Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop (25 page)

“She's getting old. Her palate is changing. I've heard the other workers who have tried your pastries express how good yours are and how they're often better than everyone else's.”

Rosalia folded her hands in her lap.
He is falling in love with me.
He'd said it! Though she was frightened to hear this, she couldn't deny that she was also elated.

Antonio came back to the bed and sat down next to her. This time, he closed the space between them. He pushed her hair back behind her ear, and then took her face in both of his hands. She had no choice but to look at him.

“I love you, Rosalia. I know you say we haven't known each other long, and we need to just think about today, but I'm tired of keeping how I feel about you inside of me. I love you. And nothing is going to change that. I'll wait for you. Whenever you are ready, I will be here, and I promise you my feelings won't change. Do you hear me?”

Antonio stared intensely into Rosalia's eyes. She nodded.

He then kissed her gently. They held on to each other, letting their bodies recline back onto the bed. Rosalia felt very tired. Hearing Antonio's admission of his love for her, and feeling all the emotions that came with hearing how he felt, had sapped her of her energy. She supposed she'd always known Antonio loved her. She just wouldn't let herself believe it. But now there was no denying it.

She loved him, too. But for now, she must wait before she told him how she felt. Still, she wondered if he would still love her once he knew about her past. No. She could not tell him just yet that she had also fallen in love. For she still needed to protect herself.

17

Zeppole

SAINT JOSEPH'S DAY DOUGHNUTS

 

 

 

 

A
ntonio and Rosalia were rolling furiously down the hill, picking up weeds and dandelions in their hair. They laughed and screamed, fully giving in to childlike abandon. Antonio reached the bottom of the hill first, and soon after Rosalia tumbled on top of him. They continued to laugh. Once they calmed down, Antonio reached over and kissed Rosalia. She was blissfully happy. Ever since Antonio had revealed his love for her, the time they spent together felt different—magical.

Today was the feast day of Saint Joseph, and it also happened to be Monday, which was their day off from working in the pastry shop. Rosalia had packed panini and zeppole—the customary sweet that was made in honor of Saint Joseph's Day. Yesterday, she and the other workers had made several large batches of the fried sweet. Madre Carmela had told her she could take a few to share with Antonio on their outing.

“We're going to look a fright when we return to the convent!” Rosalia laughed.

“I'm sure we'll receive one of Sorella Domenica's scowls.” Antonio grimaced, imitating the nun's sour expression.

“Stop!” Rosalia laughed hard, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I'm hungry after all that rolling up and down the hill. I can't believe we did it more than once. I'll probably lose my balance once I stand up. Do you want a few zeppole?” Antonio stood up, wiping the weeds and dandelion petals from his clothes.

“I can never say no to zeppole.”

Rosalia stood up and pulled at a dandelion that was caught in her hair's long strands. She mentally scolded herself for not wearing her hair up today. It would take her forever to get all the weeds and petals out. Then a thought flashed through her mind. What if their appearances led the nuns to believe they had been doing more than having an innocent picnic? She looked at Antonio with fear in her eyes.

“What is it, Rosalia?” Antonio quickly came to her side.

“Look at us! What will the sisters think? We have to make ourselves look more presentable.” Frantically, she began shaking out her dress until Antonio stilled her hands.

“Rosalia, calm down. We will fix our clothes and hair. There is nothing to get so worked up about.”

Rosalia paused for a moment before nodding. She then felt embarrassed, realizing how crazy she must've sounded and looked.

“I'm sorry. It's just . . . I don't want them thinking the worst about me.”

“I don't think that would happen. They all love you very much. You have nothing to worry about, Rosalia.”

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. “You don't understand, Antonio.”

“Then make me understand. Please, Rosalia. I want to be here for you. I think you know by now you can trust me and open up to me.”

She hesitated for a moment. Could she finally tell him about Marco? Her chest suddenly felt constricted, and sweat began to bead her forehead. Breaking free from Antonio, she bent down and busied herself by laying out the blanket she had brought for their picnic. She then took out the panini of prosciutto and tomatoes she had prepared. Of course, Antonio had skipped right to their dessert of the zeppole before they had their midday meal. He had a weakness for sweets, and sometimes she wondered if he was right in wanting to become a chef rather than a pastry chef.

Rosalia was startled by Antonio's kicking a few small rocks as he walked away. The way he carried his body, and seeing his lips drawn tightly together, showed Rosalia he was angry. She thought about calling after him, but decided to leave him alone.

She stopped preparing their picnic and clasped her hands in her lap. Naturally, he was upset with her. While he never had become angry with her directly, she knew that even Antonio, who was normally so even-tempered and thoughtful, had his breaking point. It was probably just a matter of time before he would grow tired of her refusal to tell him what had happened to her and why she was estranged from her family. Tears rolled down her face. She desperately wanted to open up to him, but every time she thought about doing so, the fear took hold. She'd heard stories growing up about what happened to young women whose innocence had been compromised. And she'd also heard stories about women who were engaged, but then were attacked by another man, and their fiancés had immediately left them as if it were their fault, as if they had asked to be violated. Rosalia began to get mad. She thought about her father. From what Signora Tucci had said, Rosalia's father seemed to believe Rosalia had willingly left with Marco. Rosalia's father believed she had been intimate with Marco and was pregnant with his child. Papà should have known her. He should have known she would never do such a thing, and that she would never bring shame upon her family. But he hadn't known his daughter at all.

And here she was, desperately trying to find her family—not just to be reunited with them again, but also to prove to her father that she was not guilty of what he thought. She should have been angry that he had chosen to leave and that he had believed she really wanted to be with Marco. Papà had let her down terribly. If her own father had believed the worst about her, what would Antonio think—a young man who had only known her for a few months?

Rosalia noticed a shadow and looked up to see Antonio. He dropped down to his knees and took her hands in his. Tears were still streaming down her face.

“I'm sorry, Rosalia. Please, don't be upset that I lost my temper.”

Rosalia shook her head, taking one of her hands out from beneath his grasp and placing it on top of Antonio's hand.

“I'm not crying because you got upset. I don't blame you for getting mad at me. I'm just mad at myself that I can't open up to you. I want to. You have to believe that, Antonio, but it's still very hard for me.”

“When I was walking toward you, I noticed you looked mad even though you're crying. You can be honest with me, Rosalia, and tell me if you're upset with me.”

“I was thinking about my father. I was feeling anger toward him—and sadness, too.” She sighed deeply before continuing. “I promise you, Antonio, I will tell you everything someday. I just need to do so when I'm ready. I hope you can continue to understand.”

“Of course, I can. Like I told you that day in the abandoned chapel, I will wait for you as long as it takes. I promise.”

A few flies swirled around the food Rosalia had laid out on the blanket. She swatted them away with her hands.

“Let's eat and enjoy the rest of Saint Joseph's Day.”

They ate ravenously, making comments here and there about how good the food was. Rosalia's thoughts turned once again to her father. Regret began to fill her heart—regret that she had become angry with him and on Saint Joseph's Day of all days. Saint Joseph was the patron saint of fathers. On this feast day, she should have been thinking of all the good memories she had of her father. How he had shown her how to sew when she was a little girl . . . the pride he had instilled in her when she worked alongside him in his tailor shop . . . the gifts he would give her whenever he also gave one to her mother so that she wouldn't feel left out. Still, like Antonio, she was only human. She had been angry with her father for believing Marco's lies and for abandoning her. She was even a little mad with her mother and Luca for agreeing with Papà's decision to leave their hometown. But she had not been letting herself feel anger these past four months since discovering they were gone.

She then remembered Madre Carmela's words, explaining that her family had no choice but to leave if they hoped to make a living since the townspeople were no longer frequenting Rosalia's father's tailor shop. They needed to go on living—even without Rosalia. And she supposed she needed to go on living, too, without her family. But how could she when she had no idea what had become of them? Were they still struggling financially? Had her father been able to successfully set up shop somewhere else? How was Mamma faring without one of her children by her side?

No, Rosalia could not go on living until she knew that her family was safe and sound.

18

Pane di Pasqua

EASTER BREAD

 

 

 

 

R
osalia watched Madre Carmela as she quickly braided several loaves of Easter bread dough. Rosalia was still amazed at how quickly Madre worked in the kitchen. Maybe someday Rosalia would be able to work just as quickly. Her job was to insert hard-boiled eggs into the holes within each loaf of bread. Rosalia had chosen brown and white eggs to add some color. Once she was done inserting the eggs, she brushed an egg wash over the bread to make it glisten after it was baked.

Today was Easter, and the lay workers and nuns would be celebrating with a large dinner. Rosalia was glad the season of Lent and abstinence was over, and she could once again have the many sweets tempting her every day at the pastry shop. Madre Carmela had bought a lamb at the butcher shop in town and had been marinating it overnight in white wine, fresh oregano, rosemary, and thyme. She was going to roast it and prepare a special red wine sauce to drizzle over the lamb while it was cooking.

After dinner, Rosalia was going to spend the rest of the afternoon with Antonio. They were planning on taking a stroll along the beach. The temperature was expected to reach in the mid-sixties today. While it wasn't exactly beach weather, it would still be nice enough to enjoy a walk by the shore. Rosalia would just make sure to bring a light sweater. She was looking forward to going to the beach and spending time with Antonio. Though she had tried to rein in her feelings for him since she didn't know what the future held for them, she found it near impossible. Every day they spent together, she found herself admiring him more. And she even looked forward to his caresses and kisses. He was still being the utmost gentleman and had not tried to take their physical relationship further, which relieved Rosalia tremendously.

“Will you and Antonio be going out after our Easter dinner?” Madre Carmela broke in on Rosalia's thoughts.

“We will. Since the day is so nice, we were thinking of taking a walk at the beach. Antonio is borrowing his friend's car so we can drive there.”

“That will be nice.” Madre Carmela knitted her brows as if she were deep in thought.

“Maybe Antonio will ask Rosalia to marry him, and they'll go live somewhere nice.” Anunziata, who was using molds to shape lamb marzipans, which were popular during Easter, chimed in.

“Please, don't say that.” Rosalia blushed, anger filling her. Why couldn't Anunziata just keep her mouth shut and not have to embarrass her?

“Why, Rosalia? You don't see yourself marrying a nice boy like Antonio?” Madre Carmela asked, surprising Rosalia.

Until now, Madre had not inquired much about her growing friendship with Antonio except to ask if they would be spending their free days together and where they would be going. Now Rosalia realized Antonio was right in thinking Madre suspected they were more than just friends. Still, she was surprised that Madre would be so direct, especially where Rosalia's personal life was concerned. But though she could be angry with Anunziata, Rosalia could never be mad at Madre Carmela.

Rosalia lowered her eyes as she quickly brushed egg wash onto the next loaf of Easter bread. “I don't know. Antonio is a nice boy, but he has plans, and there is still so much that is uncertain in my own life.”

“You feel that you cannot think about your future until you know where your family is.”

Rosalia stopped working and looked up at Madre Carmela. She could see compassion in her eyes.

“That is true, Madre. And then there's . . .” Rosalia let her voice trail off.

Her heart began to pound. This was all too much for her. She didn't want to talk about it.

“What happened to you.” Anunziata finished Rosalia's sentence.

Rosalia merely nodded her head.

Madre Carmela came over to Rosalia's side. She wiped her hands with a damp towel and then grabbed Rosalia by both arms, startling her.

“Listen to me, my dear child.” She brought her face closer to Rosalia's, forcing Rosalia to look at her. “Do not let what happened to you in that cave destroy any future happiness you can have. Antonio is a wonderful young man. He is not that evil person who kidnapped you. Do you understand?” Madre squeezed Rosalia's shoulders as she asked her question.

Rosalia nodded once again.

“He cares about you, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Tears quickly slid down Rosalia's face as she whispered, “But he doesn't know. He might not feel the same about me once he finds out.”

“You are not giving Antonio enough credit. Anyone can see that boy worships you.” Madre Carmela finally let go of Rosalia's arms. She returned to her loaves of Easter bread, quickly braiding them. She seemed upset.

“Do you like him, Rosalia?” Anunziata asked.

“Very much. It's just . . . I'm afraid.”

“Oh, Rosalia!” Anunziata came over and wrapped her arm around Rosalia's shoulders.

Madre Carmela stopped working and looked up. Tears were in her eyes.

“I'm sorry if I was too direct with you, Rosalia, but I can tell you are still punishing yourself over what happened, and that is what makes me mad. You are not to blame at all for what that horrible man did to you. But I can see why you are afraid of what Antonio's reaction will be once he learns about it. After all, your own father seemed to believe the lies in Marco's letter.”

Rosalia began to sob aloud. It was the first time since her ordeal that she had allowed herself to completely lose control. Hearing Madre voice that her father had possibly believed Marco's lies was too much for her to bear. Rosalia had been doing her best to push the pain away. Push away the pain of losing her innocence . . . the pain of losing her family . . . the pain of her father's letting her down.

“It's all right, my child. Let it out. No one is judging you here.”

Rosalia was grateful the other nuns and workers weren't present in the kitchen. Madre had assigned them to clean the convent and make sure it was pristine for the holiday. Rosalia continued to cry, her chest heaving with every sob. Once she calmed down and had wiped her tears with a handkerchief Anunziata handed her, Madre Carmela held out a small plate of marzipan fruit—her usual balm for making the hurt go away. And just as with the other times Madre had given her marzipan or whatever sweet, Rosalia felt better.

“
Grazie,
Madre. And you, too, Anunziata. I'm sorry I became so upset.”

“It's nothing. Please. Don't be sorry. We've all been amazed at your strength these past few months. If it were me, I would have fallen apart.” Anunziata patted Rosalia's shoulder.

“Enough sadness for today. Just think about what I said, Rosalia. Give Antonio a chance, and give yourself a chance to truly be happy.” Madre lowered her head, forcing Rosalia to meet her gaze once again.

“I'll try, Madre.”

“Good. Now, let's celebrate our Lord's resurrection and enjoy Easter.”

 

After dinner, Antonio and Rosalia left for the beach. They rolled down the car windows and chatted all the way to the beach. Rosalia almost forgot about the conversation she'd had with Madre and Anunziata, but every so often she would remember. Perhaps she should finally confide in Antonio and tell him what had happened to her.

Antonio broke in on her thoughts. “I have a surprise for you when we get to the beach.”

“You do?”

Antonio smiled as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I guess I can't get it out of you.”

“No, of course not. It wouldn't be a surprise then. Just trust me.”

“All right.”

Antonio took his eyes off the road for a moment and smiled at Rosalia. Steering the car with one hand, he used his free one to pick up Rosalia's hand and press a kiss to it. He held her hand until they reached the beach and it was time for him to park.

As they walked toward the beach, she noticed a few people on bicycles riding on a gravel path that began before the sand that led to the water. The path wrapped all the way around the parking lot. It was a nice day for a bike ride. Papà had taught Rosalia and Luca how to ride a bicycle when they each turned eight. He felt that was the safe age for them to learn. She remembered how jealous she had been when Luca had learned and how she had pouted. They could only afford one bike—the family
bicicletta,
as they called it, since they all took turns riding it, except for little Cecilia, who had still been too young to ride a bicycle. Rosalia still remembered her utter joy after she had mastered balancing the bike on her own. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let herself fully experience the emotions she had felt on that day that seemed so long ago now.

Opening her eyes, she was glad to see Antonio seemed preoccupied and was looking straight ahead. He hadn't noticed how absorbed she'd been in her thoughts. He stopped before what looked like a garage. People were pulling up on their bicycles while others were taking off. She then realized it was a bike rental shop. Antonio got into the line of people waiting to rent a bicycle.

“What are you doing?” Rosalia asked.

“This is my surprise. I thought it would be fun to take a bicycle ride before we go on to the beach. You do know how to ride a bike? I suppose I should have asked you that earlier.” Antonio looked annoyed with himself.

“
Si, si!
I love nothing more! When I noticed the people riding on the bicycles as we were walking toward here I was remembering how my father had taught my brother and me to ride, and how much I missed it.
Grazie,
Antonio!” Rosalia reached over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank God! I was worried my surprise was ruined.” Antonio smiled and kissed Rosalia back.

Once they received their bicycles, they set off. Rosalia followed Antonio's lead, making sure to keep to the right as people returning from their rides were coming in the opposite direction. After pedaling for fifteen minutes, Antonio made a left turn, and soon there were no other bicyclists on the path. They seemed to be getting farther and farther away from the beach.

“Where are you going?” Rosalia shouted to Antonio.

“There's a small park this way. Not many people know about it. I thought it would be nice to go somewhere quiet. Don't worry. We'll make it back to the beach in time for the sunset, and the beach will be quieter then too. I just want you all to myself.” Antonio looked over his shoulder, flashing a grin.

She pedaled harder to catch up to him. All along the way he had been a few feet ahead of her, but he would turn around every so often to make sure she was keeping up. She realized her physical strength still had not fully returned. Mustering every bit of it, she finally caught up to Antonio.

“You're killing me, Antonio! I'm out of breath. Please, let's slow down.”

“I'm sorry! I'm just used to riding fast.” He slowed down.

They rode the rest of the way to the park at a leisurely pace. Soon, a small sign pointing to the park came into view. It was hard to see since a pear cactus plant stood next to it, obscuring it partially from sight.

Antonio got off his bike and held Rosalia's bicycle still while she alighted.

“How do you know about this park?”

“I overheard a couple talking about it when I was in town to buy supplies the other day.”

They left their bikes perched against a tree before walking down a narrow pathway that was lined with bushes on either side. Soon the path opened up to a small field. Antonio had been right that they would be alone here.

He took off the canvas satchel he wore strapped around his chest and reached into it, taking out a rolled up bedsheet.

“Help me lay this out.”

Rosalia took the opposite end of the sheet, and they placed it on the ground. She then kicked off her sandals and placed them on the corners of the sheet to hold it down. Antonio did the same with his sandals. They then sat down. Rosalia looked at the different plants, trees, and wildflowers that were planted around the park.

“And here is surprise number two.” He pulled out of his satchel a bottle of white wine.

“You are full of surprises today! What has gotten into you?” Rosalia laughed.

“It's Easter.”

“
Si,
Easter. Not Christmas!
Grazie,
Antonio, but you don't need to surprise me.”

“I want to.” His eyes met Rosalia's.

He held her gaze for a moment. Rosalia swallowed hard. He was looking at her with desire in his eyes. Was that why he had brought her to this quiet place?

As if reading her thoughts, Antonio said, “We won't stay long. I know you wanted to take a walk along the beach, and if we hope to make the sunset we'll have to go soon since we have a long bicycle ride back.”

“That is true.” Rosalia silently uttered a prayer of thanks.

He poured wine into two small wooden cups he had brought.

“
Salute!
” He tapped Rosalia's cup as he toasted. “To our health and happiness.”

“
Salute!
” Rosalia grinned before taking a sip of wine.

She listened to the birds chirping all around them. Leaning back on her elbows, she closed her eyes, enjoying the peacefulness of their surroundings.

“You're so beautiful, Rosalia,” Antonio whispered into her ear.

She opened her eyes and saw he was lying back, propped up on one of his elbows. He stared at her and, soon, with his free hand, he tucked a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear before bringing his face closer to hers and then kissing her.