My favorite time of the day in Rome is just as the sun is setting. This is when I usually like to take my passeggiata. Tonight I want to walk by the Colosseum, so Edgardo and I drive over since it is quite far from my apartment. We park and then take our stroll. The sun casts long shadows over the Colosseum. Closing my eyes, I hear the shouts from the spectators of long ago when gladiators fought. As many as fifty thousand spectators sat in this massive amphitheater. All the history that surrounds Rome is what I love about her so much.
Rocco could not join me tonight. He had a business dinner. I have come to appreciate his companionship these past few weeks. And dare I say it? My feelings for him have grown. It has been so long since I felt this way for a man, probably not since Dante. But this is different. After I told him the other night the truth about Lorenzo’s being my son and what I had done to Giuliana, he took my hands in his and told me it was all right. He truly cares about me.
My days in Rome are coming to a close. Soon, Pia will be done with our interviews for my autobiography, and it will be time for me to return to my villa in Taormina, Sicily. And of course, Rocco will return to New York and his jewelry shop. I never met a man who loves jewels almost as much as I do. But in his case, he loves selling them, while I love acquiring them.
I know I will miss him when he returns home. But I have come to accept that I simply do not have luck when it comes to love. Maybe that was my price for fame and a wonderful acting career.
Sighing, I walk away from the Colosseum. I glance over my shoulder and see Edgardo keeping his distance behind me. This is the closest I can get to being alone outdoors. Edgardo lightly nods his head in my direction. I return the nod then turn around.
The thought of losing Rocco is not all that is making me sad tonight. Lorenzo and I will part ways as well. He has agreed to come visit me in Sicily for the holidays. I know I cannot press him for more of a relationship. He has spent his whole life without me, and I see now not much will change. But I am grateful that he finally knows the truth and has not shunned me altogether.
Edgardo joins me as we approach my car. The Colosseum is quite far from my apartment in Piazza Navona. He holds the door open for me before getting behind the steering wheel. My driver has left for his vacation, so Edgardo is doing double duty as my chauffeur. Thankfully, he leaves me to my thoughts as we ride back to my apartment in silence.
Once home, I head straight for the kitchen and make my favorite nonalcoholic drink. I pour Pellegrino water into a tall glass. Slicing a few cucumbers and strawberries, I throw them in with the Pellegrino. I also squeeze half a cup of lemon juice into my glass. If I am out of lemons, I then use limes or oranges. Sometimes, depending on my mood, I finish off the beverage with a few sprigs of mint.
I kick off my shoes and walk out onto the balcony. I am startled to see Pia leaning over the balcony’s railing, gazing at Piazza Navona.
“Pia, I thought you would have still been out with Lorenzo.”
“My plans changed.”
She does not turn around when she says this. Something is wrong; I can sense it.
“Did you and Lorenzo have a fight?”
Finally, she turns around. Her eyes are red, and her mascara is smeared.
“Not really. I need to talk to you, Francesca.”
“Of course. Let me make you one of these drinks.” I turn to go, but Pia stops me.
“I don’t need a drink.”
“All right.” I sit down on one of the chairs that accompany a dinette table on the terrace. Pia remains standing. She crosses her arms over her chest and then looks at me with the most hostile expression.
“I know what you did, Francesca.”
My pulse begins to race. “What are you talking about, Pia?”
“I know how you bribed Madeline to seduce Gregory.”
I swallow hard. “I see.” I take a sip of my drink, hoping the raised glass conceals the flush that has spread over my face. Standing up, I walk over to the railing. As dusk approaches, the lights begin to come on around the city. Though it is a mild night, I feel a chill. I have made a mess of everything. Regret washes over me. I turn back around and look directly into Pia’s eyes.
“I had my reasons,” I say.
“So, you’re not going to deny it?”
“I am many things, Pia, but I am not a coward.”
“I also know how you paid Madeline to bribe Nathan Horowitz so he would discover Gregory. I know you wanted to break up Gregory and me so that I’d be free for Lorenzo.” Pia claps her hands. “Brava, La Sposa Pazza gives another Oscar award–winning performance, probably the best of her life.”
“Pia, please let me explain.”
“Nothing you say can make me change my mind about your actions. I thought we had become friends. I actually started to think that the world had misjudged you and been harsh in their criticism, especially when they labeled you a bitch. But they were right. If only I had stuck by my initial thoughts and never trusted you, I would have been spared becoming another one of your victims. Instead, you made me doubt Gregory, the one person who truly loved me.”
“Pia, your doubting Gregory was not solely my fault. You had your own reservations about the relationship. You were insecure in his feelings for you.”
“That’s true, but your convincing Madeline to try and seduce him only made me more insecure. How could you do that to me? I didn’t do anything to you.” Pia is crying.
“I am sorry. Honestly, I meant what I told you a few weeks ago that I did not think you and Gregory made a good match. I thought I was acting in your best interest and Lorenzo’s. As his mother, I did not want him making the same mistakes in love that I had made in my life.”
“Do you know how warped that sounds? How about trusting Lorenzo to make his own choices in life, whether they turn out to be mistakes or not. You profess to have acted out of interest in what was best for Lorenzo and me, but you were just doing what you have always done best—manipulate. You did it with your sister and Dante, and now you were trying to do it again.”
“How did you find out about this? Did Madeline call you?”
“No. Gregory is here in Rome. He told me everything this morning.”
“And Lorenzo? Does he know?”
Pia nods her head. A fresh round of tears erupts from her eyes. “We are no longer together.”
Hmmm. How convenient, I cannot help but think. Her old lover comes running to Rome to save the day, and she dumps Lorenzo without a second thought, ruining all of my carefully made plans. And now she has the nerve to act like everything is my fault? Of course, Pia cannot see it my way or understand. She is not a mother who will sacrifice herself for the happiness and welfare of her children. Someday, she will understand. And someday, my anger toward her will also lessen. But right now, I am feeling a mother’s fury over her son’s being hurt.
“So you are going to run back to Gregory. You just used my son to forget about your old boyfriend and to have a companion in Rome.”
“I did not use your son! You were all but begging me to let him take me sightseeing. I care about Lorenzo. He was the one to break it off.”
“Naturally. He can tell you still have feelings for another man. He is not going to play second fiddle or wait for you to come around only to break his heart eventually.”
“He is honorable, unlike you. He wants me to be happy above all else, and if that means letting me go, then that is what he felt he needed to do.”
Though I have given up on trying to convince Pia to see I was only doing what I thought was best for my son, I am losing the energy to continue being mean toward her. I have always resorted to acting the “bitch,” as the media has called me, when I feel cornered. And Pia has most certainly cornered me. I do not want her to see that I am dying on the inside. For once again, I have hurt those I love. Old age is making me soft.
Standing up, I deliver my last blow before I lose all emotional control.
“I suppose I was wrong about you, Pia.
My son deserves a better woman than you.” And with that I quickly walk back inside, heading toward my bedroom.
Edgardo looks up from the couch, where he is seated watching TV. Tears race down my face. Edgardo begins to rise, but I hold my hand up, imploring him to back off. As I enter my bedroom, I notice Pia’s luggage is standing outside the door to her room down the corridor. Of course she is leaving. There is no way she could or would stay here now after everything.
Slamming my bedroom door shut behind me, I walk to my bed and collapse. I have always sensed that I was meant to be alone, but now that reality is ringing truer than ever. I do not know why I keep alienating the ones I love by my manipulative behavior. When I was younger, I could blame it on my youth. But I am older now and should have learned from my past mistakes. Perhaps I do not know how to be any other way? I have become accustomed to being alone and not depending on others—that is, except for the adoration of my fans. Maybe that is why I did not always feel so compelled to hold on to the affection of those closest to me? I had the love of thousands of admirers, and sadly, that was what I craved most. The love of strangers was enough for me when it should have been the love of my family and friends who had proven their loyalty to me.
These last few months, I was finally making deeper connections: Giuliana, Lorenzo, Pia. But I have thrown it all away. The only one left is Rocco, and soon enough, he, too, will want nothing to do with me. Although he did not care about what I had done to Giuliana and Dante all those years ago, he cannot be that understanding forever. I am sure he will discover some other part of my character that he finds repulsive and unforgivable, probably when he learns what I did to Pia and Gregory, not to mention my own son. I should have stayed in Sicily and never gone to Astoria. If I had, I would not have hurt them or be suffering the pain I am in now. With this last thought, I curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep.
31
Pia
The taxi is driving through the cobblestone streets of Piazza Navona, taking me to the Hotel Trevi, where Gregory is staying. In the weeks since I’ve arrived in Rome, this is the first time that I feel I am truly seeing her. I let my eyes linger on the famous landmarks we pass—Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi, Palazzo Pamphilj, Palazzo Madama, Colonna di Marco Aurelio—and my heart races in anticipation of seeing Gregory.
As I left Francesca’s apartment, Edgardo had offered to drive me to where I was going. I could tell he felt bad for me. He must have overheard some, if not all, of my argument with Francesca. I thanked him, but told him I had called a cab already.
Though Francesca had the last word in our argument, I don’t care. Her controlling nature demands that she always have the last word in any matter. I am sad that our friendship is over, but more than anything, I’m hurt by her actions. Besides, I suspected she wouldn’t give me the chance to tell her everything I wanted to express. So I had written a letter as soon as I arrived at her place after leaving Lorenzo. In it, I told her that after what had happened I could not finish writing her autobiography. I did not want to go straight to Gregory’s hotel because I wanted to pack my belongings and confront Francesca. I didn’t want that ugliness hanging over me. When I see Gregory, I just want to focus on us.
The cab driver pulls up in front of the Hotel Trevi. After I tip him generously, he offers to take my luggage up to the hotel’s lobby, but I tell him I’ll be fine. Gregory is expecting me. I called him earlier to let him know that I wanted to talk. I was afraid that maybe he’d changed his mind and would leave Rome without telling me. There I go again letting my insecurity get the better of me.
If I had stayed at a hotel instead of staying at Francesca’s home, I would have chosen the Hotel Trevi. I had read about it in my guidebook on the flight over from New York. Once a sixteenth-century palazzo, the Hotel Trevi is just steps away from the Trevi Fountain. It is also near the Spanish Steps and Via Veneto.
I approach Gregory’s room on the second floor. Before I knock, I pull out my compact, ensuring my makeup is in place. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door. Gregory doesn’t even ask who it is, and within a second of my knocking, he’s opened the door.
“Hey!”
Though Gregory is doing his best to sound nonchalant, I detect a hint of nerves in his voice as well as in his eyes.
“Hi.”
“Come in—unless you’d feel more comfortable talking in the lobby or we could even go outside.”
“No, that’s okay. Here is fine. It might be too noisy outside anyway. Now that most of the Romans are back from their vacations, it’s even noisier than it’s been the past few weeks.”
“True.”
Gregory steps back and motions with his hand for me to enter his room. I can’t help noticing his face turn serious when he sees my luggage.
“Are you leaving Rome today?” He points to my luggage.
“I’ll get to that in a moment.”
“Okay. Would you like something to drink? I don’t have anything here, but I can call down for room service. Coffee, beer?”
“No, I’m fine. But thanks.”
I sit down on the chair that’s at the desk in the corner. The room is decorated tastefully with modern furniture and accents.
“The rooms are really nice here.”
“Yeah, I like them. I wasn’t expecting the modern furnishings. I figured they would have a Renaissance or more Roman feel to them, know what I mean?”
I nod my head. Gregory sits on the edge of the bed. He looks to either side of the room as if he’s taking it in for the first time.
“So, I confronted Francesca a little while ago.”
“How did it go?”
“Not well, of course.”
“Did she try to deny it?”
“No, she didn’t. She was proud to tell me that she might be many things but not a coward.”
“Naturally.” Gregory grins.
“She did try to explain to me that she honestly always thought you and I were not a good match for each other.”
“She said that?” Gregory frowns. He curls his hands into fists.
“Francesca had also said this to me weeks ago when she was trying to console me over our relationship’s ending. She brought it up again to try and make it seem like her bribes were meant to protect me since we weren’t right for each other. She also used the whole ‘I was doing what I thought was best for my son.’ But I let her have it.”
“I’m sure you did.” Gregory laughs. “I wish I had been there.”
“Well, she didn’t let me rejoice in my triumph over her—if you can call it that—for long. In fact, the discussion was quite short. She went from trying to get me to understand to being a bitch. Francesca accused me of using her son, and then she said she was wrong about me and that Lorenzo deserves a better woman than me. She stormed off after that. And I left her apartment.”
“The spoiled diva threw a tantrum instead of owning up to her sins.”
“Well, she did own up to them in her own way, and she did apologize.”
“But it was a halfhearted attempt.”
“I know.” I can’t disguise the sadness in my voice.
“I’m sorry, Pia. I know you were beginning to grow fond of her.”
“I’m disappointed in her. That’s all. And once again, she’s hurt those closest to her—Lorenzo.” My voice trails off as I remember how sad he looked when I left him at the Via Appia Antica.
“Did you tell him?”
I nod my head. I can’t talk at the moment. Having seen Lorenzo in pain and knowing I was the cause of it is too much for me to bear.
“Take your time. Do you want to use the bathroom?”
I shake my head no. Gregory gets up and walks over to the window, giving me time to compose myself.
“I hurt him so bad, Gregory.”
Gregory turns around, surprise registering on his face.
“You were just delivering the news to him, Pia. You’re not the one who used him and manipulated his life. Francesca’s all g
uilty there.”
“You don’t understand, Gregory. He let me go.”
“He let you go?”
“Lorenzo could tell I was still in love with you, but I didn’t want to break his heart. He told me that even when we were together, he knew I still had feelings for you. He said that because he truly cares about me he wants me to be happy.” I start sobbing, feeling guilty all over again.
Gregory comes to my side and rubs my back.
“Shhh! It’s okay. You’re a good person. But you know staying with him would have done more harm in the end, right? He would’ve always sensed you weren’t giving yourself fully to him, and you wouldn’t have been happy.”
“I know. I just feel so bad. He’s a good person, too, and has been through so much, especially lately.”
Gregory leaves my side and goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a few tissues and hands them to me.
“Thanks.” I blow my nose.
We’re both quiet for a while. I’m still amazed at how patient Gregory has always been. Instead of urging me to go on, he just waits until I’m ready to do so.
“I left Francesca a letter and told her I couldn’t continue working on her autobiography.”
“How do you feel about that? I know how excited you were when she gave you that opportunity.”
“I don’t care. Gregory, being in Rome has made me realize a lot about myself. I accused you of being so focused on your painting once you were discovered, but I wasn’t that different. That day at your apartment when I thought you and Madeline were together, I wasn’t lying when I told you that I had used you to score an interview with Francesca. There is some truth to that. I’m sorry. I feel really horrible about it now. But I was also attracted to you. I was drawn to you from that first night when I met you in front of Signora Tesca’s house. Yet I also knew that you would be my ticket for gaining access to Francesca. I was quite opportunistic. Now, I don’t even care about my writing career or where it will go.”
“Thank you for your honesty, Pia. I admit it. When you told me that day at my place that you had used me to get to Francesca, it stung. But I knew anger was making you say those words, too. I don’t blame you for hoping I could help you get an interview with Francesca. I just see that as your being motivated and going after what you want in life. I commend you for it. So stop beating yourself up about it.”
Carissima Page 47
