“Merry Christmas, Ladies!” said Anthony, coming in from the cold carrying a large bag and sitting cross-legged on the floor like a little boy. Itsy wrote him a note.
“Yours are under the tree,” he read aloud. “Well thanks!” He reached into his bag and took out presents for each of them, laying one for Elly on top of her others.
Elly looked at him and cocked her head, confused. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“Come on, Elly! These women are special. They can see things. They told me you were coming this year.”
“He’s only asked us every single year since you were thirteen,” said Mimi, teasing. “I was glad to give him a smile this year.” She reached down and pinched his cheek. “Move your fat butt, Fee! Let me scootch in next to my granddaughter.” And then to Elly, “Open a present.” Elly reached down and picked up a rectangular box. She tried to peek at Anthony to see if he was disappointed that she hadn’t picked up his first—but he was staring right at her. He smiled. Elly blushed and ripped open the shiny wrapping. “That’s from me,” said Mimi.
It was a beautiful white christening gown. Crocheted. And booties and a hat, too.
“Mimi,” whispered Elly. “How did you know?” Elly remembered Anthony’s odd comment outside … In your condition …
“Are you a fortune-teller, Mimi?” she asked, taking a deeper look at the woman beside her.
Mimi smiled. “Well, we all have a little … what did that program on public television call it girls? ESP? Extra Sensory Projection?”
“Perception,” yelled Fee.
“Yes. That. Every one of us. You, too, Elly.”
“They’re witches,” said Anthony. Fee and Itsy nodded.
“You know we don’t use that word!” said Mimi. And then to Elly, “It’s a bit of ESP darling, that’s all. Nothing to be afraid of. Humans only use a fraction of brain space, there could be magic there, no?”
“I doubt very much that I have ESP,” laughed Elly. “If I did, it might have been able to help me avoid my current predicament.” But what about that voice? The one saying, ‘Come home?’ What about that feeling I had when I touched Mom’s hand?
“Why is it a predicament and not a gift?” asked Mimi.
“So you all know?” she asked softly.
Itsy, Fee, Anthony, and Mimi all nodded.
“Great,” said Elly, embarrassed. “You really want me to believe you are all witches?”
“Not me, only them. Probably you, too. Now, open the rest of your presents,” said Anthony.
They were all for the baby. A Tiffany’s rattle from Anthony. A pregnancy journal from Fee. A music box from Itsy. Elly wound it up. “Let me call you sweetheart…” was the melody.
“Let me have your hand, honey,” said Mimi, taking Elly’s palm and stroking it with rough, cracked fingers.
“What are you doing, Mimi?”
“Well, I want to find out more about this whole situation. Hmmmm. Who is this? A baker? Is the baby’s father a baker? That wouldn’t be so horrible. Unless he was a Polish baker. Ugh. I hate Polish pastries. And where is this? What? Coopersmith? Is that a town or something? Where, my Elly? In England?”
Elly couldn’t help it. She pulled away her hands and began to laugh. She laughed so hard she almost threw up again on the sofa.
“No, no, Mimi! His name is Cooper Bakersmith! He goes to Yale. He’s going to be a lawyer.”
Mentioning Cooper made Elly glance over at Anthony. He was trying not to look at her. She watched as he pretended to flip through a Sports Illustrated magazine. “Itsy gets me a subscription every year,” he said.
Mimi, who’d begun to crack a smile, jumped from the sofa, hurtling Elly toward Fee once again. “Damn Anglos! Always mixing me up with those mix and match names!” She paced to and from the Christmas tree mumbling. “Cooper Smithbaker, Smith Cooperbaker, Baker Coopersmith … could have been any of those.” Mimi walked to the kitchen. “Did you have coffee?”
“No. The smell made me nauseous.”
“I’ll have some,” said Anthony.
“I’ll make a fresh pot,” yelled Mimi over her back.
“Well, I’m taking my books and going!” yelled Fee, winking and motioning her head toward the door at Itsy. Itsy nodded and wrote a note. She gave it to Elly. Merry Christmas.
Elly stood up and kissed both her aunts. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“And God bless us, every one,” laughed Anthony when the door closed.
The two sat in an awkward silence, both trying to start conversations and failing miserably. Anthony laughed, “I guess we have to get the hang of this,” he said, scratching his head.
The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the apartment. “Mmmm, that smells good now,” said Elly. And it did. It smelled like the coffee in the best coffee shops. Dark and rich.
Mimi was back with a tray. Three coffee cups.
“How did you…? Okay, I’ll stop asking, I guess,” said Elly.
Mimi nodded. Anthony laughed.
“Okay, so if you have ESP … who was crying in your apartment this morning?” asked Elly.
“You heard it again?” asked Mimi.
“Yes, clear as day. But I looked around and there wasn’t anyone here.”
“Ah … Maybe you hear the baby in your belly already? Or maybe your Sight is very strong,” said Mimi.
“Sight?”
“Didn’t you ask how I knew your Anglo’s name?” There was a sparkle in Mimi’s eyes. “I guess it’s the same as what you call ESP.”
“Well, I don’t think my baby is big enough to cry yet.”
“Maybe it was Zelda Grace?” offered Anthony.
“Who is Zelda Grace?” Elly leaned forward almost tipping her coffee.
Mimi sat back into the cushions and sipped her coffee, “Well, Zelda was Bunny’s daughter. She fell out the window and died years ago. Your Great Aunt Bunny, our oldest sister, was such a good mother, and such a beautiful woman.” Mimi started to cry a little. She made the sign of the cross. “No more, no more of this. It’s time to clean up.”
Babygirl
Clean up … clean up … At first Babygirl thought living with her grandmother would be too hard. Like going back into the past and trying really hard just to survive. Babygirl and Mimi did chores every day. It was so different than living with Mommy where there always seemed to be a maid or a mess.
There was nothing modern or magical at all to help out with the cleaning. No garbage disposal, no dishwasher, no dryer. Everything took much more time than necessary. And then there was the bathroom issue. There was only one and it didn’t have a shower, only a big old claw-foot tub.
“No shower, Mimi?” she asked while scrubbing Comet against the tub. Enjoying the strong smell of the bleach crystals.
“Why do you need one? A bath cleans you the same way, no?”
“No dishwasher, Mimi?” she’d asked.
“Only lazy, stupid people wash dishes twice.”
“No garbage disposal, Mimi?”
“No, I don’t want garbage in my sink! Do you? It belongs in the pail, not the sink.”
“I love you, Mimi.”
“I love you, too, Babygirl!”
* * *
“Are you okay?” asked Anthony. He was sitting next to her now and had his hands on her shoulders.
“What happened?” asked Elly, shaking off his hands.
“I don’t know, it was weird, like you floated off for a few seconds.” He sat back in relief. His concern warmed her from the inside out.
“It’s strange,” she began. “You know I don’t remember anything, right? We went over that when you were all mad the last time we saw each other. Remember?”
“Yep! ‘Who’s on first,’” Anthony laughed, “No one could believe you couldn’t remember that crazy summer. We all had the best time. It really is a shame. Uncle George, he was the one who was the most disappointed. He was looking forward to seeing you that Christmas.”
&nbs
p; “Ah yes,” said Elly. “They must have known in advance about that visit, too.”
“Yes, indeed. Can’t hide much from these women. So what were you about to say?”
“Oh, right. Well, the thing is—since I’ve been pregnant, I’ve had these flashes of memory. Like just now, Mimi went off to clean? And I remembered cleaning the apartment with her. It must be a memory from that summer because I wasn’t here before, right?”
“Did I hear you say you remembered something about cleaning with me?” asked Mimi, as she entered the room again.
“Yes! Isn’t it great!?” Elly exclaimed.
“Sure is,” said Mimi, who threw a white dishcloth into Elly’s lap. “Now come help me out with some of those newfound memories.”
“I’m out,” said Anthony.
“Smart move,” said Elly.
“See you later?” he asked.
“Later?” Elly responded, excitement fluttering in her stomach.
“For Christmas dinner,” he said, and left the apartment.
Elly stared at the door. How can I feel so close to someone I don’t really know? she wondered.
“Because you do know him. And you loved him very much, once upon a time,” said Mimi, pulling her granddaughter into a soft embrace.
“Now, let’s get to cleaning. How can we cook if we don’t have a clean house first?” she said, patting Elly on the back. A signal that it was time to get to work.
Elly and Mimi began to clean the already spotless apartment.
Finally, as Elly wiped the invisible dust from the living room windowsills and beautiful antique side tables, Mimi walked in and announced, “Now, come to the kitchen and let me teach you how to make a proper Christmas feast. Do you think your stomach can take it?”
Hungry now, with the morning turning into early afternoon, her sickness had passed. She was ravenous. The galley kitchen was small and the counters already piled high with ingredients. “Here, sit here and cut the beets,” said Mimi, who led her to the breakfast nook that was outside of the kitchen but next to the entrance to the dining room and opposite the exit to the back hall. Elly sat down in a well-worn, wooden kitchen chair and began to cut fresh, peeled beets into quarters. The bright red juice got on her fingers. Mimi threw a damp towel to her from the kitchen. “Beets are messy things, but they taste of the earth. And they’re the color of Christmas.”
“What’s on the menu, Mimi? I’m starving.”
“Oh, now you are starving?” teased Mimi. “The roast is in the oven. Roast beef is our Christmas beast. The secret to cooking any kind of meat is to salt it well and put it in the oven for a long time at a low temperature. Leave it there, don’t fuss with it. It’s ready when you can’t stand waiting for it anymore.”
Elly could smell it cooking. A heavy smell, full of crisped fat and savory meatiness. It made her mouth water.
“Here,” Mimi said, putting a bowl in front of her that held the heel of a loaf of crusty Italian bread, ladled with sauce.
“This isn’t the sauce from last night, is it?” asked Elly.
“No, of course not. Would I do that to you? It’s the sauce for the lasagna. We are having roast beef with roasted root vegetables, lasagna, and then a few leftovers from last night, but not the sauce. We never mix sauces.”
Elly wiped her hands with the towel (or mopine, as Mimi called it), and picked up the bread, now softening in the sauce. Warm and perfect. Acidic and sweet. The bread mingled with the perfect sauce and gave it a hearty yeast flavor that Elly could almost taste down to her toes.
The afternoon slipped by in a flurry of chopping, tasting, baking, and setting the table.
When everyone was finally gathered in the dining room, with the flickering candlelight casting warmth across the table, Elly felt a sense of accomplishment as she looked over the meal she’d helped prepare. The roast beef set amongst the roasted beets, yams, fennel, and potatoes. Sprigs of rosemary finishing off the platter. The oblong tray of encrusted cheese that held layer upon layer of light, homemade pasta sheets and a mixture of ground beef and ground sausage browned to perfection. A salad of fresh greens mixed with pears and a crumbling of blue cheese. Broccoli drizzled with olive oil and served with bright lemon wedges. It was perfect.
“Merry Christmas!” said Anthony, who’d picked a seat next to Elly. He tried to place his hand over hers, but she pulled away her hand. Embarrassed by her awkwardness, Elly picked up a glass of sparkling cider and made a toast. “To family,” she said.
Mimi, Fee, and Anthony raised their glasses. But not Itsy. Itsy stared down at her hands. “Don’t mind her, Elly. She’s always been moody,” yelled Fee.
Itsy wrote on her pad. And you’ve always been FAT.
“I have not. Tell her, Mimi. Remind her that I was thin, when we were young!”
Mimi slammed her hand on the table, clattering the gold-plated silverware together. “Abaste!” she yelled. “You all stop this nonsense and celebrate with me. Look, I have my granddaughter home, and it’s Christmas!”
“Fine,” Fee said as softly as she could.
“Hey, has anyone heard the one about the three witches and the priest?” asked Anthony, breaking the ice.
Elly stole looks at him throughout what turned into a delightful meal, despite its rocky beginning, thanks to him. How could any man be so kind? It worried her, and it tugged at her. Maybe men weren’t all like Cooper. Maybe some could be trusted.
* * *
After the plates were cleared and the pots and pans cleaned, Fee, Itsy, and Anthony all went home to their respective apartments.
“We are done. Christmas is officially over. Come, sit and talk to me. I want to know everything,” said Mimi.
They sat together on the couch. Mimi put her feet up on an embroidered ottoman and reached beside her into a yarn-filled basket taking out a crochet hook and a small multicolored square. She began to crochet in the round.
“I guess you pretty much have the whole story, Mimi,” said Elly, fascinated by the swift movement of her grandmother’s hands.
“Maybe. But how are you feeling?” Mimi tapped her head. “In here.”
Mimi set aside her yarn and went around the back of the couch, gathering Elly’s long hair up and making a thick braid.
“That summer you spent with us, the one you can’t remember? We spent a week in the cottage at Far Rockaway. What a wonderful summer that was. We had you baptized. You received your first communion and were sealed into the church by confirmation. Old Father Martin, drunk and senile, petitioned the church so we could do it all at once. But the thing is … You felt safe. You told me so. You always felt safe here.” Mimi smiled, remembering and laughing, “Babygirl.”
“I wish I remembered. Why can’t I remember?”
Mimi dropped the braid and tilted Elly’s head back with her finger looking into her eyes and seeing the truth. “You will. It’s already starting.”
“I hope so,” said Elly, looking upside down at Mimi.
“Well, let me know when you do. It was the summer Itsy decided to speak. She told you something.”
“What did she say?”
Mimi sat down and picked up her crochet again.
“I don’t know. All we heard was mumbling from the upstairs room. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Itsy … or remember it yourself. It’s always killed me, not knowing what made her break her silence that day.”
Elly wanted to remember.
She looked at her grandmother. The perfectly black hair in the flawless set, the matronly body covered in a boldly flowered housecoat, the knee-high stockings and sensible black shoes. It was safe here. The yarn squeaked across the hook.
Babygirl was in the garden with Itsy and George. “Chain five. Single crochet, single crochet…” Itsy sat on a bench behind the little girl moving her hands while George sat at her feet giving the words to the movements. He didn’t even have to look. He just knew what Itsy was doing as if he’d heard the same, basic lesson one thousand t
imes before.
Elly put her hands over her eyes trying to capture more of the memory. Mimi squeezed her hand and said, “Don’t worry my Elly. It will come back. All of it. Just as you’ve come back to us, all that you need to remember will come back to you.”
Elly shook her head as tears started to flow. It bothered her, this instant crying business.
“What is it, my love? Tell Mimi.”
Elly looked at her grandmother again. Yes. It was safe here. She let the flood of worry out. “I’m worried my Mom won’t forgive me for this. For coming here. For having the baby. It’s always been just us, you know? And I’m worried about Cooper.” That he’ll find me. “And finishing my senior year. I’m worried about telling my mentor I won’t be going to Florence.”
“You were going to go to Florence?”
“Yes, I won a scholarship to restore frescoes.”
“That’s truly an accomplishment, Elly! And you think you’re not interesting! My goodness.”
“I don’t remember telling you I felt uninteresting, Mimi.”
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s the damn Sight. It talks to us with such a loud voice sometimes. And other times it’s completely silent. Itsy calls it fickle. I know there’s a part of you afraid of all this. Afraid of being who you are.”
“But isn’t there a chance that when I remember everything I’ll be different? That I’ll be fascinating?”
“I can’t tell you what you’ll find, I only know how you feel. And right now there’s a part of you so very afraid that you’ve made all this up. That you wanted so much to escape and now that you’ve achieved it you’ve found there’s no escape from yourself.”
It was true. Mimi could have disappeared in a cloud of smoke right in front of her and it wouldn’t have seemed any crazier than Elly’s desperate need to escape her life at Yale. Her life with Carmen. Her life with Cooper. Witches, ESP, mystery children crying … all of it was preferable to her other world. A world she worried about.
Mimi put the granny square she was making in her lap. “Don’t worry about any of that now. It’ll all work itself out. Those kinds of things always do. Carmen will get over herself. We can deal with that Cooper boy in our own way. I’ll stand by you tomorrow while you call whomever you need to call about your trip. And school? You will finish. You can drive in. It’s not far. You can use Uncle George’s car. Anthony can show you tomorrow. Abast. Finito. Done.”
The Witch of Little Italy Page 5
