Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

  “Maybe you should have married Stefano.” Ariana laughed. “There’s still time, Aunt Ruby.”

  “Stefano has his own life, dear,” Ruby said, tilting her head. “He doesn’t want mine. We’re close, but I would never cross that line. We respect each other. Sometimes we go to the movies or share a glass of wine and laugh about the past, but that’s it. Good help is hard to find, and so is the position he holds. The situation is ideal for both of us.”

  Ruby loved Stefano, but it was a love borne of mutual respect and friendship. He had no remaining family, and she had little, except for Ariana and her mother. She’d made sure to include Stefano in her will and provide for his retirement.

  Besides, there had always been someone else in her heart.

  Matteo held the rear door open for Ruby, and she slid into the cushy seat, gracefully lifting her legs together and swinging them into the car as her acting coach had taught her so many years ago. One simply didn’t forget those lessons.

  While Matteo loaded their luggage in the trunk, Ruby stretched out her legs.

  “But you enjoy Stefano’s company,” Ariana said. “That’s a big plus in a marriage.”

  Ruby patted Ariana’s hand. “After the passion wanes in a marriage, what remains are companionship, common goals, and family. Or so I’m told.” Ruby opened her purse and slipped on a pair of dark designer sunglasses to shield against the sun and painful memories.

  “Do you regret never marrying, Auntie?”

  Ruby gazed at Ariana for a long moment. “I had my opportunities.”

  Ariana went on. “Like who?”

  Ruby sighed. “The son of a rancher who owned an adjoining property in Texas who wouldn’t tolerate my desire for a career of any kind,” she said, ticking off her fingers. “A handsome costar with a hidden alcohol addiction. A younger screenwriter who only wanted me to produce his work.”

  “That sounds dismal. Wasn’t there anyone special?”

  Oh, yes, Ruby thought, though she shook her head. “There was the sweet physician who looked after me when I got a parasite from a mosquito while filming in a jungle near New Orleans—the same location where the Tarzan movies were filmed. Though he fearlessly nursed me through malaria, Hollywood intimidated him. He opted for a small practice in Mammoth Lakes, California, where he immediately fell in love with his nurse, and they skied the slopes happily ever after.”

  None of them compared to what Ruby had felt for Niccolò. But she couldn’t talk about him. Not yet, anyway.

  “I wonder if my parents were ever in love.” Ariana opened her purse and withdrew a little pot of lip gloss. “In Mom’s case, it’s just work, work, and more work. I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t arrange time off for my wedding.” She dabbed a glossy sheen onto her lips and pressed them together.

  Ruby heard the hurt, anger, and disappointment in Ariana’s voice. Once again, when Ariana needed her mother, Mari wasn’t there. Ruby had hurried to place another call to her before they left Palm Springs, but Mari hadn’t returned her call.

  As a child, Mari had been abrupt and unyielding, too. Even Patricia, her sainted sister, had hardly been able to handle the unruly child, yet she took the challenge in stride.

  Ruby smiled at Ariana. “Someday, your mother might get another chance to attend your wedding.”

  Ariana shook her head. “Not for a long time, if ever. Honestly, I’ve had it with men.”

  “There’s a difference between closing your heart and being selective,” Ruby said.

  “I’m going to be awfully busy for the next seven months.” Ariana ran a hand over her forehead. “How will I manage everything?”

  “Plenty of people do.”

  “You never had to.”

  Contemplating this, Ruby smoothed a finger over a vein in her hand. “Each of us has a different journey.” She felt Ariana’s quizzical gaze on her. “You’re stronger than you know.”

  Matteo shut the trunk and took his place behind the wheel. “Are you in a hurry, Signora?”

  “Let’s take the scenic route,” Ruby said, eager to change the subject. “This is my niece’s first visit.” Ruby could feel the energy pulsating in the air. She loved Milan, but the airport was northwest of the city, and her beloved Lake Como awaited them. Another day, she thought.

  Ruby eased back in the seat. Once Ariana saw Lake Como and Bellagio—and especially Varenna—she would be in a better frame of mind to receive what Ruby had to share with her. Not right away, of course. Ariana needed a little time to relax and process the twin shocks to her world, although in Ruby’s mind, both were positive.

  Phillip gone, check. Baby on the way, double-check.

  Ruby rubbed her temple. If only she could figure out a way to bring Mari here, too. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was imperative that Ariana and Mari heal their rift before the baby arrived. Ruby understood the pain of a fragmented family.

  “I’d like to visit Milan, too,” Ariana said, peering from the window. “It’s one of the fashion capitals of the world. When a film budget allows, I often order fabric for costumes from a supplier in Milan. They have such beautiful silks.”

  “Scusi, Signorina,” Matteo said, glancing in the review mirror. “You’ll find beautiful silk and clothes around Lago di Como, too. Silk production has been a Como specialty for centuries—ever since the Duca de Milano established the silk industry there.”

  “Really?” Ariana asked, leaning forward, her expression brightening.

  Matteo’s voice rose with pride and passion. “Today, Ratti, Frey, Mantero, and Clerici produce exquisite silk—scarves, clothing, tapestries. Our companies supply the finest silk to the couture trade.” He gestured with pride. “All over the world, there is none better than Como silk.”

  “How are you so knowledgeable about fashion?” Ariana asked, looking interested.

  “In Como, beauty is part of our heritage. My wife is a talented textile designer,” he said as he pulled away from the curb and into the airport traffic. “And we have a boutique in Bellagio.”

  “Then we must visit your shop,” Ruby said. Glancing at her niece, pride swelled in her chest. “Ariana, I still get so many compliments on that black silk cape you designed for me.”

  “If you’re a designer, you must visit the production facilities,” Matteo said. “All the best design houses come here. Versace, Missoni, Armani, Prada, and Ferragamo.”

  “I’ve been designing costumes for years,” Ariana said, taking in the city as they left the airport. “I work at one of the studios in Hollywood.”

  “Like your famous aunt,” Matteo said, navigating through traffic. “I am twice privileged to serve you ladies.”

  “I don’t work much anymore,” Ruby said. The rigors of a starring role—and the subsequent promotions and appearance—had become tiring to her. Though she still relished cameo roles and unique opportunities. She’d invested her earnings well; now, she worked for pleasure. She patted Ariana’s knee. “But Ariana could be anything she wanted to be.”

  “Aunt Ruby, don’t be silly,” Ariana said, bristling at the comment. “I’m not ten years old anymore.”

  “My advice hasn’t changed. Your job will be awfully demanding with a little one.” Ruby quickly changed her tone. “Not that you couldn’t manage, of course. Your mother certainly did. But maybe there is a more pleasant way of living.”

  Matteo’s phone rang. “Scusi,” he said, and he tapped his earpiece. He spoke softly into his headset. “Prego?”

  Ariana gazed out the window. “It’s not like I could change my world overnight.”

  “Of course not.” Ruby smiled. “We have a whole month.”

  When Ariana started to protest, Ruby held up her hand. “If you tell me how terribly old you are again, or how your options are limited, I’ll have Matteo turn this car around, and I’ll send you back to the States. Time is relative. We might have a day, a year, or decades left. The beauty of not knowing means anything is open to us—if we have courage and creativity. Liv
e and do what you want right now, at this very moment in time. Because it will never, ever come again.” She choked a little on her last words as she thought of Niccolò.

  Ruby pulled a handkerchief from her purse. Even as she had cherished her time with Niccolò, she hadn’t dreamed it would prove so fleeting. The tragedy of their union shaded her outlook on love for the rest of her life. No one had ever compared with Niccolò.

  Instantly, Ariana looked stricken. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She reached out to clasp her aunt’s hand. “Aunt Ruby, are you feeling well?”

  Ruby dabbed the corners of her eyes, studiously ignoring her question. “It hurts me when you sound so defeated.” If only she could make Ariana understand. Gazing into Ariana’s bright green eyes, she spoke again, more forcefully this time. “Life can change in a moment. You can change it. You must grasp the tremendous power your decisions have in your life.” Realizing the tight grip she had on Ariana’s hand, she released it.

  When Ruby had left Italy so many years ago, she had been sure she would see the man she loved again. Ever since then, she’d thought of everything she wished she’d said. If only she could have seen Niccolò just once more. How different her life would have been. Everyone’s life, for that matter.

  In ways known only to her, Ruby had made a mess of her life. Her most fervent desire was to make sure Ariana didn’t. She let out a soft sigh. So many important life decisions were flung at people when they were young and inexperienced—and far too trusting. At least Ariana wasn’t as young as Ruby had been.

  Ruby was determined to set things right now.

  As the countryside slipped past, Ruby reached out to Ariana. “I’m proud of your decision about Phillip.”

  “I might not like to hear it, but I can always count on you to tell me the truth.” Ariana shook her head. “Imagine what Mom is going to say.”

  “You still haven’t spoken to her?”

  Ariana shook her head. “I wasn’t in the mood to hear her gloat or remind me how the trip would’ve been a waste of her time.”

  “It’s never a waste of time to support those we love when they need us,” Ruby said. Even when they don’t realize it, she thought.

  They grew quiet, taking in the views. As they climbed into lush, verdant hills, Ruby waited for the first view of the lake.

  “There it is,” Ruby cried. “Matteo, please pull over when you can. I want Ariana to take this all in.”

  “Si, Signora.”

  A few moments later, Matteo pulled off the road, and Ruby and Ariana stepped from the car.

  “Here she is,” Ruby said, filling her lungs with fresh air and linking arms with Ariana. “Just imagine…for centuries this view and this region have captured the hearts of artists, writers, and musicians.”

  From their position high above the lake, the view was breathtaking. Deep, sapphire-blue water lapped the hillside footings. Lush green mountains soared behind sherbet-colored villages and stately villas tucked against the shoreline. Boats skimmed across the surface, parting the water and leaving streamers in their wake.

  Ruby watched Ariana’s reaction.

  Her niece pressed her hand to her chest and sighed. “Now I understand why you wanted me to come here. Photos can’t capture all of this.”

  Ariana didn’t really understand yet, but in time she would. Ruby opened her arms to the broad vista as if to bring it all into her heart. There were few afflictions worse than broken hearts that had never healed.

  If anything could heal her, she would find it here.

  For now, Ruby smiled to herself in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to tell Ariana about her surprise.

  Chapter 5

  Rome, 1952

  * * *

  “Places, everyone,” an assistant director called out, and Ruby hurried to her designated spot. Hundreds of people had gathered around the avenue in Rome, where the filming of a brief café scene would take place. Despite the pervasive heat, happy chatter and laughter floated across the crowd.

  Ruby sat at a table outside the café, surreptitiously dabbing perspiration from her upper lip. For the actors and crew from California, the summer heat in Rome was stifling, but having grown up in Texas, she was more acclimated.

  Niccolò slid into the chair across from her. “Buongiorno.”

  Ruby suppressed a laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the other table?”

  “I switched.” He took her hand. “I don’t trust that Vespa scooter. I need to protect you.”

  “They’ve choreographed that part. We’ll be fine.”

  “No, no, no, no.” He shook his head, then tapped his temple. “You see, I know things.”

  “Excuse me?” Ruby extricated her hand from his. “That’s spooky. Don’t kid with me.”

  He dropped his voice to whisper. “No, really. I know I can trust you. Sometimes, before things happen, you know?”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, stop. Now you’re acting creepy. The good Lord will strike you down for saying that.” She shrugged and flipped the scarf that David, the wardrobe assistant, had tied around her neck.

  Niccolò’s eyebrows drew up like her old hound dog’s when she threatened to put him outside on a rainy night. He looked genuinely hurt. “You’re teasing me now,” she said. “Or you’re a better actor than I thought.”

  “I’m an excellent actor. But I’m not acting.” He reached for her hand again.

  The couple stationed at the table next to them frowned at them. “Shh. Mr. Wyler is watching you. We’re about to begin.”

  “Oh, swell.” Ruby flicked his hand away. “Don’t get me in trouble. I need this job.” The director, William Wyler, liked people who were prompt and prepared, like Audrey Hepburn, who was always on time and knew her lines. Ruby was trying to emulate her.

  Niccolò pulled his hand back, but he continued to stare at her. A smile touched his lips, and his eyes were as blue and bright as the sky.

  Ruby couldn’t look at him for fear her heart would burst through the thin cotton shift she wore.

  Since the evening Niccolò had taken her to see Aida, they’d spent most of their free time together. On set, it was often a hurry-up-and-wait proposition, so they’d had a lot of time to talk and play cards.

  Many of the cast passed the time playing gin rummy, including Gregory Peck, Audrey Hepburn, and her fiancée James. They often gathered around the outdoor, marble-topped tables at Caffè Greco on the Via Condotti. Crowds collected just to watch them. And Audrey clearly loved her fans. She joked with them, signed autographs, and even turned cartwheels for fun.

  Most of all, Ruby loved talking to Niccolò and sharing their plans for the future. And then, when the cameras were rolling, it was magical to think that they were being captured on film that would someday be shown around the world.

  “Ready on the set,” the assistant director called out. “This take is to confirm the route the Vespa will take.”

  Mr. Wyler called out, “Action.”

  Niccolò and Ruby bent their heads together, murmuring silly things to look like they were having a real conversation over coffee.

  Ruby heard the whine of the Vespa behind them. They weren’t to look at it until it reached them, and then they were to leap from their chairs. Some extras would be shocked, while others would yell or gesture. Ruby thought it would be so much fun to ride the scooter around the city like Princess Ann in the story, played by Audrey, was supposed to do. Only she’d want Niccolò with her.

  Niccolò had positioned himself across from her instead of beside her. He looked up from under his dark eyebrows.

  “Don’t look into the camera,” Ruby whispered. “Act natural.”

  At once, the whirring engine noise was upon them. The Vespa, driven by a stuntman, accelerated and jumped the curb.

  Niccolò’s eyes grew large, and his lips parted in shock. Before Ruby could say a word, he’d leapt across the table and pulled her toward him. They tumbled onto the ground, where they landed in a
heap.

  Screams erupted behind them as the scooter slid out of control. “Watch out,” people yelled, diving out of the way of the careening scooter.

  Ruby glanced back. The chair she’d been sitting in was on its side. One leg was broken.

  “Oh, my stars,” she said shakily.

  Niccolò held her in his arms. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.” Other extras helped her to her feet and brushed dirt from her skirt and blouse.

  Mr. Wyler hurried to her. “How are you, my dear?”

  “Just shaken,” Ruby said to the director. Mr. Wyler had never spoken directly to her before.

  He took her hand and held it. “If you need a doctor, I can call one.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Inclining his head, he said, “You’re playing the part of an American reporter, aren’t you?”

  Ruby was impressed that with all the people on the set, the director knew her little part. “Yes, sir. And I’m so excited to be here.”

  “Where are you from, miss…?”

  “Ruby. Ruby Raines,” she replied, offering her hand. “I’m from Texas.”

  Shaking her hand, Mr. Wyler seemed to take in every feature on her face as if cataloging her for future reference. “I can hear a slight accent in your voice now. And you’re quite tall. Very interesting.”

  Ruby gave him a gracious smile. She’d been trading elocution lessons for horseback riding lessons with a fine, top-drawer lady from Connecticut who’d married one of their neighbors a couple of ranches over. Carol Clarkson had been afraid of horses but was determined to learn to ride, while Ruby had nearly swooned at the woman’s elegant manner of speaking. All rounded vowels and full endings on words, just like a movie star.

  And it’s paying off, Ruby thought, thrilled to be speaking with Mr. Wyler, the director of Mrs. Miniver and The Best Years of Our Lives, some of her favorite dramas.