Shaken to the Core (16 page)

Kate took her fork and twisted a small bundle of bucatini around it, but somehow it kept growing and growing. No way could she fit that into her mouth, so she had to start over again. It took her a few tries, but she finally managed to form a small pasta beehive and lift it to her mouth.

A blend of contrasting flavors exploded on her tongue—the salty aroma of the sardines and a slight bitterness mixing with the sweetness of plump raisins. She barely managed to remember her manners and abstain from licking her fork.

“This is wonderful,” she said to Giuliana, who beamed as if she had single-handedly cooked the dish and created the recipe.

Somehow, they both managed to empty their plates and even ordered a dessert, a light, foamy custard called
zabaglione
.
Giuliana explained that it was made of egg yolks, marsala wine, and sugar beaten over a pan of simmering water.

Maybe it was the marsala, or maybe it was their laughter and the warm atmosphere in the small restaurant, but by the time they left the trattoria, Kate felt a little light-headed. She didn’t want their afternoon to end, but neither did she know how to prolong it.

They walked back down Montgomery Avenue toward the tower under construction, where they’d left behind the automobile.

When they were about to cross Broadway, a young man blocked their path.

Kate tensed and tried to tug Giuliana behind her, but Giuliana refused to take cover. She laughed, hugged the young man, and kissed him on both cheeks.

Stunned, Kate observed this open display of affection. Her mother would wash out her mouth with carbolic soap if she ever dared to greet a man like this, especially out on the street, for everyone to see. Who was he? Was he courting Giuliana, and that was why she greeted him so intimately? Or was it a custom in Sicily? Luigi had kissed Giuliana’s cheeks too.

Giuliana and the stranger began chatting in their own language. Kate stood back, feeling foolish and left out. She clutched the carrying case more tightly and cleared her throat.

That made Giuliana’s gaze dart over to her. “Oh, scusa. Sorry. This is Calogero Alioto. He is from my village, Santa Flavia.” She turned toward the bearded man, gestured toward Kate, and spoke to him in their own language.

Kate caught the words “signurina Kate,” which probably meant Miss Kate. So Giuliana had introduced her as her employer’s daughter, not as a friend. She wondered what else Giuliana told him about her.

The young man tipped his hat at Kate and continued to talk to Giuliana.

Not understanding a word, Kate observed the way Giuliana talked with her hands, expressing herself with her entire body. It was beautiful, but at the same time, it made Kate sad because she’d never seen Giuliana come to life that way when talking to her.

After a while, the man let out a gasp, making Kate wonder what Giuliana had told him. He pulled Giuliana into his arms and hugged her tightly. They talked for another minute and then exchanged two kisses on the cheeks before separating.

When they continued on their way, Giuliana was quiet.

Kate glanced over and did a double take. Was that a tear in Giuliana’s eye? Was it that heartbreaking for her to say good-bye to that young man? Kate failed to see what was so special about him. His nose was too long for his face; his beard had to tickle when Giuliana kissed him, and judging from the way he dressed, he was as poor as a church mouse.

Oh, come on now. Since when do you judge people by how much money they have?
But her resentment toward the stranger wouldn’t abate.

When they climbed into the automobile, Giuliana dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

Kate pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Giuliana blew her nose. She looked back and forth between Kate and the handkerchief as if not knowing what to do with it. “Eh, I wash it for you.”

“That’s all right. I don’t care about the stupid thing. Tell me what’s going on.” Kate pointed toward Broadway, where they had met Giuliana’s…friend. “Is he your betrothed?”

“What?” Giuliana’s brows pinched together as if she needed a moment to remember what that word meant. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, no. No. He is a friend. He came to Merica with us, but Calogero did not want to be a fisherman anymore. He works at the docks, carrying things when the big ships come in. I did not see him in many months. I…I spoke to him about Turi.”

Kate bit her lip until she tasted blood. How stupid of her to resent Calogero. She wanted to wrap her arms around Giuliana and hug her, the way he had done, but she didn’t dare.

“I asked him to write a letter to my mamma. I wanted to do this right away, but…” Giuliana sighed. “I did not know how to tell her. My mamma…her heart will break the day she hears what happened to Turi.”

Kate didn’t know what to say. Words seemed so inadequate, so she reached over and squeezed Giuliana’s hand.

Giuliana stilled, not moving her fingers beneath Kate’s. After a moment, she turned her hand and squeezed back.

They sat like that for a moment, the automobile’s engine the only sound between them. Finally, Kate pulled back her hand and put it on the steering wheel. “Home?”

Giuliana nodded.

CHAPTER 8

Winthrop Residence

Nob Hill

San Francisco, California

April 9, 1906

When Kate had wanted to disappear into her darkroom after returning from her stroll through the Italian quarter, her parents had protested, saying she hardly spent any time with them anymore. So it wasn’t until Monday after lunch that she got around to developing the photographs.

She left the most important plates until last. Now, with all the other photographs printed, she gently picked up the last four rectangular pieces of printing paper and placed them in the tray with the developing solution.

In the glow of her amber safelight, she watched as images started to emerge. Slowly, the lines on the faces of the old women appeared on the print, looking as lifelike as they had yesterday, when she had captured the image.

Kate let out a giddy little sound. Along with the photograph of the men playing bocce ball, these were the best pictures she’d ever taken. The
Call
’s editor would be a fool not to like them.

There was only one photograph that she wouldn’t show him. Kate stared down at Giuliana’s features emerging in the developer. She resisted the urge to swirl the picture with her print tongs to rush the process along. When she thought it was time, she gently picked up the images one by one with the tongs and dropped them into a stop bath for a few seconds to halt development. Next came the tray with the fixer, where they remained for a few minutes.

It was a familiar, soothing ritual, and she enjoyed being in her darkroom, shut away from the world and her parents’ expectations. Her mother had told her over breakfast that William Jenkins had telephoned while Kate had been out yesterday. He had asked her parents’ permission to take her out to the Palm Garden, one of the city’s finest restaurants, on Saturday. Of course, her parents had immediately given their approval, not even waiting to hear what Kate wanted.

The first print caused a little splash as she rinsed it in the tray full of water
. Careful,
careful! Don’t ruin it.
She washed away the last traces of chemicals and then hung up the picture on the clothesline that stretched through the tiny room. The last image she held in her hands longer than the others, lifting it up to the amber safelight.

Giuliana had looked directly at the camera, and now it was as if her dark eyes were gazing at Kate. Maybe it was just the amber glow of the oil lamp, but it seemed to Kate that Giuliana was looking at her with warmth and affection.

She shook her head at herself. Her fascination with Giuliana was quickly becoming an unhealthy obsession. At least that was what her parents would have called it. To Kate, it didn’t feel unhealthy at all.

A knock came at the door. “Kate? Are you still in there?” The disapproval in her mother’s voice was easy to discern, even through the thick wood.

“Yes, Mother,” Kate called back.

“Then hurry up, dear. I’m going to take you to the City of Paris to pick out a new dress for Saturday.”

Kate suppressed a groan. Trudging through the most expensive store in the city might be her mother’s idea of an enjoyable afternoon, but it sure as heck wasn’t hers. “I’ll be right there.” She hung the picture of Giuliana up on the clothesline, peered at it one last time, and then doused the oil lamp and slipped out of the darkroom.

* * *

Giuliana put the last of the dried dishes away and let her gaze trail over the kitchen. Everything was spotless and should satisfy even Mrs. Winthrop, should she decide to do one of her inspections.

She hung up the dish towel next to the still-warm range and stepped out into the hall to collect her coat and hat. Tomorrow was Sunday, and she looked forward to a day of rest, even if she wouldn’t get to spend it in North Beach, strolling through the park and eating good Sicilian food with Kate, as she had done last Sunday.

“Julie!” Mrs. Winthrop called as Giuliana walked past the parlor.

The anglicized version of her name made her grit her teeth, but she forced herself to smile as she peeked into the room, where Mrs. Winthrop sat in an armchair with a book on her lap. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I need you to stay a little longer today,” Mrs. Winthrop said.

“But I wanted to—”

“Mr. Jenkins is taking Kate to the Palm Garden. Surely you don’t expect her to get dressed all on her own, do you?”

Mrs. Winthrop’s piercing gaze left only one answer. “No, ma’am.” She wanted to ask why Biddy couldn’t do it, but it was better not to test Mrs. Winthrop’s patience. Besides, it wasn’t as if she minded helping Kate. Without further discussion, Giuliana climbed the stairs and knocked on Kate’s door.

A muffled sound came from inside, probably an “enter,” so Giuliana opened the door. Her gaze swept over the four-poster bed with its red velvet canopy and drapes, which made it look like a tent.

Kate sat at her dressing table, in front of the oval mirror with its golden frame. She was wearing only a sleeveless chemise, a pair of drawers, and black silk stockings. Her honey-blonde hair hung down her back.

Frozen, Giuliana paused in the doorway, her hand still clutching the doorknob.
What did you expect?
Of course Kate had to undress before she could put on her evening gown. But Giuliana couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kate’s slender back, her sleek arms, and the waves of hair cascading past her shoulders.

What was so special about that? She’d seen half-dressed women before. On washday, the women in the boardinghouse sometimes helped each other, and they often took off their dresses so they could give them a good scrubbing too, doing the laundry in the backyard in just their drawers and chemises.

Admittedly, none of her neighbors were as beautiful as Kate.

Kate’s gaze met hers in the mirror.

Flushing a bright pink, equally visible in the looking glass, Giuliana hastily entered and closed the door behind her.

Kate turned. “Did my mother order you upstairs to help me get dressed?”

Giuliana nodded and tried to find an inconspicuous point to direct her gaze. Finally, she decided that the crown of Kate’s head should be safe enough.

“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I didn’t want her to hold you up. I know it’s getting time for you to leave.”

“It is all right. I do not mind,” Giuliana said and found that she meant it. “I am not sure how much I can help. I never wear one of these.” She pointed to the whalebone corset that hung over the back of a chair.

“Lucky you,” Kate mumbled. “They’re horribly uncomfortable.”

Giuliana stepped closer and took the corset off the chair. “But it is worth it, yes? To look pretty for your young man?”

When she turned, Kate gave her a dark gaze. “Let’s get it over with.”

The assortment of hooks and laces in her hands confused Giuliana. She looked from the corset to Kate. “Eh, how do we…?”

Kate waved at her to hand over the article of clothing and wrapped it around her torso. “Can you hold it in place while I hook it up?”

Giuliana stepped closer and held the corset against Kate’s back while Kate closed the hooks on the front. The warmth of Kate’s skin filtered through the material, making Giuliana’s body temperature rise along with it. The subtle scent of lilacs teased her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply. Was that some kind of perfume that Kate had put on to entice her gentleman friend?

“Giuliana?” The way Kate called her name made it obvious that she’d tried to get her attention several times already.

“Eh, what did you say?”

“I said you can lace up the back now.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry.” Giuliana breathed through her mouth so the fresh scent could no longer distract her as she sorted the corset’s strings and then pulled them tight. “Like this?”

Kate grunted. “Tighter.”

“Are you sure? I do not wish to hurt you.”

“It has to be tight. Otherwise, what’s the point of wearing a corset?”

Giuliana pulled the laces tighter.
Caspita,
that couldn’t be comfortable. No wonder the wealthy ladies didn’t get any work done. Giuliana doubted she’d be able to breathe, much less scrub a carpet, clean a fireplace, or dust a bookcase in such a thing.

Finally, they were done, and Kate put on a corset cover and stepped into two petticoats. “Would you bring me the dress?”

Giuliana looked around.

Spread out on the bed was the most elegant evening gown she had ever seen. It was black, but some sort of silver elements were woven into the material, sparkling like stars against the night sky. Careful not to trip and damage the expensive dress, Giuliana carried it over to Kate, who slipped it over her head.

The material settled around Kate’s body as if it had been tailor-made just for her—and it probably had been. The dress was tight in the waist, emphasizing the hourglass figure the corset had created. It flared out at the bottom and ended in a short train. The bodice was cut lower than any Giuliana had ever seen, but it was still decent enough to reveal just a modest bit of cleavage.