“I want you to see me,” I softly whisper into his ear.
Carlo looks at me over his shoulder as if he is still afraid he is overstepping a boundary. But the look in my eyes is all he needs to know I am serious. Slowly, he turns around. I lean over and begin kissing him with a passion I have never displayed. It is too much for him. He wraps his arms around my body and kisses me back just as hungrily. He lifts me and carries me to the bed. Pulling away from our kiss, he strokes my face tenderly with his fingers. Then his hand slowly travels down, stroking my neck, my décolletage, the soft concave curves of my abdomen, the tops of my thighs, behind my knees and down my calves, and then my feet. Tears slowly slide down my face as I realize what he is doing. He is showing me he loves all of me and can wait to take me.
I place my hand over his as he guides it over my body. We look into each other’s eyes.
“I can wait until we are married, Sarina. I don’t want you to regret your first time.”
“I know you can wait. But I can’t.”
Carlo swallows visibly at my admission.
“It feels right, Carlo. How can we waste this perfect night in this perfect place?”
To show him I am ready, I begin stroking him the way he stroked me, beginning with his face and ending with his feet. But I take it a step further and begin undressing him. He doesn’t fight me. When he is naked, I lie on top of him, pressing my body closely against his. Closing my eyes, I feel the warmth exuding from his body, and then I listen for his heartbeat. Carlo begins stroking my hair. He then places his hands on either side of my face and pulls me toward him as we kiss again.
The rain starts up again outside, gathering in intensity as another storm gets under way. Carlo takes his time with me, as he leaves a trail of kisses from my lips all the way down to my legs. He repeatedly whispers, “Ti amo, Sarina.” I whisper back, “Ti amo, Carlo.” My love for him feels so overwhelming that I begin crying softly. When Carlo notices, he kisses my cheeks and looks into my eyes. His own eyes fill with tears, and I know he is feeling exactly as I am. We kiss for a long time before Carlo begins caressing me. I wrap my arms around him. The rain muffles my soft moans and cries. After we make love, Carlo holds me tightly to him. His heart is still beating as rapidly as it was while we made love. I have never felt so loved as I do in this moment. Soon, Carlo falls asleep in my arms. I am wide awake, not wanting to let go of the memory of our lovemaking as I recount over and over in my mind every detail. These past few weeks, I have felt that Carlo is my soul mate, but tonight I am even more certain of it.
I don’t remember when I finally drifted off to sleep, but a few hours later, I wake up in the middle of the night and feel Carlo stirring beside me. Even in the darkness, I can make out that he is awake and staring at me.
“I have something for you.”
I laugh. “I guess you can’t wait to give it to me since you’re up.” “Tonight has been so special. Why not make it even more special?” Carlo smiles and turns his back to me as he lights the candle that is on the night table. He then picks up an envelope and empties something from it. Turning around, he holds it out for me to see. It’s a white gold bracelet with a charm dangling from it. I take a closer look and see the charm is of a fish. The fish gleams in what looks like blue sapphire, and its eye is a tiny diamond stone.
“Cosi bello! Carlo, it’s stunning.”
“I thought you would like it. I bought it when we were in Panarea. Let me put it on you.”
“And you waited until now to give it to me?” I ask incredulously as I hold up my wrist.
“I just wanted to give it to you at the right time. And now I’m glad I waited. Every time you look at this bracelet, you’ll remember the night we first made love.”
“Ti amo molto, Carlo.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. He whispers, “Ti amo, Sarina.”
Once more we join our bodies. In this moment, I know without a doubt that my heart will always belong to Carlo.
18
Stromboli
September 21, 1969
We trek ever higher up the rocky, dark slope. The smell of ash is burning our nostrils. Our eyes are fixated on the fiery glow coming from the peak known as the Sciara del Fuoco, or Stream of Fire.
Carlo has the night off, and he wanted to take me to see the evening eruptions on the island of Stromboli. I cannot believe I’m here. Ever since Zio Mario took me and Agata to see the movie Stromboli starring Ingrid Bergman, I have had a desire to come here. Though the movie came out in 1950, before I was born, there was a theater in Messina that played old movies in addition to new ones. I was ten when I saw it. Carlo was shocked to hear that it was the only movie I had ever seen in a theater. My father thought it was a waste of time to sit watching movies while work could be done around the house. But Zio Mario had managed to convince Papá to let me go. Agata and I could talk of nothing else for months afterward when we were together.
Finally, we reach Sciara del Fuoco, where there is a large group of spectators. Carlo and I watch the flow of the embers erupting from the volcano in silence. The stream of lava that flows down the hillside makes for a dramatic view against the night sky.
Though we’ve been watching the spectacle for half an hour, I cannot get enough of it. It isn’t until we’ve been there for about an hour that I finally agree to leave. We begin to make our descent down the hill when suddenly we hear, “Carlo! Carlo!”
A man who looks to be about Carlo’s age with blond hair and piercing green eyes hurries over to us, waving frantically.
“Franco! What a surprise!”
Franco shakes Carlo’s hand and looks at me questioningly.
“This is Sarina.” Carlo turns to me. “Franco worked at the hotel a few years ago until he got married and moved to Messina.”
Franco extends his hand. “Piacere, Sarina.”
“Grazie. Piacere.”
“Where is your wife?” Carlo stretches his head to see if Franco’s wife is anywhere in sight.
“Ah! It has been some time since we’ve seen each other. I had a son two months ago. She’s at home tending to him. I came here with my childhood friend Vito.”
Another young man who has been standing a couple of feet behind us comes forward tentatively and waves. Carlo and I smile and wave back.
“Carlo, I was in Taormina last week and ran into your father. He told me about your grandmother taking a turn for the worse. I’m so sorry.”
Carlo’s face pales, but he recovers quickly.
“Thank you, Franco. As you know her health hasn’t been good for quite some time.”
“Si, si. I remember. I will keep you and your family in my prayers. I’m sorry I haven’t come around more to visit, but since I got married my wife has been keeping me busy.”
Carlo nods his head. “Did my father say anything else when you ran into him?”
Of course Carlo is wondering if Franco knows that he left the Villa Carlotta.
“No. Naturally, I asked about you, and he told me you were doing well and were busy with the construction of the new hotel in Enna. And then we spoke about your grandmother. That was all.”
Franco doesn’t seem to find it odd that Carlo has asked him about his conversation with his father. I’m not surprised that Signore Conti kept from Franco the news that Carlo had left. Signore Conti’s pride won’t allow for it, and he has probably told people who inquire about Carlo that he is in Enna, just as he told Franco.
“Well, it was good to see you, Franco. Please give my best to your wife. If you will excuse us, we need to get going.”
“Buonanotte!” Franco and Vito wish us a good night and then return to watch the volcanic eruptions.
Carlo and I make our way down in silence. I don’t want to intrude on his thoughts and wait patiently for when he is ready to talk.
While on the ferry back to Lipari, Carlo finally says, “Sarina, I must go immediately to see Nonna Lucia.”
“I know.”
“
I just hope I make it in time. From the little Franco said, it doesn’t sound good.” Carlo looks at his watch. “I can still catch the last ferry tonight from Lipari to Milazzo.”
“I’m coming with you.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze it hard.
“You don’t have to, Sarina.”
“I want to be there for you. I’m not afraid of your father, Carlo.”
“Grazie, Sarina.” He sighs. “It’s about time I face the music with him. As you know, I never did call him even though we’ve been gone for about a month now, and I haven’t had a chance to write to him like I said I would. But no more hiding. I will also tell him I plan on making you my wife soon.”
My heart thumps hard against my chest. Though I told Carlo I’m not afraid of his father, I am terrified of what he will say when he hears we plan on getting married. I don’t reveal my worries to Carlo. He has enough on his mind at the moment with his grandmother.
We rush back home and pack a few clothes before catching the ferry to Milazzo. I pray to God that we’re not too late and Carlo gets to see Nonna Lucia before she passes away. I watch Lipari getting smaller and smaller in the distance as we get closer to Milazzo. I remember how much I was looking forward to my new life with Carlo when we were on the ferry coming to the Aeolian Islands. Now instead I am filled with dread. How will Signore Conti receive us? I cannot believe a month has already gone by. Who would have thought we’d be returning to Taormina so soon? Again, the irony doesn’t escape me that the city I thought I could never leave is now the one place I want to be far away from.
19
Ritorno a Taormina
RETURN TO TAORMINA
September 21–October 1, 1969
We arrive at the Villa Carlotta close to midnight. As we enter the lobby and pass the bar, a woman’s soft singing reaches my ears. I stop and strain my neck to get a glimpse. Her black hair is swept up in a severe bun, and her eyes are closed as she belts out a slow, somber song that is quite lovely. She wears a simple, long, eggplant-colored gown with no embellishments, but the color contrasts quite strikingly with her raven hair and the gold chandelier earrings that dangle from her earlobes. Finishing her song, she opens her eyes and bows to the small crowd gathered in the bar. Her eyes then rest on mine. Even from the distance where I stand, I can see she is much older than me—in her forties or fifties. She slightly bows her head to me and smiles. I merely bow my head before walking away, quickening my pace to catch up to Carlo, who hasn’t even noticed that I’m not directly behind him. He’s making his way to the staircase that leads to the second floor and his grandmother’s bedroom.
Though I’m not surprised that Signore Conti replaced me with another singer, it still hurts. The woman’s voice was serene and mesmerizing. I can’t deny she’s talented. My hurt stems mainly from jealousy, for I wish I was the one still singing at the Villa Carlotta. Carlo said he would talk to his friend at the hotel where he works in Lipari to see if they would let me sing at their restaurant—even for free. But that will have to wait now for when we return.
As we near Nonna Lucia’s room, the door opens. I hear whispers, and then Signore Conti steps out. Carlo and I both stop in our tracks.
“Papá. I came as soon as I heard. Is she . . . is she still . . .” Carlo’s voice chokes up.
“She has not passed yet, but I fear it will be any day now. I will call the priest in the morning so he can administer last rites.”
Signore Conti says this all without looking at Carlo. He stares at the floor, and even in the corridor’s dim lighting, I can see his lips are pressed tightly and his eyebrows are knit furiously together.
“If I had known where you were, I would’ve sent word to you. How did you hear about Nonna Lucia?”
Signore Conti finally glances at Carlo. Thankfully, his gaze hasn’t traveled over to me yet, though I know he is very much aware of my presence.
“I ran into Franco.”
Signore Conti nods his head before saying, “You can go in and see her, but she’s in and out.” He then turns to me. “Sarina, do you mind if Carlo visits with his grandmother alone for now? You must be tired. I’ll have one of the maids prepare a room for you.”
Carlo looks at me as if he’s torn over leaving me alone with his father.
“Go be with her. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll come find you when I’m done visiting with her.”
Carlo quietly steps into his grandmother’s room. He closes the door behind him.
Terrified of what Signore Conti will say to me now that we are alone, I follow him down to the lobby. He asks the clerk to find a room for me. It takes the clerk just a couple of minutes to find a vacant room. He tries handing my room key to me, but Signore Conti snatches it before I can.
“Allow me the pleasure of escorting you to your room, Sarina.”
“Grazie, signore,” is all I can muster.
Once we reach my room, Signore Conti unlocks the door and finally hands me the key.
“I must say, Sarina, you are looking well. I see my son has been taking good care of you.”
My face reddens.
“Signore, I know you must be upset with both Carlo and me. He was going to call you when he was ready.”
Signore Conti finally smiles. He waves his hand as if to dismiss what I’ve just said.
“He is a man now and does not need to call me when he’s coming home late—or in this case, not at all. Don’t trouble yourself, Sarina. I will talk to my son when the time is right. All that’s important now is that he is here by his grandmother’s side.”
“Va bene, signore.”
“I will let you get to bed.”
Signore Conti turns to leave, and I take a step into my room before I hear him call me.
“Oh, Sarina. Did you hear Teresa, my new singer, when you came in tonight? Isn’t she wonderful? Of course, she’s not as young or as beautiful as you are, but I learned the hard way that the young workers never last. Anyway, since you are here, maybe you can read a few of the guests’ tarot cards? Unlike you, Teresa isn’t a gypsy.”
And there it is. Right as I’m thinking he’s being kind to me for Carlo’s sake, he manages to catch me off guard, as he no doubt intended, leaving me with his parting shot. My blood boils, and before I can change my mind, I calmly say, “Carlo doesn’t want me reading fortunes anymore, especially since I will become his wife soon.”
Signore Conti flinches, but he holds his composure and says, “It’s about time he started a family. You know, Sarina, if you’re not too tired, perhaps you should go visit Nonna Lucia. Carlo looked devastated. I’m sure your sitting with him at her bedside will help him. Buonanotte.”
Signore Conti walks briskly away, leaving me completely baffled. He goes from insulting me to telling me his son could use my support right now. I close the door behind me and realize my body is shaking from my confrontation. I want to go to sleep, but Signore Conti is right; Carlo looked horrible. He must be beside himself, knowing his grandmother will die soon. I wash my face and change into a more comfortable dress before going up to Nonna Lucia’s room.
As I approach Nonna Lucia’s room, I notice the door is now open. I walk slowly, deciding to peer discreetly before entering in case Carlo is having a private moment with his grandmother. He is sitting on his Nonna’s bed, holding her hand. She’s asleep. I’m about to step in when suddenly a woman’s figure comes into view. She bends over Nonna Lucia and wipes her brow with a wet towel. She is gorgeous! Long wavy blond hair hangs down to her waist. A snug skirt shows off her curvy derrière, and the slit in the back reveals shapely calves as she reaches over Nonna Lucia. She then turns toward Carlo and whispers something. Her shirt reveals a very generous bosom.
Carlo smiles at whatever she says. I step back before they can notice me and am about to walk away when for the second time tonight, a boldness I have never felt before overtakes me. I take a deep breath and knock softly on the door.
“Mi scusi.”
Car
lo looks up, surprise registering on his face.
“Sarina. I thought you would’ve been in bed by now. What are you still doing up?”
“Your father thought it would be good after all if I kept you company.”
No sooner do I get these words out than I realize that Signore Conti wanted me to see this beautiful siren with Carlo. Anger fills every inch of my body, but for now I must let it go.
“Sarina, this is Gemma Maio. She’s a family friend and has been helping my father care for my grandmother since she took a turn for the worse.”
“Piacere.” I nod toward Gemma and do my best to give her a warm smile.
“Piacere.” Gemma nods back, but doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead she looks at Carlo and says, “I will leave you two alone. I am in the room next door. Just let me know when you’re ready to go to sleep, and I’ll take over sitting with Nonna.”
“Gemma, thank you, but you’ve already done so much. You should go home now that I’m here. And Sarina can help me as well.”
“You forget, Carlo, that your family is my family. Nonna is as much my grandmother as she is yours. I want to be here for her in her last days, and for you, too.”
Gemma pats Carlo’s shoulder before leaving. Again, she doesn’t glance my way as she walks by. It’s as if I’ve vanished into thin air. Once I hear her step into her room, I close the door to Nonna’s room.
Sitting by Carlo’s side, I take his hand in mine.
“Has she woken up at all since you’ve been here?”
“No. I can’t leave her, Sarina, until she sees me. I’m going to sleep up here tonight.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you.”
I want to ask Carlo how long he’s known Gemma and if there was ever anything between them. The signals she was sending out were loud and clear that she has feelings for Carlo and was threatened by me. But I know now is not the time to trouble Carlo. He needs a strong, confident woman by his side. Not an insecure young girl. I sit with him a little longer before wishing him a good night and making my way back to my room. But once I’m in bed, I cannot relax. I have felt nothing but tension and awkwardness since we returned. And now on top of having to deal with Signore Conti, there is this woman.
Stella Mia Page 22
