Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

  “Not at all. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Other than an apology.”

  He grinned. “You already did that. And I thank you.” With a quick little bow, he turned to walk away.

  “Wait.” Ariana tucked her windblown hair behind her ears. Why does he have to be so attractive?

  “Yes?”

  “I, uh, appreciate your fabric suggestions.” Ariana stumbled over her words. “You know, we could start over.”

  He shrugged. “Not if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “I’m okay. Really. It’s just that, well, it’s been a week from hell.” When he didn’t reply, she went on. “I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon right now, but I didn’t go through with the wedding.”

  “I’m very sorry for you.”

  “No, don’t be. It was my decision. And I’m fine with it.” She blinked into the breeze, feeling more confident of her choice now that she spoke it aloud.

  Alessandro nodded. “It takes a strong will to know when a relationship isn’t right.”

  “A marriage is forever, right?”

  “Ideally, yes, but…” Alessandro coughed and cleared his throat.

  At once, Ariana realized her mistake, and another apology tumbled out. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” How could she have been so thoughtless?

  Swallowing hard, he shook his head. “If it weren’t for Serafina, I wouldn’t have Sandro and Carmela now. That is how I have to look at the situation. People come into our lives for different reasons. What we want and what God has planned for us…well, it’s often different. What good would it do to question that?” He gazed after his children. “Especially when I am so blessed. Serafina would not have wanted me to suffer.”

  Ariana grew quiet, watching the children. She wondered how his wife had died, but now was not the time to ask.

  Moments later, Sandro and Carmela raced to their father and flung their arms around him, chattering with excitement. She tried to follow along, and although it had been quite a long time since she’d take Italian in school, she discovered that she understood some of what they were saying. Maybe she could practice her Italian while she was here.

  “They’re hungry,” Alessandro said, grinning. “Kids are always hungry.”

  Carmela tugged on Ariana’s skirt and turned her sweet little face up to her. “Ho fame e sete.”

  Fame. Hungry. Sete. Thirsty. Ariana took the little girl’s hand. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get them something to drink and make a plate for them. Is there anything they can’t eat? Because of allergies, I mean.”

  “No, and they like almost everything. I’ll help you.” Alessandro guided his young son toward the kitchen.

  As Ariana led the children into the house, she caught Ruby’s eye. Seemingly satisfied, her aunt turned back to the conversation. Ariana had to admit that Ruby was right. Hiding in her room wasn’t a solution.

  Ariana arranged sliced tomatoes, sweet peppers, cucumbers, cheese, and bread onto plates for the children. Within minutes, they were happily eating at the kitchen table, swinging their little legs.

  “They seem like such sweet children,” Ariana said.

  Alessandro smiled. “I’m lucky. They’re good kids.”

  Before long, Livia began to put out the main meal. An assortment of antipasti, several types of salad and soup, pasta, fresh fish, and meatballs. Everyone gathered around the tables that Emilio and Livia had organized outside on the terrace.

  Ruby pulled out a chair for Ariana across from Alessandro, so she could hardly escape him, but after they’d talked on the terrace, she no longer minded. Once everyone began eating and toasting, Ariana relaxed and enjoyed herself.

  “Will you visit Lago di Como often?” Alessandro asked.

  “She might never leave,” Ruby interjected. “Who would want to leave this gorgeous place?”

  Ariana shook her head. “I have to return to work, Aunt Ruby. While I still can.”

  “Do you love your work?” Alessandro asked.

  Lacing her fingers, Ariana thought about that. “I like the idea of what I do. But the person I work for isn’t very nice. And it’s not that he’s tough, though he’s that, too. He’s petty and vindictive.”

  Ariana thought about the time Kingsley had fired a pregnant colleague because he thought her pregnancy would interfere with her work. He decided to give the job to a friend of his. When Human Resources told him it was an illegal termination and insisted that he hire the woman again, he did, but he proceeded to make her life as miserable as he could. He demeaned her, told her that she was no longer attractive, and required longer hours of her than others. Ariana often stayed, and after Kingsley left, she sent her colleague home and finished her work. Ariana shuddered as she imagined what Kingsley would do to her once she told him she was pregnant.

  Thinking about returning to work for Kingsley lessened Ariana’s appetite. She put down her fork. “Allowing for flight time, I have to return in less than three weeks.”

  “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Alessandro asked.

  Ariana glanced around the lively scene full of excellent food and fascinating people. The wine was flowing, though she was drinking water, and she’d laughed more today than she could recall in months. And surprisingly—or not—the attacks she’d been having for so long hadn’t seemed to bother her here.

  “I wish I could,” Ariana said.

  Ruby smiled. “We still have a lot to do here.”

  Alessandro picked up a bottle of wine on the table and offered Ruby more. After she nodded, he poured a little and then turned to Ariana and the empty wine glass before her.

  Ariana swiftly covered the glass with her hand. “None for me.”

  “You don’t like the wine?” Alessandro asked.

  “I didn’t feel like drinking today,” Ariana said, which was partly true. The thought of drinking alcohol wasn’t at all appealing to her, even though she loved wine. She’d lost her taste for it, although she’d noticed she was craving other foods.

  After they finished eating, the adults sat and talked while the children played in the garden. Everyone seemed so at ease enjoying the day and each other’s company.

  Glancing at his watch, Alessandro said, “I lost track of time. I’m sorry to break up a good party, but we should go while it’s still daylight.” He motioned to Paolina and her husband.

  After thanking Ruby and saying goodbye to everyone, Alessandro led his children onto the vintage wooden yacht. Paolina and her husband were getting them settled on the craft when Alessandro stepped back onto the dock. He gestured to Ariana and hurried toward her.

  “I’ll be meeting a client nearby tomorrow,” Alessandro said. “When I’m free, would you have time to have coffee?” He named a time.

  Although starting a relationship with Alessandro was definitely against her better judgment, she’d enjoyed talking with him today. And it was just coffee. “I’d like that,” she said, feeling Ruby’s eyes on her.

  His eyes lit with delight. “I’ll call you,” he said, touching her hand before he left.

  Ariana gazed after Alessandro. Once he was underway, she lifted her hand, waving at him and his children. Little Carmela waved the longest, and Ariana blew kisses to the little girl, who joyfully returned them. Ariana waved until they were out of sight.

  As she walked into the house, she wondered why she’d been so quick to accept Alessandro’s invitation. It was a waste of time—hers and his. At the thought of that, a sense of disappointment rippled through her. Perhaps she should tell him about her pregnancy, but she didn’t want his pity. What was the harm in having a friendship with him?

  Ruby caught up with her. “You’re seeing Alessandro again?”

  “It’s just one cup of coffee,” Ariana said firmly. “I know what you’re doing, but it won’t work. I’ll soon be back in Los Angeles.” She had to be practical now. Still, as she glanced back at the wake Alessandro’s boat left in the lake, she felt a twinge
of sadness. Why couldn’t she have found someone like him instead of Phillip?

  Chapter 14

  Lago di Como, 2010

  * * *

  Ruby glanced at the calendar on the desk in front of the window in her bedroom. “Less than three weeks,” she said, catching the scent of the creamy white roses she loved that Livia had placed on the desk. Ruby didn’t have much time left with Ariana here. Her niece was still determined to return to Los Angeles.

  Ruby took a sheet of stationery from the drawer and picked up her pen. Mari. What could she say to bring her here?

  Gazing across the lake, Ruby thought about her sister. Watching Patricia’s memory and essence slip away had been so painful that it was almost a relief when she’d finally died. Yet Ruby still missed her. Throughout life, her big sister had always been there, one step ahead of her.

  Ruby couldn’t blame Mari for distancing herself from her mother. They’d had a tempestuous relationship as it was. Once Patricia was diagnosed, Ruby suspected that Mari’s guilt was more than she could bear.

  Fearing that she wouldn’t have the capacity to put her affairs in order if she waited, the ever pragmatic Patricia had tended to almost all the details of her life. She’d asked Ruby to find a care home for her when she could no longer live on her own. Ruby had done so, covering all her sister’s expenses and sparing nothing. She wanted Patricia to be as comfortable as she could be.

  Yet Patricia had left the most important task to Ruby. The first anniversary of Patricia’s death was almost upon them, and Ruby decided she could wait no longer.

  Ruby put down her pen and picked up the safety deposit key she’d been carrying. The executor of Patricia’s will had given it to her months ago. Turning it over in her hand, she thought of what the box might contain. Patricia had been very clear about her instructions. Ruby glanced at the letter the executor sent her, though she knew it well.

  Ruby is to decide when—and if—Mari is to receive the contents.

  Only Mari can access the contents.

  Mari must access the box alone.

  What Mari decides to do after that is her decision.

  Ruby had to swear—in writing to Patricia and the attorney who was acting as the executor—not to question Mari. While Ruby didn’t agree with this approach, she had promised her sister. In many ways, Ruby owed her success to Patricia. And so much more.

  The only thing Patricia would say is that she was leaving a letter for Mari.

  She would abide by Patricia’s wishes. If Mari wanted to talk about the letter or whatever else was in the safety deposit box, it would be her choice. Not Ruby’s.

  However, that didn’t mean that Ruby couldn’t provide the opportunity for Mari to unburden herself.

  Ruby lifted the silver key to her lips and kissed it. It was time to send it to Mari. Ruby couldn’t bear the thought of Ariana and Mari becoming estranged, not with a new baby on the way. And given how Patricia had died, Ruby feared a similar diagnosis. If that happened, their history would be lost.

  Some might argue it would be better that way.

  Ruby wrapped the key in tissue paper and tucked it into an international express envelope. Mari would receive it the next day.

  Picking up her pen, Ruby thought about the letter she wanted to enclose. Mari was not one for emotional appeals. That would be counterproductive. She touched the pen to paper and began to write.

  * * *

  Dear Mari,

  Your mother asked that I make sure you received this safety deposit key. The first anniversary of your mother’s death is almost upon us, so this is an appropriate time to complete the details of her final bequest.

  The banker’s card is enclosed, and her office is a short distance from yours. Please call her at your earliest convenience.

  I also have a business proposition for you. I would like for you to take over the sole management of my charitable foundation and my not inconsequential estate, including stocks and bonds, real estate, and intellectual property. I am not asking this as a favor; you will be very well compensated. As my most direct living heir, you should begin to understand the estate. I am not getting any younger and am concerned about my health.

  I am at my villa in Lake Como and am making preparations to finalize my estate. This may be the last time we have to visit, so I ask that you plan to arrive within two weeks. While it is short notice, you will understand the urgency when you arrive. Stefano will contact you with travel options. Upon your arrival, I will review the estate with you and address any questions you might have.

  With love,

  Your Aunt Ruby

  * * *

  Ruby folded the note. The tone was too businesslike for Ruby’s taste, but that was the approach most likely to appeal to Mari.

  And she needed Mari here in Lake Como. For Mari’s sake, and for Ariana and the next generation. Ruby sealed the envelope and addressed it.

  Making her way down the stairs, she called out to Livia. “I’m off to the poste. Is there anything we need from the grocer?”

  “No, no, no,” Livia said, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “That is my job, Signora.”

  “Grazie, Livia.” Ruby smiled to herself. Livia was just as proud as Stefano.

  Ruby stepped outside and threaded through the narrow cobblestone streets until she reached the Poste Italiane. She chatted with people in line before posting her express mail. As she watched the envelope change hands, she thought how that letter would change everything. As soon as tomorrow.

  She drew a breath, mentally bracing herself.

  On her way back to the Villa Fiori, Ruby took a detour, searching for a particular café. On her last trip here, she had looked for it, but she’d been unable to find it. If it’s still here. So much had changed over the years.

  Presently, she came to a stop before a café on a corner that was so popular people were waiting for tables. A sign read: Lorenzo’s. She turned around, considering the view from the tables. Her heartbeat quickened.

  This is the one. She was sure of it.

  Ruby closed her eyes, rewinding the memory reel of her mind. An afternoon of celebration, so many years ago. The music, the food, the faces. And Niccolò. Always Niccolò.

  She opened her eyes, glancing at the people seated at tables outside—especially the men of a certain age—as if she might find him among the patrons. But no, that was too painful even to imagine.

  Ruby glanced at the line of people waiting for a table. Another day, perhaps. As she turned to leave, she noticed a vacant shop space next to the café. She paused outside to peer through the large windows.

  A man wearing a casual sport coat approached her. “Scusi, posso aiutarla con qualcosa?”

  “Forse.” Ruby understood enough.

  He quickly switched to English. “Ah, American?”

  Ruby nodded. “I would like to know if this space is available.”

  “I think it is,” he said. “A boutique was here, but it never had the right styles. My landlord also owns this space, so I can take your name and give it to him.”

  Ruby pushed her sunglasses over her hair to look in her purse for a card. “Is this your café?”

  “For ten years,” the man said with pride, and then he exclaimed. “Signora Raines, what a pleasure. I am Lorenzo Pagani. I heard you bought Villa Fiori. Welcome to Bellagio.”

  Only ten years. He’s too young to remember anyway. “It’s a pleasure to be here. And, please, call me Ruby.”

  “Signora Ruby.” Lorenzo pressed a hand to his heart and dipped his head. “Will you be my guest for lunch today?”

  “What a lovely invitation, but tomorrow would be better. May I bring my niece, too?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lorenzo said. “I will reserve my best table for you. And don’t worry, you will have complete privacy. No paparazzi.”

  She smiled. The photographers didn’t follow her anymore. They only wanted those who were young and photogenic, and whose photos could command a price worthy of the
effort.

  Ruby thanked Lorenzo before he hurried back to the café.

  Ruby sighed. Oh, Niccolò. If only you were still here. It was silly, but she liked to think of it as their café. She recalled telling Patricia about that day in great detail so many years ago. And that was the last time she’d ever spoken of it.

  Gazing at the vacant shop, Ruby pressed a finger to her chin in thought. Perhaps her memories had beckoned her for a reason.

  Ruby strolled back to the villa, an idea forming in her mind.

  Chapter 15

  Lago di Como, 1952

  * * *

  Under the rose-covered pergola, Ruby leaned against Niccolò and cupped her hands around a mug of cappuccino he’d made for her that morning. She was still a little bleary-eyed from the wine and limoncello they’d had, and her feet ached from hours of dancing, but she was so happy being here with him.

  Last night, they had gone out in Varenna for the celebration of Ferragosto. They’d eaten and danced and watched fireworks bursting over the lake. Ruby couldn’t recall when she’d had so much fun. The holiday reminded her of the Fourth of July in America, and when she told Niccolò that he’d laughed, saying that everyone liked an excuse for fireworks and dancing.

  “After mass, we can speak to the priest,” Niccolò said. “He’s young, and I think he’ll help us. Varenna is in the Diocese of Milan, and they are not so strict about paperwork. Do you have your passport with you?”

  “I do.” Since she was born at home on the ranch, Ruby had never had an official birth certificate. Her aunt Vivienne had told the talent agent, Joseph Applebaum, that Ruby was eighteen. When she was chosen for Roman Holiday, Joseph told her she would need a passport and suggested it would be easier for the studio if she weren’t a minor. Her parents quickly applied for Ruby’s birth certificate and added a year to her birth date. Then, they used the birth certificate to obtain her passport. According to that document, she was eighteen and could legally sign contracts, open bank accounts, rent an apartment—and get married.