  Just as Sarah finished the glass, her phone dinged in her pocket. She reached for it so quickly, she fumbled and dropped it. She lunged to the floor and snatched up the phone, whacking her head on the bar as she stood. Her head throbbed. She swiped the screen—a text from Eduardo.

  —Can we talk?—

  —Yes. Call in a sec—

  Sarah typed back as fast as her shaking thumbs would allow. She pulled some money from her purse and threw it on the counter. Her phone dinged again.

  —I’ll come by—

  Sarah quickly texted back.—Not home. At Oxford. With Anna—

  The bartender slid a plate of greasy food in front of her. A sudden queasiness seized her gut, but she wasn’t looking at the food. She stared at the phone.

  —Oxford? When are you back?—

  —Tomorrow—

  The phone shook in her trembling hands. Maybe she should just call? To hell with waiting for his text or waiting to meet in person. Her phone dinged with a new text.

  —Ok. Let’s talk tomorrow—

  The ginger ale in her stomach climbed to her throat. Tomorrow? Tomorrow?! She’d waited three days, and he couldn’t tell her now?

  Sarah pushed away the plate of food. The carbonated soda stung the back of her mouth. Only one reason existed why he wouldn’t tell her over the phone. He wanted to end it.

  She hovered her fingers over the phone keys. Should she tell him she missed him? Should she just pick up the phone and plead—tell him over and over again how sorry she was and how much she loved him? She moved her fingers but couldn’t force them to type the words she longed to say.

  —Ok—

  Without waiting for his response, she eased her phone back in her purse, and the effervescent feeling from her soda drifted away. The crowd behind her roared. The TV blared. Her dinner reeked of overused oil and fish.

  She ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  Chapter 35

  Sarah’s breath was ragged. Her forehead beaded with sweat. But her stomach wasn’t done with her. She wretched again and again, until ginger ale and remnants from lunch filled the pub’s toilet.

  She stood, wiped her bangs from her sticky brow, and flushed the toilet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heaved so much. Yes, losing Eduardo was gut-wrenching, but she had no recollection of vomiting after Philip left. And they’d been together for years, not months.

  Maybe she had a bug, something from school, or from Lucia. Pushing open the stall door, Sarah made her way to the sink. She splashed water on her cheeks. They were cool—no fever and no chills, either. She turned off the faucet. Maybe the queasiness was from nerves after all. She’d feel better tomorrow, after she talked to Eduardo—after she knew her future.

  For now, her time was better spent resting. She would catch an early train back to London with Anna then travel onward to Rome via plane. Sarah yawned—the thought of travel exhausted her—and headed for the bathroom exit.

  She paused with her hand on the door handle. Posters cluttered the door—one caught Sarah’s eye. The flyer pictured a woman in distress speaking to a doctor. British Pregnancy Advisory Service, BPAS—here if you need us, the caption read. Sarah’s skin prickled, and she dropped her hands to her stomach. Her mind replayed one of her many conversations with doctors—this one being a memory from her youth.

  Now, Sarah, don’t let this diagnosis make you think you can be careless with contraception. You can get pregnant.

  Pushing away the words, Sarah blinked and yanked open the door. No, that’s not what this feeling is. You can’t get pregnant, remember? She rushed out. Anna was back at the bar, a guy seated beside her, eating fish and chips. Sarah made eye contact and waved.

  Anna grinned and mouthed, “Don’t wait up.”

  Sarah shook her head. At least she’d have the bed to herself for the next few hours.

  A crowd of students burst through the door, and the chill of the night rushed Sarah’s face. She turned her back to the blast, catching Anna again in her sight. She shivered as Anna’s words echoed in her mind. I haven’t seen someone so upset since Veronica found out she was knocked up.

  These thoughts were ridiculous. Sarah stepped out into the night. Why was she even torturing herself with the notion? True, she’d been nauseous and teetering on a migraine for four days, but these were obviously from stress. And missed periods? Well, how could she even go by those? Her periods were as irregular as Anna’s dating tendencies.

  She knew the symptoms of pregnancy, she’d read about them for years: fatigue, nausea, and sore breasts. Sarah stole a glance around. The street was empty. In a swift motion, she lightly squeezed her left breast. Tenderness was evident. Her breath quickened, and she squeezed again, this time harder. “Ow!” she squeaked. The pain incited giddiness, but she lulled it. She had to be sure.

  Scanning the street, she spotted a green cross flickering ahead—a pharmacy. Without even deciding the best course of action, she sprinted toward the store.

  ****

  A five-minute wait for a cab was nothing. A five-minute wait for the cookies to cool was longer. But the five-minute wait for pregnancy test results? Eternal.

  Sarah sat on the edge of the hotel tub and stared at the plastic stick in her hand. A fuzzy, blue mark emerged in the result-box. Her breath caught, and her hand started to shake. The sign couldn’t be…a plus sign.

  The test slipped from Sarah’s grasp and clattered to the floor. She closed her eyes and rubbed her brow. I must have imagined it. I can’t be…

  She snapped open her eyes and stole a look at the test again, but the mark hadn’t changed. Oh my God, oh my God. Dizziness swept over her, and Sarah placed a hand on the wall to steady herself.

  But she had to be sure.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sarah laid three sticks—one long and white and two with green tops—on the bed: a blue plus sign, two pink double lines, and a flat out “sì.” Never in her life had she gotten a positive pregnancy test, let alone three. She pressed a palm to her stomach, closed her eyes, and let the child within her breathe life into her listless being. Warmth swelled in her chest, a smile spread across her face, and tears ran down her cheeks.

  “My baby,” she whispered. She shoved the tests into her purse, curled up in bed, and stroked her stomach. “Il mio bambino.”

  ****

  The plane ride back to Rome seemed longer than the outbound journey. Sarah could have attributed the time lapse to Anna’s incessant chattering about Oxford being the best thing that had ever happened, but she knew that wasn’t why. She cradled her belly, the miracle inside a bittersweet secret. Because she couldn’t tell Anna or even Meredith. Only one person deserved to know first.

  She wasn’t even sure how far along she was. She tried to count the days. Weeks? Months? Too much had happened since the last time she’d been with Eduardo. But the date didn’t matter. Eduardo’s decision did.

  What if Eduardo didn’t want to be with her? What if he’d already made up his mind? How would the pregnancy affect his decision?

  The plane dipped, and Sarah lurched forward. She clutched the armrests as the plane shook in turbulence. The “fasten seatbelts” sign flashed. Sarah closed her eyes. Why did everything she did, everywhere she went, have to be so out of balance?

  The balanced scales of her favorite Vermeer rushed her mind: the light blooming from the window, the faint smile and perfectly pinked cheeks, and the woman’s stomach, plump beneath a fur coat.

  The turbulence passed, and Sarah opened her eyes. But she still felt like she swayed, drifting in an uncertain direction. Would her scales ever be balanced? She dropped her heavy head toward the window and let out a sigh.

  “For God’s sake, Sa
rah, you look like hell,” Anna said beside her.

  Sarah turned, her lips pursed. “I don’t exactly feel well.”

  “Relax. I told you everything will be fine.”

  Fine? Fine?! In what way would things be fine? Not only did she have to worry about her own future, but the future of her baby. Where would she raise him—in Italy or the States? Would Eduardo be part of his life or just provide financial support? The thought of not being with Eduardo, not hearing his lullaby for Lucia, and not seeing him hold their baby in his hands filled her eyes with tears, and the nausea rose to a new level.

  Anna shook her head, dug in her pocket, and retrieved a tube of lipstick. “Here. Put on this.”

  Sarah pushed it and reached for the barf bag instead. “Not now, Anna.”

  “It’s pink.” Anna waved the lipstick in front of her. “Lipstick will brighten you right up.”

  “Fine.” Sarah took the lipstick and smeared some on her lips without bothering to use a mirror. “Happy now?”

  Anna smiled, curled her legs up under her, and pulled on her oversized headphones.

  Sarah clung to her upchuck bag, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it and turned her head back to the window. Soft clouds stippled the sky. Rays of sunlight streaked the horizon. For a moment, warmth shimmered inside her. What if Anna was right? What if she was worrying for nothing? Maybe Eduardo would forgive her. Maybe he could understand. Maybe they could be together—a family, a real family.

  The plane dipped into the clouds, and soft cotton clouds veiled the light. The cabin shuddered, and sweat prickled Sarah’s brow. She closed the shade on the window.

  No, Eduardo’s forgiveness was too much to hope for. She needed to prepare for the worst—for taking care of herself and this baby without him. Because the road ahead might just be as rough as the turbulence.

  Sarah thought of the Woman Holding a Balance again. No ring shimmered on the woman’s hand, and one didn’t rest among the jewelry on the table in front of her, either. Yet, her scales were balanced.

  Sarah placed a palm on her belly and imagined the life within moving closer to her hand. With or without Eduardo she’d balance her scales—she had to. Because this decision wasn’t about just her anymore. This decision was about her and their baby. Sarah held on to the thought, and the hope, and let it rock her to sleep.

  When she awoke, the plane arrived in Rome. Groggy and nauseated, she mindlessly followed Anna through immigration.

  The corridor opened to the arrival hall. Tourists and locals swarmed. Friends hugged. Children gripped hands. Lovers kissed.

  Clutching her phone, Sarah shoved her hand in her pocket. How soon did she have to tell Eduardo she was back? She tensed her shoulders. A cup of tea, a slathering of Choctella—hell, maybe a swing by the chapel for a quick prayer—might be in store first. Because she needed to rehearse every word and every syllable.

  “I’m making a pit stop.” Anna retreated to the bathroom.

  “I’ll wait here.” Sarah remained motionless, letting the buzz of foreign languages numb her ears. Hello. Buongiorno. Hallo. Leonardo da Vinci airport was where her adventure first began. Would it also be the beginning of the end? The pinch in her shoulders increased, sending tightness down her arms. She lifted her gaze to the bodies pushing past, higher, to the signs above the shops, and higher still, to the metal rafters flanked with billboards—advertisements for stores, restaurants, museums.

  Her mind flashed back to the art she explored that year: the Pieta, The Birth of Venus, the Ariadne. The weight on her shoulders eased. All were strong women. All faced their fears. All persevered. This time she needed to do the same. She loosened her grip on her phone and raised it to eye level. She started to type.

  —Just arrived. When do you want to talk?—

  She waited, her gaze locked on the phone and her breath caught in her throat. With each second the screen remained unchanged, the burning sensation in her chest grew stronger and deeper. Dizziness swept over her, and she leaned onto the handle of her suitcase.

  Where was Anna? She could stand the wait with Anna as a distraction. Sweeping her gaze to the bathroom entrance, she saw no sign of her. She scanned the crowd whizzing past. Among them, a lone figure stood unmoving.

  Sarah blinked. She must be lightheaded, because she could have sworn the person was—

  No—it couldn’t be.

  Sarah inhaled deeply, the air clearing her foggy brain. She looked again, gasped, and stumbled back.

  Across the crowd, the figure moved.

  As he approached, she couldn’t deny who he was—Eduardo. Steadying herself, she fought against the tightening in her throat.

  He buried his hands in the pockets of his black leather coat and weaved through the crowd.

  Sarah clawed at her hair—had she even brushed it today?—and smoothed her wrinkled clothes.

  Eduardo reached her and smiled. “How about we talk now?”

  His easy smile turned her tense muscles into gelatin. With shaky hands, she returned the phone to her purse. “Eduardo, what…what are you doing here?”

  He widened his smile and turned his head.

  Sarah followed his gaze to the entrance to the bathroom.

  Across the terminal, Anna leaned against the wall and winked.

  “Anna and I exchanged numbers before you left for the States. After…you know…” He wrung his hands.

  Sarah didn’t care how he’d gotten the information. She threw her arms around his neck, pressed her cheek against his chest, and took in his familiar scent.

  Eduardo pulled her in, enveloping her.

  She clung, embracing the deep sense of comfort he always brought. “These have been the longest three days of my life.”

  “I’m sorry.” He stroked his hands down her back. “I needed time to wrap my head around things.”

  “Please, don’t be sorry.” She pulled back. “This fiasco is my fault. I should have told you, told you everything, and told you sooner.” She grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Eduardo.”

  He stared down at her.

  He tightened his face, as if resisting the urge to cry. Oh, God. Had she misjudged why he was here? Was he here for something other than reconciliation? She loosened her grip on his hand. “I understand if you can’t forgive me.” She dropped her gaze, the words catching in her throat. “I understand if you want to end things. But I need to tell you someth—”

  “Sarah,” he drew out her name in his mellow baritone, “Of course, I don’t want to end things.”

  She stared up at him. “You don’t?” The passersby blurred, and the announcements on the loudspeaker muffled. She focused every morsel of attention on him.

  “No.”

  He pulled her closer and put his hands on her waist. She couldn’t breathe. His steady gaze reeled her in, stole her breath.

  “I want you to tell me you’re not taking that job,” he said. “I want you to tell me you’re staying here, with me.”

  A half laugh, half cry escaped Sarah’s lips. She leaned into him, resting her cheek on his chest once more, his strength and firmness steadying her. Tears of happiness ran down her cheeks. “I won’t take the job, Eduardo. I want to be with you, with Lucia.”

  “Well, thank God, because that proposition sure beats my fallback plan of joining the priesthood.” A quiet laugh resonated through his chest. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted. “Always?”

  Sarah’s heart fluttered, and her mouth refused to move; her lips were as useless as her wobbly legs. She forced out a clumsy nod.

  Eduardo broadened his smile, lifting his glasses off his slender nose. He removed them as he leaned in, his mouth finding hers.

  Pulling back, Sarah absorbed his cheeky grin. “I just need to tell you one last thing. One tiny thing.”

  The smile on his face faded.

  She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m pregnant.” She pulled back.

  Eduardo furrowed his brows then widened his eyes. As he lifted
Sarah off her feet, he grinned. He whooped something in Italian.

  Sarah didn’t catch what he said. She was too busy praying he didn’t drop her as he swung her.

  He lowered her to the ground and pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were wet with tears. “Mia bella cigna, ti amo.”

  “I love you, too.” Heart warming, she closed her eyes and let the heat spread from her chest down her arms and into her fingertips—her whole body pulsated under his love. She leaned in and pressed her mouth against his.

  In that instant, with the entire world encompassed in the microcosm of their embrace, Sarah knew one thing for sure—her scales were finally in balance.

  Epilogue

  Two Months Later

  Sister Maria sifted papers at her desk and with an arched brow peered down at the one on top. “Your evaluation is quite good, Sarah.”

  Smiling, Sarah had no doubt her final evaluation would go any other way.

  “I’ve started the process of renewing your paperwork with the agency.” Sister Maria passed a sheet across the desk.

  Sarah considered the contract. She didn’t comment on the lack of a salary increase. What did she need the money for anyway? Eduardo insisted on paying for everything. And maternity leave? She’d discuss those details with her later, too.

  “I gather you won’t be keeping your room in the dormitory?” Sister Maria crossed her hands on the desk.

  Sarah shook her head. “I’d like to move out as soon as the girls leave for summer. That is, if that timing is okay.”

  Sister Maria nodded. “This place won’t be the same without you and Anna.”

  Without a word, Sarah held her gaze. She was right—it wouldn’t. Anna heading off to Oxford would be a return to normalcy for Sister Maria but would leave a gaping hole in Sarah’s life. Who would she dine with at Al Forno’s? But who would keep Anna out of trouble? At least Anna would only be a short plane trip away.

  Sister Maria’s gaze fell to the ring on Sarah’s hand. “I hope the engagement will be short.”

  Sarah gazed at the sparkling two-carat diamond. Great. Sarah could add Sister Maria to the growing list of people who wanted the wedding to happen as soon as possible—a list that included Eduardo, Mom, and Meredith. What was the rush? She placed a hand on her abdomen, on the bump that was easy to hide under loose garments—maybe a tiny rush. “We’ll see.” Sarah smiled.