Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

  Ariana peered over the rim of her coffee cup. “Is Matteo taking you?”

  “Alessandro is picking me up. Do come with us.” As soon as she mentioned his name, she saw Ariana bristle. She still wondered what had happened between them. Alessandro hadn’t said a word, and Ariana refused to talk about him. “We’re going to visit his friend, a wine distributor in Lecco, and have lunch along the way.”

  As if on cue, a motorboat sounded outside. Alessandro cut the engine and moored the boat. He stepped off the craft.

  Ruby rose and opened the door to the terrace. “Come in for a coffee,” she called out, feeling Ariana’s glare on her back.

  “Buongiorno.” Alessandro walked in, looking quite smart in linen trousers, deck shoes, and a blue twill shirt.

  Ariana abruptly stood to leave the kitchen.

  Ruby cleared her throat. “Aren’t you going to say hello to Alessandro?”

  Ariana threw him a begrudging look. “Fine. Hello again.”

  “I hope your design work is going well,” he said, his face lighting at the sight of Ariana.

  “It’s fine,” Ariana shot back. “And how are Paolina and the children?”

  Ruby noted that Ariana’s voice had a sarcastic edge that took Alessandro by surprise, What’s wrong with her? Ruby wondered.

  “My sister is doing well; thank you for asking. She’s looking after the children today.”

  Ariana’s eyes widened. “Paolina is your sister?”

  “Our father left the business to us, so we co-manage the silk factory.”

  “I thought…” Ariana’s face reddened, and she turned away.

  At once, Ruby realized what had happened. “Paolina is such a lovely woman, and she’s so good with the children. I would think some people might mistake her for your wife.”

  Alessandro chuckled and glanced at Ariana. “Maybe they do.”

  “I think I have work to do,” Ariana mumbled, sloshing coffee into her cup.

  Ruby ignored her. “And I can only imagine how difficult it must be raising children on your own.” Why was Ariana continuing to be so rude to him?

  Ariana paused with the ceramic creamer in mid-air.

  “These last two years have been tough, but life goes on.” Alessandro spread his hands. “They’re good kids, thanks to Serafina.”

  Ariana put the creamer down with a thud on the tile counter. “So you’re divorced,” she spat out in an accusatory tone.

  Ruby saw Alessandro’s forehead crinkle. “Forgive my niece,” she said, appalled at Ariana’s behavior. “As Americans, we can be frightfully direct. And sometimes we forget our manners.” She sent a piercing glance toward Ariana, who should have known better. What on earth was wrong with her today? This behavior was beyond hormones. Ruby knew the difference.

  “My wife, Serafina, died two years ago last week,” Alessandro said quietly. “It was a painful shock, but our little children, Sandro and Carmela, were hurt the worst.”

  “It’s hard to lose the people we love,” Ruby said gently. “Perhaps we should go now. The fresh air on the lake will do us good.” She glanced back at Ariana. “And I will see you for dinner.” Without giving her niece the chance to change her mind, Ruby swept off with Alessandro.

  As Alessandro helped her into his boat, she said, “What a beautiful craft. I remember these.”

  “It’s a vintage Riva yacht,” he said. “This beauty is from 1951. Took me several years to restore it.”

  The polished wood gleamed in the sunshine. Once she was comfortable on a cushioned bench, he fired the engine. “How long has it been since you’ve been on the lake?” he asked.

  “Far too long,” Ruby replied. “I last visited during the filming of Roman Holiday. And I think I rode in a yacht just like this.” She smiled. “That was the best time of my life.”

  “Then you must have been in love,” Alessandro said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Life is sweeter when you’re in love.”

  Ruby nodded thoughtfully. “You’re a young man to be so wise.”

  The breeze swept his dark, glossy hair from his forehead, and he chuckled. “Not that young.”

  Ruby slid on a pair of sunglasses. “Yes, I was in love then.” She liked the way he spoke so openly about love—and his love for his children.

  “And what happened?” he asked quietly. “Did you marry?”

  Ruby hesitated. Alessandro was so easy to talk to. Finally, she said, “I haven’t been lucky in love.”

  “So, no children?”

  Ruby gazed out at the lake. Today the water was a brilliant shade of shimmering blue and nearly blinding in the sunlight. “This is why Ariana and I are so close. She’s like my granddaughter. If only her mother weren’t so stubborn. Even on the best days, she’s tough on Ariana.”

  Nodding thoughtfully, Alessandro adjusted his sunglasses. “Is that why Ariana was upset today?”

  He was perceptive, but his guess was off the mark. “A week ago, Ariana was preparing for her wedding and honeymoon. Instead, she left her fiancé at the altar—which I must say, showed tremendously good judgment.” She didn’t think it necessary to mention the baby.

  “And how did her mother and father take her decision to call off her wedding?”

  “Her father is out of the picture, and her mother didn’t have time to attend.”

  At that, Alessandro shook his head. “That’s terrible. I feel so bad for her, but it certainly explains Ariana’s attitude. Is she angry at all men?”

  “I hadn’t thought so, but maybe she is. She’s not usually so sharp-tongued.”

  Alessandro steered the yacht through the open waters toward another shore. “When I asked her out, she, how do you say—I think the term is, she chewed me up. I bungled the invitation. I haven’t asked a woman out since Serafina died.”

  “At least you tried.” Ruby thought about the look of disappointment on Ariana’s face when they left. “Maybe you’ll have another chance.”

  Alessandro shook his head and shrugged. “No disrespect to you, but I have to protect my heart, too.”

  He raised his hand in greeting to another boat owner who was pulling away from a dock. Alessandro pulled alongside it and moored the yacht. Before them stretched the comune of Lecco.

  After helping Ruby disembark, Alessandro told her about the area. “Some of the best wine in this region of Lombardia come from Montevecchia. If you don’t mind walking, we can have lunch and then visit the wine shop.”

  They strolled on the lakeside promenade under the watchful bell tower of Basilica di San Niccolò, which made Ruby smile. Everything reminded her of Niccolò. Alessandro went on to tell her about the secret tunnels and caves under the tower.

  The cobblestone streets were narrow, and a mountain rose behind the bell tower. They had lunch overlooking the lake, and afterward, Alessandro introduced her to his cousin, who helped them select an assortment of local wines for the afternoon party. Ruby also arranged a large delivery to stock her wine room. She chose wines from Montevecchia and across Lombardia, as well as the neighboring Piemonte region.

  “I’ve enjoyed this day so much,” Ruby said to Alessandro on the way back.

  If only Ariana hadn’t been in such a mood, because Ruby would have liked her to join them. Alessandro was such a joy to be around.

  Ruby smiled to herself. Maybe tomorrow at the party she’d have another chance to bring them together.

  Chapter 12

  Lago di Como, 1952

  * * *

  By mid-August, the heat in Rome was growing increasingly insufferable for the cast. Filming was done early in the morning and later in the evening with a long break for lunch during the hottest part of the day. One day, Mr. Wyler told the cast that filming would halt for the Ferragosto holiday. The director and his family went to the beach resort of Fregene to enjoy the ocean breezes.

  “Let’s go north,” Niccolò said, his eyes glowing with excitement. “I want to show you Lago di Com
o, one of the most beautiful lakes in the world.”

  “How far is it?” Ruby asked, remembering the painting she’d admired.

  “We can take an overnight train and be there by morning. We can stay with my aunt and uncle. You’re up for an adventure, aren’t you?”

  “Only if you’re paying,” she said. She’d sent most of her pay home to her family.

  Yet the timing was perfect. Ruby’s brief scene had already been filmed, so she could relax a little. She was still on the schedule for the general crowd scenes.

  An hour later, Ruby tucked a couple of cotton shirts with a skirt and cropped pants into a small bag, slid her feet into the espadrilles she’d bought at the Olvera Street market in Los Angeles, and hurried from her room at the pensione.

  She and Niccolò raced to the train station, which Ruby found overwhelming with so many trains and platforms and names of cities she didn’t recognize. High overhead, destinations rotated and clicked into place. Everything was new and thrilling to her; she felt like they were in a film of their own.

  “Due biglietti per Milano, per favore.” Niccolò slid lire across the counter.

  Ruby furrowed her brow. “Milano? I thought we were going to Lago di Como.”

  “We’ll change trains in Milano for Lago di Como,” Niccolò said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  She smiled and slipped her hand into his. She could trust him.

  “Hurry, we can’t miss the train. Andiamo.” He took her hand, and they raced through the crowd with Niccolò shouting out, “Scusi, scusi.”

  She laughed as the crowd parted for them, with people cheering for them as they jumped onto the train, barely making it. They hung on, waving at the crowd as if he were Gregory Peck and she were Audrey Hepburn. And when Niccolò kissed her, shouts of bravo reverberated through the station.

  Ruby felt adrenaline surge through her; every nerve in her body was tingling with exhilaration. This is living. This is love. She never wanted any other life than this one.

  “Come on, let’s have some antipasti in the dining car,” Niccolò said.

  They wedged inside the crowded car, where they drank bubbly prosecco and ate prosciutto and cheese with crusty bread and olives. Ruby thought it was one of the finest meals she’d ever had.

  Against the setting sun, Ruby watched the countryside hurtle by, entranced by the ever-changing landscape of rolling vineyards and postcard-perfect villages.

  She was so excited to be exploring Italy with Niccolò that she could hardly sleep on the train. Instead, they stayed awake, whispering and sharing stories of their lives and families and aspirations. Niccolò had such a good heart, and he told her of his plans to help his family, such as helping his siblings go to university. His father earned a decent living, but with four children, they still had to economize.

  As Ruby listened, her heart filled with admiration and love for him. Surely her father would agree that Niccolò was a young man of the highest character.

  More than that, Ruby was convinced that Niccolò was her soulmate.

  They changed trains in Milano, and by the time they arrived in Varenna, the sun had crested the alpine ridge. Ruby was in awe. She stepped off the train at the small station and drank in the scent of honeysuckle that tumbled along a stone wall. Niccolò led her down narrow cobblestone streets to the edge of the lake.

  “And there it is,” Niccolò said, speaking in a reverent tone. “Isn’t this a marvelous view?”

  Ruby leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad you brought me here.”

  She had never seen terrain like this—except in the pages of National Geographic magazines in the mobile library van that visited the county once a month.

  Spinning around to take in the view, she felt dizzy with sensory overload. Tall cypress trees, swaying palms, and leafy mulberry trees lined the banks. Standing here with a vast, crystalline lake lapping at her toes and snow-capped peaks rising majestically from the water’s edge to kiss the sky was a dream come true.

  “I want to show you everything I love here,” Niccolò said, pointing across the lake. “There’s Bellagio on that triangular tip—we’ll go there—and there’s the ferry we’ll take, and we’ll have the finest food you’ve ever tasted.” He spun her around. “And up there, that castle, Castello di Vezio. We’ll explore that, too.”

  “Does anyone live there?”

  Niccolò shook his head. “It was built a thousand years ago for Teodolinda, the queen of Lombardia. Some say she still walks the grounds.”

  Ruby slapped his shoulder and laughed. “I’m not going to a haunted castle.”

  “It’s only a little bit haunted,” he said with a chuckle. “The villa that belongs to my aunt and uncle is not far from here. It’s an easy walk, and you can meet them and my cousins.”

  He slung her bag over his shoulder, and they set off along a narrow lane. Stone walls rose steeply from the road, and mountains soared behind hillside homes. Golden butterflies flitted among azaleas and ferns as they walked, and Niccolò told her about how his mother’s family shared the small villa. Her elder brother inherited it, but it was for the entire family to enjoy when they visited.

  Soon they turned onto a lane lined with oleander trees festooned with blazing pink flowers. The road led to a stone villa perched on a hill that sloped to the lake. All around them, roses bloomed in profusion, spilling over stone walls and climbing a sun-bleached pergola in wild abandon.

  “Here, you can step outside the villa and enjoy a feast,” Niccolò said. He pointed out a variety of trees surrounding the house. “We have pomegranate, fig, chestnut, and olive trees. And over there is the citrus orchard with lemon, mandarin orange, citron, and grapefruit.”

  “I love the thought of that,” Ruby said. Although it was too cold in the Texas hill country to grow much citrus, she loved the ruby red grapefruit shipped from McAllen near the Mexican border. All around her, the sweet scent of citrus blossoms perfumed the air. As they passed under an archway laden with purple wisteria, Niccolò slipped his arm around her waist, and Ruby thought this was the most romantic place she’d ever visited.

  “Italy is such a beautiful country,” Niccolò said. “We’re spoiled. Long stretches of beaches, the rolling hills of Tuscany, the islands off our coastline, and this…a deep, clear lake filled with fish, and mountains topped with snow. Does Texas have anything like this?”

  Ruby shook her head. “It’s a different, rugged sort of beauty. We’re in the hill country in the middle of the state. We have lakes, but we also have plains that stretch on forever. We have ancient oak trees, the sweetest pecans, and the meanest rattlesnakes. Rivers and streams that you can fish in and swimming holes where you can strip down on a hot day to cool off. It gets blistering hot in the summer, so we move the beds onto the screened-in porch where we sleep in the night breezes.”

  “We have many types of winds here, too,” Niccolò said. “The gentle Tivano early in the morning from the north, and the stronger Breva just before noon from the south, among others. I’d like to see Texas sometime. I want to meet your parents and ride horses with you. It sounds like a John Wayne western film. Do you wear holsters and carry guns?”

  “My grandpa did, but it’s not what you think now,” she said, laughing. “Still, we set up tin cans on the wooden fence for target practice. Out there, sometimes your life depends on your ability to shoot. You can’t sweet-talk a hungry mountain lion.”

  Niccolò looked impressed. “Hollywood must be pretty different. Playground of the stars, right?”

  “You’ve been reading too many fan magazines.” Ruby thought about the mild climate, palm trees that rustled in the breeze, and kids her age who spent weekends at the beach. “But I’m there to work, not play.”

  “Do you go to the beach and surf?”

  She laughed. “I’ve been once, but I didn’t surf. I work as much as I can.”

  “And what are the guys like there?”

  “Nothing like you.”
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  Niccolò grinned. “I saw Marlon Brando in Streetcar Named Desire.” He gave her a brooding frown and tucked a thumb into a belt loop, mimicking Brando. “And Gene Kelly in An American in Paris. Wow, the way he dances.” He did a fancy step and twirled her around. “People say Paris isn’t like that, but I haven’t been there. Have you ever met Frank Sinatra? His family is from Italy, you know. Liguria and Sicily. Oh man, what a voice.”

  Just as he began to sing, I’m a Fool to Want You, Ruby burst out laughing. “I think you’re going to be a great actor.”

  “I want to travel the world with you. We’ll see everything there is to see.” He took her in his arms. “Will you do that with me?”

  “I’d love to,” she murmured. Niccolò’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  Bending toward her, he teased her lips with his, brushing against her cheeks, smoothing a hand over her hair. Every nerve in her body tingled with delight at his touch. Compared to the clumsy pawing efforts of the boys she’d met at dances, Niccolò’s touch was gentle and respectful. They came together naturally—two halves of a perfect union.

  “Cuore mio,” he murmured, dragging his lips along her neck.

  Here, under the wisteria, the sun dappling their shoulders, Ruby yearned to tell Niccolò she loved him. Surely he already knew; surely he felt as she did.

  She’d never dreamed she would fall in love in Italy. Closing her eyes, she knew her life would never be the same again. Niccolò was her destiny; she knew that as certainly as she knew her heart would beat from one moment to the next.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said, his voice sounding thick.

  Niccolò knocked, but there was no answer. His mother had given him a key, which he slipped into the old lock. Pushing open the door, he called out, but his voice only echoed in response.

  Niccolò dropped their bags and led her into the kitchen, where propped against a wine bottle was a note. He read it. “They’ve gone to Como, but we’re welcome to use the villa.” He turned to her. “We have the place to ourselves.”