“You have good taste, Pia. It really complements you.” Lorenzo’s eyes are glowing. Francesca told me earlier that he’s been glowing, but I hadn’t really noticed before. But it’s completely evident to me now.
“Thank you. I love it.”
“Please wrap it up—unless you’d like to keep it on?”
Normally, I don’t like to draw attention to myself, but I can’t bear to take the necklace off just yet. And as Lorenzo pointed out to me, I need to start living.
“Yes, I’d like to keep it on. But please still include the box in a bag.”
The saleswoman nods her head toward me, but I see the envy in her eyes. She is wishing she were me.
“Maybe we should pick something up for Francesca? She’s going to feel left out.” I smile at Lorenzo as he drapes his arm around my shoulders.
“I want only you to feel special tonight,” he whispers in my ear.
Today, Lorenzo and I are headed to the Via Appia Antica, also known as the Appian Way. While there, we also plan on visiting the Roman catacombs. I have been dying to go since I first arrived. Via Appia Antica was built in 312 BC. Here, one can truly envision ancient Rome. The road was extended eventually in 190 BC to the Benevento, and to the Taranto and Brindisi ports, linking it to Rome’s expanding empire in the East. The Church of Domine Quo Vadis is built on the spot where tradition states the apostle Peter was visited by the vision of Christ, who implored him not to escape Rome, but to return and face his persecutors.
A week has passed since I agreed to be Lorenzo’s official girlfriend. Lorenzo has been surprising me every day that we’ve spent together exploring the Eternal City, so today, I’ve decided to turn the tables on him. I’ve packed a picnic for us to enjoy. Francesca had mentioned to me that there are beautiful, grassy fields where many people like to picnic along the Via Appia Antica. She told me it’s one of the best spots in Rome for a picnic, especially a romantic one.
I woke up early yesterday morning and headed to one of the many open-air markets in the city to buy my ingredients for a muffuletta. I prepared it as soon as I returned home from shopping. A muffuletta is a sandwich that originated at the famous Central Market in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The store’s founder, Salvatore Lupo, a Sicilian immigrant, invented the sandwich to make it easier for the Sicilian farmers who sold their produce at the local farmers market to eat their lunch, which usually consisted of various deli meats, cheese, olive salad, and Italian bread. The farmers would eat the foods separately and all balanced on their knees while they sat on crates or barrels. Salvatore suggested they place all of the ingredients in the round Italian bread. And the muffuletta was born. My father had been to New Orleans when he was a teenager and immediately fell in love with the sandwich. He taught me and Erica how to make a muffuletta, and we always made one for our family outings at the beach.
Muffulettas are typically made with round Italian bread. Layers of prosciutto, salami, capicollo, ham, provolone cheese, and either giardiniera or a combination of marinated artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, roasted red peppers, and olive paste can be used. You can also choose which of the deli meats you want to add as well as which cheese. I like to make mine with prosciutto, capicollo, provolone cheese, marinated artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, green Sicilian olives, and roasted red peppers. I also like to add slices of plum tomatoes as well as either fresh basil or parsley leaves.
The round loaf of bread is cut in half, and each half is drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. It helps to remove some of the bread crumb filling before adding your ingredients. After I’ve layered the meats and the other ingredients on one half of the loaf, I place the other half of the bread on top and wrap the entire muffuletta in wax paper. Three heavy plates are then placed on top. If you haven’t thought ahead of time to make the muffuletta, you can leave the plates on for a minimum of fifteen minutes. But the muffuletta comes out best if you can let the ingredients settle for twenty-four hours. I made mine yesterday so that the ingredients in the muffuletta have time to settle. I can’t wait to try it, especially with the fresh Italian cold cuts! Next to gelato, my favorite foods to eat in Italy are the deli meats. My favorites are prosciutto, mortadella, and capicollo. I also go crazy for provoleta, or provolone cheese, which can be bought mild or sharp. Since I have a lot of salt in my ingredients for the muffuletta I’ve made for our picnic, I decided to opt for a mild provoleta. I’ve also packed figs, grapes, and two bottles of red wine in our picnic basket.
I glance at my watch. It’s nine a.m. Lorenzo should have been here by now. As if reading my thoughts, the phone rings. This has to be him.
“Pronto.”
“Pia, it’s me. I’m sorry, but a good friend of mine has had a car accident and is in the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry. How seriously hurt is he?”
“He’s lucky. He escaped with just whiplash and a few cuts and bruises. But he’s going to need someone to drive him home after he’s discharged.”
“I’m glad he’s not more seriously hurt.”
“Thank you, Pia. I won’t be able to meet you until later this afternoon. But I don’t want you to wait for me to eat. Just go ahead, and I’ll call you after I’ve dropped him off at home.”
“Well, this was supposed to be a surprise, but I had packed a picnic for us to have at the Via Appia Antica before we headed over to the catacombs.”
“I’m really sorry. Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy the day. It’s gorgeous outside. I’ll do my best to hurry and meet you as soon as I can.”
“Of course. Don’t worry about it. Go be with your friend. I’ll call you later to see how he is, and I’ll save some food for you since I’m sure you’ll be starving by the time you’re done.”
“Thanks again. I’d better get going. Talk to you later. Ciao.”
“Ciao.” I hang up the phone. My spirits plummet. I was really looking forward to surprising him. I suppose Lorenzo is right. I should still take advantage of the beautiful day and have my picnic. I can even bring my laptop and work on Francesca’s autobiography while I wait for Lorenzo to join me.
I make sure all of the contents of my picnic are in my basket, and then I pack up my laptop. I’m alone in the apartment this morning. Francesca left quite early with Rocco. She didn’t mention what they had planned, and I know better than to ask her too many questions. Like me, Rocco has also extended his stay here.
I make my way to the foyer when something swishes past me, and out of my peripheral vision, I see a flurry of white race by.
Mewsette!
Francesca couldn’t bear to leave her back in Astoria even though Giuliana’s household staff is still in the Mussolini Mansion. Once in Rome, Francesca decided to adopt the cat.
A series of “meows” escapes from Mewsette as if she’s begging to go out with me.
“Sorry, Mewsette. You’re not a dog, and even if Francesca had a leash for you, she’d kill me if she knew I took you without her blessing.” I bend over and pet Mewsette on the head. That seems to subdue her. She sits down and watches me unlock the door and let myself out.
I exit Francesca’s apartment out onto the street and begin making my way toward the bus stop. I get no farther than two steps when I hear, “Pia!”
I freeze in my tracks, and my heart stops beating. It can’t be. I turn around slowly.
“Gregory?”
I open my eyes wider, still not believing I’m seeing correctly. But it’s really him.
“Hey, Pia.” He smiles nervously.
“What . . . What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. I would have called, but I was afraid you wouldn’t agree to see me. I know this is a shock, but I really need to talk to you.”
A mixture of nausea and dread fills my stomach. He looks thinner since I last saw him two months ago. His hair is cut differently, too. He’s now sporting a crew cut. His eyes look red and tired. But he is still as handsome as ever.
“I don’t know, Gregory.”
“Pia, if you won’t listen to me in person, then I’ll write everything I have to say in a letter. It’ll take me forever, and I’m certain you’ll have questions that you’ll want answered right away. Please. Can I walk with you?”
My curiosity has been piqued. But what could he have to say that would elicit questions from me?
“Okay. But just to the bus stop. I’m going to Via Appia Antica.”
We begin walking. Neither of us says anything for a good two minutes. Finally, Gregory breaks the silence.
“Can I carry something?”
I’m about to protest, but my laptop is already causing my shoulder to ache. I hand him my laptop bag. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m sorry. I see you have a picnic prepared. I won’t keep you long if you’re meeting anyone.”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be by myself for a little while. My friend got held up.”
Gregory nods his head. We get to the bus stop and wait. No one else is at the bus stand. I must’ve just missed the bus.
“The Via Appia Antica is beautiful. I still remember it from when my family and I lived here.”
“I haven’t been there yet. I’m also planning on visiting the catacombs after I eat.”
“You’ll love them. I saw them as a kid. They definitely spooked me then.” Gregory smiles, but I don’t return his smile.
“When did you arrive in Rome?” I ask him.
“Around eight this morning.”
“And you came straight here?”
“Yeah. I haven’t even booked a hotel yet.”
I frown. Whatever it is he needs to talk to me about must be serious if it couldn’t wait for him to get settled first.
“You look great, Pia. I see this trip has agreed with you.”
“It’s just the tan.” I shrug my shoulders and don’t meet his gaze.
“How do you like Rome?”
“I love it.”
“I figured you would.”
I nod. Another couple of minutes of awkward silence elapse before I ask him, “How did your second art show go?”
“Not bad. More people attended the first one. The gallery owner said a lot of people were away for vacation in August so that’s why there was a low turnout.”
“No more shows coming up?”
“Not until the end of October. Since I didn’t sell most of my paintings at the second show, I won’t have to kill myself. I might just do two new paintings.”
“So you have a bit of a break now.”
“Yes. But even if I didn’t, I would’ve still come to Rome. I’ve missed you a lot, Pia. I could hardly paint those first two weeks after you left. You were all I thought about.”
I refuse to fall for his words, and instead ask, “How’s Madeline?”
“That’s part of what I need to talk to you about.”
I shut my eyes for a second. He’s finally going to come clean about their affair. He could’ve done this over the phone or in an e-mail. Then again, I’d told him the last time we talked not to call anymore.
“Gregory, we don’t need to rehash what happened. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Yes, I do. You need to hear the truth, Pia.”
The bus pulls up at the curb.
“Pia, I’m sorry. I know you have plans, and I just dropped in on you suddenly, but please give me some more time—at least until I tell you what I came here for. Can I ride with you to Via Appia Antica?”
I hesitate. “Okay.”
We climb the stairs up to the bus. Before I insert my ticket, I ask Gregory, “I take it you haven’t yet purchased a bus pass since you only arrived a few hours ago?”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that you have to buy tickets ahead of time for the bus.”
“I’ll get your fare.” I insert my bus ticket into the reader twice.
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.” Gregory takes his wallet out of his pocket, but I push it away and my fingers graze against his skin. The contact sends tiny jolts of electricity through my body. He must feel it, too, since his gaze meets mine. I look away and start to head to the back of the bus, where I spot a few empty seats. I sit down next to an open window. The air in the bus is already quite stuffy. Gregory sits down next to me.
I want to hurry up and get this over with.
“So, we were talking about Madeline and how she’s part of the reason why you’re here.”
“Pia, I know you thought that Madeline and I were having an affair. Again, I never had an affair with her. I never cheated on you with anyone. In hindsight, I can see how we must’ve looked when you showed up at my place. I guess I was hurt that you would even entertain the idea that I would betray you like that. It hurt that you didn’t trust me.”
He’s good. I’ll give him that. He’s turning the tables to make me feel like I was wrong in thinking that he cheated on me. I’m tempted to lash out, but I decide to be patient and hear his whole “explanation”—if that’s what he wants to call it.
“The truth is, Pia, you were partially right.”
“Oh?”
“You were right that Madeline was interested in me and was trying to get me to sleep with her. But again, I swear I never did. I know this is going to be hard for you to believe at first, but I’m just going to cut to the chase. Francesca bribed Madeline to seduce me.”
“What? I don’t believe you.” I start laughing.
“Pia, it’s true.”
“You really will think of anything, I swear, Gregory.” I shake my head. “That’s crazy! Why would Francesca do that?”
“I thought the same thing, too, when Madeline confessed to me, and I asked what Francesca’s motives were. She said that Francesca wanted to break up you and me so you’d be available for her nephew, Lorenzo.”
The blood drains from my face. Though it’s so hot on the bus, I feel cold. Suddenly, Francesca’s words come back to me. “I have secretly hoped that he would fall in love with you. . . . I could not hope for a better woman for my son.”
Gregory continues. “I still had a hard time believing it—until Madeline played a tape for me. When she was at Signora Tesca’s house to interview Francesca about her visit to Astoria as well as Giuliana’s vast art collection, she forgot to turn off her recorder when they were done. There’s no question the voice on the tape is Francesca’s. She bribed Madeline not only to seduce me, but also to pay off an art dealer to discover me.”
“Nathan Horowitz?”
“Yeah,” Gregory says in a pained voice.
“I’m sorry, Gregory, but I’m really having a hard time with this. Why would Francesca want you to be discovered so badly that she’d bribe Nate?”
“I have the tape here. I knew you’d have a hard time believing me.” Gregory pulls out of his backpack a mini recorder.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, Gregory, but I don’t trust Madeline. You don’t have to play the tape for me.” I place my hand over his before he can push the “play” button on the recorder.
Gregory covers my hand with his. I want to wrest it free, but for some reason I don’t.
“Pia, I’m positive this is Francesca. And I’m sure you would agree with me if you listened to it. I know you’ve become close to her and this is hard for you to hear. But I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind that this is Francesca. Can I play the tape?” Gregory looks into my eyes. I nod my head.
He removes his hand from on top of mine, and I pull it back onto my lap. He starts the recorder and raises the volume. I don’t have to worry about the other passengers hearing since the traffic noise coming from the street is quite loud.
“Madeline, I will pay you $25,000 to seduce Gregory and sleep with him. And I will pay you another $25,000 to use to bribe Nathan Horowitz to discover Gregory. Once Gregory is preoccupied with fame, he will be too busy for Pia. And once he sleeps with you, that will seal the end of their relationship.”
“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more.�
�� Gregory stops the recorder. I can’t believe Francesca would go to such lengths to break up Gregory and me. I was actually starting to feel like I could understand her, especially after she opened up to me about her past. I’ve been a fool.
“Why did Madeline fess up?” I ask Gregory.
“She claimed that it was the right thing to do, but I didn’t believe her. My guess is that something must’ve happened between Madeline and Francesca. This was probably Madeline’s way of getting back at her.”
“Yeah, I can totally see that, Gregory.”
“I still have a hard time wrapping my head around why Francesca took such extreme measures to try and pave the road between you and Lorenzo. Granted, he is Francesca’s nephew, but she hadn’t even met him until she came to Astoria. It’s not like they were close. She never even breathed a word about him to me.”
I hesitate. What’s the matter with me? It’s ridiculous that I still feel some sense of loyalty to the woman who intentionally set out to destroy my life. My anger returns. Although I had promised Francesca that I wouldn’t tell her secret to anyone, Gregory needs to know the entire truth.
“Actually, Gregory, Lorenzo isn’t Francesca’s nephew. He’s her son.”
“What?”
“It’s true. She told me not long after I came to Rome. He was part of the reason why she was estranged from Signora Tesca.”
I fill Gregory in on the whole story with Francesca, Signora Tesca, and their love for Dante, Lorenzo’s father. By the end of the story, we’ve reached the stop for Via Appia Antica. I glance at my watch. Lorenzo is probably still tied up with his friend. Gregory gets up and follows me off the bus. I guess he’s forgotten that he was supposed to just be with me during our bus trip. But I know our discussion isn’t over, so I don’t object to his getting off with me. Once we descend, we make our way toward the picnic grounds. Gregory looks lost in thought and doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to where we’re going.
“Okay, now that makes more sense, why she wanted to set up her son, but why you? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I already know what a fantastic woman you are.” Gregory looks at me with that look he’s always given me, and suddenly, I know. He’s always loved me, long before I even knew I loved him. But I’ve ruined it all.
Carissima Page 45
