Carissima

by Rosanna Chiofalo

  “Someone has to. You’re not beating me up. Lorenzo didn’t beat me up.”

  “It’s because we care about you, and we know you’re not a calculating person.”

  “Rome has also made me see that I need to go back home to California and fully deal with losing my sister. I never talked to a counselor or anyone about it until I met you. I don’t want to run anymore as I’ve been doing, as you pointed out to me in New York.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Pia.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me that, because it was true. When I left California, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to return. But these past few weeks, I have finally been missing it and my family. While I grew to love Astoria and being with my aunt, my true home is the West Coast. And interning at Profile made me all the more aware that I’m not cut out to work for a cutthroat magazine. Manhattan is great, don’t get me wrong, but I could never see myself living there.”

  “So you’ve already decided you’re definitely going back to California?” Gregory is seated on the bed again, but this time he’s on the side, facing away from me.

  “Yes, I have decided to return home.”

  “I guess Lorenzo was wrong when he thought you were still in love with me.”

  “I am still in love with you.”

  Gregory looks up at me.

  “Then why have you chosen to go back to California?”

  “I was hoping that somehow I could convince you to spend some time with me on my home turf. You know I could take you around, like you did with me in Long Island City and Manhattan. Show you more of who I am and where I come from. And then maybe we can figure out what’s next.”

  As I say all of this, I keep my head turned away from Gregory. I’ve grabbed the pen on the desk and have been doodling aimlessly. I’m so absorbed and frightened of Gregory’s reaction that I haven’t noticed he’s left the bed and is standing behind me until I feel his arms cross my chest. As I close my eyes, tears escape once again, but this time they’re tears of relief. For I know without Gregory’s speaking what his answer is.

  I rise from my chair. Gregory turns me around to face him and kisses me, softly at first, then urgently. I start laughing, and so does he, but I also see that he’s crying, too.

  “Please forgive me for not trusting you and for running away from you,” I say as I hold Gregory’s face in my hands and look into his eyes.

  “Only if you swear to never do that again.”

  “I swear.”

  “I love you, Pia. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry it took me so long to believe it. I love you, too. I never stopped loving you.”

  “So I guess I’ll be booking the next flight to California.”

  “Actually, I was hoping that we could stay a few more days in Rome. I can’t tell you how many times I wished you were with me when I was visiting the sites.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “I guess it’s okay if I stay here in your room, then?”

  “Do you even have to ask?”

  I giggle as Gregory lifts me in his arms and drops me on his bed. We make love over and over again until I notice the sun has set and it’s dark outside. Gregory soon falls asleep beside me. I stare at him for a long time, making sure this is real. A flash of light from the window catches my attention. I walk over and look out. Fireworks are going off over the Trevi Fountain, which is all lit up. I can’t decide if I like the view of the fountain more in the day or at night. Suddenly, I remember the three wishes I made at the Trevi Fountain shortly after arriving in Rome. I wished that I would return to Rome, see my sister Erica someday in heaven, and see Gregory again. I didn’t even care in that moment that I thought he had cheated on me or if we would ever get together again. I just knew I wanted to see him at least one more time. Maybe part of me did always know deep down that he hadn’t betrayed me. I was too afraid of the powerful feelings I had for him and that, like Erica, I’d lose him, too.

  Before I leave the window, I send another wish out toward the Trevi Fountain. This time, I wish that nothing ever separates us again.

  EPILOGUE

  Pia

  Dear Pia,

  Congratulations on the Profile article! Colin Cohen sent me copies of the issue. I was very pleased with the article. Thank you so much for honoring your word and not revealing the personal details of Lorenzo’s true parentage in the piece. I wanted to also thank you for casting me in such a positive light, especially after what transpired between us.

  Once again, Pia, I am truly sorry for the pain I caused you and Gregory. Lorenzo is not talking to me, but I have only myself to blame for that. I hope that one day you both can forgive me, and I am being sincere now when I say that I did admire and respect you. I still do. That last day in Rome, I did not mean what I said to you about my son deserving a better woman. I was ashamed over my actions, and I did what I often do, I lashed out unjustly.

  There are two possessions of mine I wanted you to have. One is enclosed in this package, and the other Gregory will be delivering himself. He had no idea I would be giving you this other possession. But I thought it fitting if he delivered it himself. You’ll understand why when you see it. I hope you enjoy both gifts, and I wish you the happiness that seems to have always eluded my own life. I have only learned recently what it truly is like to be happy.

  Francesca

  Six months have passed since I left Rome. After spending three months with me in California, Gregory decided to make the move to California permanent. We’re renting an apartment right on the beach in Carlsbad. Gregory found a new art dealer to work with, and he’ll be having shows both in New York and L.A.

  I’ve been in therapy since returning home, and I finally feel like I’m starting to heal from losing Erica. The beach doesn’t haunt me anymore. Instead, I choose to remember all the happy times I shared with Erica and my family growing up on the beach. My mother is doing better, too. We all are. I could tell my family was happy to hear that I had decided to come back home. Now I can’t believe I even entertained thoughts of moving to New York for good. And to put a lid on any doubts that might have resurfaced, when I was taking my walk along the beach early this morning, I spotted a seal. Of course I was immediately taken back to when Erica and I were children and had taken such pleasure at seeing the seals. I knew this was a sign that I’d made the right choice.

  Zia has agreed to visit us in the summer. She’s finally going to take a vacation and close the shop for the entire month of August. Mom said Zia’s never taken a vacation in the twenty-three years she’s owned her bakery. Gregory and I are planning on spending Christmas in New York later this year. Connie and Lou got engaged while we were in Rome, and Gregory is going to be Lou’s best man. Zia told me that Connie is going to be wearing the knockoff of the gown that Francesca Donata wore in La Sposa Pazza—the same gown I was admiring that day shortly after I’d arrived in Astoria. I’m a bit surprised since I pictured Connie in a more daring, alternative wedding dress. But I guess when it comes to a bride’s special day, many girls still long just to be the traditional princess in white.

  With that last thought, I look at the gift that was enclosed in Francesca’s package along with her letter. It’s the beautiful jeweled hair comb Francesca was wearing when we had lunch at Trattoria L’incontro in Astoria. She must’ve noticed how I was constantly eyeing the comb while we were eating. I take the comb out of its velvet-lined case and insert it into the side of my hair. It looks dazzling, but thankfully, I don’t feel any different wearing a former prized possession of Francesca Donata’s. Though I let go of my anger toward Francesca months ago, I don’t want to keep the comb. Taking it out of my hair, I decide to send it instead to Olivia DeLuca. I’ll even suggest to her in my note that she may want to give it to Connie as her “borrowed” item to wear on her wedding day. It’ll be perfect since Connie will be wearing the knockoff of the gown Francesca wore in her film, and now she’ll have a piece o
f jewelry that actually belonged to her. I’m sure Olivia won’t want to give the comb to Connie permanently. She’s still just as obsessed with Francesca.

  “I’m home!” Gregory shouts as he stumbles through the door with a large wrapped board.

  “Hey! You’ll never guess who I heard from.” I run over and kiss him. Gregory lowers the bulky item he’s carrying.

  “Francesca.”

  “How did you know?”

  “She called me last week when I was in New York and asked me to deliver this to you. She also told me you’d be receiving a letter and package from her today.”

  “And you’re only telling me this now?”

  “You’ll see why I waited when you open it up.”

  “So you know what this is?”

  Gregory turns his back toward me so that I can’t read his expression.

  “Secrets! I thought we swore to tell the truth above all.”

  “Hey! I’m not lying about anything. Just open this already. I killed myself getting this up here.”

  I rip open the brown paper covering the board and gasp when I see my own face staring back at me.

  “My nude portrait! I don’t understand.”

  “After you got upset with me, on the night of my first show, I had decided I wasn’t going to sell it anymore. But that was before I knew that someone had already paid cash for it earlier in the night, during the show. Nathan Horowitz wouldn’t tell me who the buyer was, and he insisted he couldn’t get the painting back. He said that would ruin my reputation as an artist, and I’d be finished, not to mention that his name as a dealer would get run through the muck as well. I was going to tell you, but then we got into our fight and broke up.”

  “And you haven’t thought to tell me since we got back together?”

  “You hadn’t brought up the painting, and honestly, it escaped my mind. I’ve been so focused on moving here and building our life together. I guess the couple of times I thought about it, I was afraid it was going to bring up mixed feelings for you. I’m sorry. When Francesca called me last week, I almost hung up on her, but not before I gave her a piece of my mind for breaking us up. She begged me not to hang up and told me she had something important to tell me about you. Of course, she hooked me. Francesca revealed that she was the buyer of your portrait. She said she really wanted you to have it. So she had asked Signora Tesca’s butler Carlo to give me the painting. Francesca had never gotten around to having it shipped to her home in Italy. She even instructed Carlo to give me a check for shipping the painting to California. I asked her why she bought the painting if now she was giving it away. Francesca said the look in your eyes in your portrait reminded her of a time in her life when she had that same expression. She immediately fell in love with the painting and wanted also to help me out as a new artist, but didn’t want me to know she was the buyer. Francesca said she no longer needs the painting to remind her of that time in her life because she’s recaptured that feeling.”

  “She’s so weird.” I shake my head.

  “Are you ready for what she told me next?”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Let me show you since I guess you haven’t been out today.”

  Gregory pulls out a magazine from one of the pockets in his cargo pants and hands it to me. It’s a copy of Starstruck, a trashy tabloid. The headline screams, “CRAZY BRIDE FINALLY TIES THE KNOT!”

  “And you believe this?”

  “Francesca told me herself before I even saw the tabloids in the supermarket. Not long after we left Rome, Rocco proposed to her. They got married in the Italian Alps.”

  “I’m shocked! I mean, I know Rocco was crazy about her, but I’m shocked that Francesca finally went through with a wedding. And I can’t believe she’s managed to keep it a secret for six months, not to mention that you were able to keep it from me for a week!”

  “That’s only because I was dying to surprise you with your painting. If I had told you I found out she and Rocco got hitched, you would’ve wanted to know how I had learned. And I couldn’t say I’d spoken to Francesca without your getting suspicious. I’m sure the rest of the world is as shocked as you are over her recent nuptials. Anyway, that’s what she must’ve been alluding to when she said she no longer needed the portrait of you to remind her of a time when she had that look. Your portrait must’ve reminded her of when she was young and in love with Lorenzo’s father Dante. As you said, she never really forgot him—until Rocco. Who would think that a down-to-earth small businessman from Astoria would finally be the one to get La Sposa Pazza to the altar?”

  I remember the last lines in Francesca’s letter about how she only recently discovered what it’s like to be truly happy. Even when she was with Dante, she was never really content. She’d been too addicted to fame to give it up and be with the man she loved.

  I had felt sad to read in her letter that Lorenzo is no longer talking to her. Of course, that came as no surprise to me, but it still saddens me to think they were reunited only to be separated again. I haven’t heard from Lorenzo since the day we broke up. Connie told me she has seen him at Signora Tesca’s house a few times, and he seemed fine. Someday, I hope he finds in his life the love I have found.

  “Gregory, I’m going to send Francesca a note thanking her for her gifts, especially the painting. I’m also going to tell her that I no longer harbor any ill feelings. And I’m going to send her a gift of my own.” I can’t help but smirk.

  “You’re not.”

  “Why not? I think she’ll be honored in a way.”

  I walk over to my desk and pick up a magazine. A month after I moved back to California, I decided to make my dream of starting my own magazine a reality. That’s what I always really wanted. And after my experiences at Profile and with Francesca, I decided I never wanted to work with another celebrity again. Gregory has helped me tremendously, and I received a grant to help with the funding.

  The magazine targets career-minded young women. Gregory and I came up with the title together—Signorina!

  “Do you think Francesca will be sad when she sees your magazine’s title since her marital status has now changed?”

  Gregory walks over and stands behind me as he places his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist. I look up into his face and give him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “Oh, I’m sure in Francesca’s mind, she’ll always be ‘signorina.’ ”

  RECIPES FOR CARISSIMA

  Biscotti d’Anise (Anise Cookies)

  1½ cups all-purpose flour ½ cup sugar

  ½ teaspoon baking powder 2 large eggs, at room temperature

  ¼ teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons anise extract

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened 1 cup lightly toasted walnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)

  Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter and flour a large baking sheet.

  Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt.

  In the large bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter until light and creamy. Beat in the sugar until fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Beat in the anise extract. On low speed, beat in the flour mixture until combined. Stir in the nuts if using them.

  Shape the dough into two 12- by 1½-inch logs on the prepared baking sheet. Smooth the sides with a rubber spatula. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the logs are lightly browned and firm when pressed lightly in the center. Remove from the oven but do not turn it off. Let the logs cool for 10 minutes.

  Slide the logs onto a cutting board and cut diagonally into ½-inch-thick slices. Stand the biscotti on the baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes, or until the cookies are lightly toasted. Transfer to wire racks to cool.

  Muffuletta (Submarine-style Sandwich)

  1 large round Italian bread 1 tablespoon fresh parsley

  Extra virgin olive oil 4 or 5 scallions

  Olive paste Ground black pepper to taste

  Sundried tomatoes ¼ pound sliced prosciutto

  3-4 plum tomatoes, sliced Block of font
ina or any other sharp cheese of your liking, sliced thin

  1 tablespoon capers

  2 tablespoons marinated artichoke hearts

  Cut loaf of Italian bread in half. Scoop out the excess bread crumbs from both halves. Place top half aside.

  Drizzle extra virgin olive oil on bottom half of the loaf of bread.

  Spread olive paste on bottom half of loaf.

  Add sundried tomatoes.

  Add the plum tomato slices, followed by the capers, artichoke hearts, parsley, and scallions.

  Add the black pepper.

  Lastly, add the slices of prosciutto and fontina cheese.

  Drizzle extra virgin olive oil on top half of loaf. Place top half on top of bottom half of loaf that has all the ingredients.

  Wrap muffuletta tightly with wax paper.

  Place three dinner plates on top of wrapped muffuletta and place in the refrigerator overnight if time allows. If time does not allow, then let the plates rest on top of the muffuletta for at least 15 minutes.

  Ravioli Fritti (Fried Pastry Ravioli)

  SHELL

  4 cups flour 1 tablespoon sugar

  2 eggs 1 cup warm water

  3 tablespoons vegetable oil

  FILLING

  3 pounds ricotta 1 egg yolk

  2 cups sugar (taste for desired sweetness) 1–2 teaspoons cinnamon (taste for desired sweetness)

  ADDITIONAL INGREDIENTS

  2 egg yolks beaten with 1 teaspoon water, for egg wash ¾ cup vegetable oil

  Confectioners’ sugar

  Dust a large, flat, clean surface with flour. Then pour 4 cups of flour and form a small hill with your hands. With the end of a wooden spoon, dig a small hole in the center of the flour.