The American Contessa (18 page)

“What’s
going on here?” Carmina appeared in the doorway, her face a study in concern.

“Nothing,”
the Contessa answered calmly.

Luca
pounced on her words, “No,
not
nothing.”
 
He strode over to his
sister.
 
“You know what these are?
 
Letters.
 
Letters from my mother to my father.
 
From what I can see, over thirty of them.
 
And he never knew.”
 
He turned on his Grandmother, “
Did he
?”

The
Contessa licked her lips and solemnly answered, “No.”

Bounding
from the room, Luca shoved past Carmina, hell-bent on getting away from the
suffocating atmosphere of his Grandmothers person.
 

Carmina
was stunned for a moment, then turned in confusion to the woman who stood
passively in the middle of the room, “What’s happened?
 
What did you do?”

“I
did what I thought was best,” was all she could say.

*****

Luca
stared at the letters before him, garnering up the courage to open them and
finally read his mother’s thoughts in her own words.
 
What if the letters told of things he didn’t
want to know?
 
That his mother truly
didn’t love him or want him, and that the rumours and stories he’d believed all
these years were actually truth.

Breathing
deeply, he picked up the first one, noticing the handwriting on the envelope
was shaky and uncertain.
 
With resolve,
he rapidly opened it before he changed his mind.

My love,

For you always will
be my love.
 
Please forgive me.
 
I know that ours would always have been a
marriage with the odds stacked against it.
 
I knew from the beginning that your title dictated that you present an
image of the utmost respectability and nobility.
 
It was with that in mind that I knew the
future for which we’d hoped could never be.

You see, my love, I
did something of which I am truly ashamed.
 
And even as I write this, I find I can hardly bring myself to relieve my
conscience of my shame in words.
 
I only hope
that you can forgive me for what I did.
 
It
happened long before we met, and I’d hoped it would never come to light.

Luca
frowned and read on,

I was eighteen when
it happened.
 
The details I will spare
you.
 
But I was enticed into making a
film that could hardly be called ‘proper’.
 
I was young and foolish and put it behind me with the hope that it would
never encumber my life again.

Unfortunately that
was not to be ...
 

His
mother went on to explain why she left and Luca shook his head in disbelief.

Nonna.

She
had used his mother’s past against her.
 
Convincing her that the Count would never forgive what she had
done.
 
Beating her down with words like
disgrace and dishonour, until she felt she had no choice but to leave him and
his father or sully the good name of Manetti.

No
wonder his Grandmother had taken the letters.
 
In them, she had tried to explain the mistake of her youth and begged
for forgiveness.
 
Clearly hoping that his
father would contact her.
 
Never knowing
he didn’t receive anything she had written.

Luca
picked up another letter dated two years later.
 
It was more of the same.
 
She
missed them both, but the desperation in her words was increasing.
 
His father had not replied to anything she
had written and it was clear that his mother was incredibly unhappy and
depressed.
 

She
mentioned trying to come to Italy at one point, and her visa not being
approved.
 
She posed a possible rationale
for the denial –the Contessa’s government connections, but then back-tracked,
citing paranoia with regard to how much power the Contessa actually possessed.
 

She’d
tried to call and found the phone number had been changed time and time
again.
 
She’d asked friends and
acquaintances to deliver messages when they visited Italy; only to have the Villa
door firmly slammed in their faces.
 
His
Grandmother had blocked her at every turn.
 

The
final letter was almost unreadable.
 
She
shifted from subject to subject, clearly in a drunken or drug induced state,
and flitted from angry and bitter to lonely and depressed from line to line.
 
She’d lost her husband and child, and now
she’d lost all hope.
 
Her grip on reality
was slipping and she was spiralling into a life that ended too soon.

The
tears ran down Luca’s face.
 
He’d spent
so long denying any love for his mother, that the feelings were now
overwhelming.
 
It was like a light had
gone on in his heart and awakened him to every single emotion that
existed.
 
He felt love, remorse, hate,
guilt, sadness and an overabundance of responses he didn’t even know he
possessed.
 

And
in the midst of everything he thought of Gaby.
 
He loved her –and if he didn’t do something about it, he would lose her
forever.

When
the doorbell rang Gaby was there in an instant.
 

“Carmina!”
she cried with joy.

“Oh
Gaby,” her friend answered, smiling in return, “It’s so good to see you.”

They
hugged each other tightly and Gaby quickly ushered Carmina into her home.

“I’m
so glad you came,” Gaby stated with tears in her eyes, “I’ve been thinking
about you a lot the past three months.”

“Me
too,” she replied with a sniff.

After
she got Carmina settled into the spare room, they sat on the couch for a long
overdue chat.

“How
have you been, Carmina?”

“Fine.”

“That’s
good.”
 
Gaby handed her a plate of
biscotti to accompany the coffee she’d made.

Carmina
eyed her with interest.
 
“Why don’t you
ask me what you really want to know?”

Gaby’s
face fell and she frowned, “All right.
 
How is
he
?”

“Why
don’t you come back to Italy with me and find out for yourself?”

She
shook her head adamantly.
 
“Not a good
idea.
 
Last time I saw him, he threatened
to call police on me, then threw me out of the Villa.
 
I’m sure he’d have no problem doing that
again if I ever dared to show my face in Italy.”

“He’s
changed a lot since then,” Carmina replied with a touch of her hand on Gaby’s.

“Is
that so?”

“Yes.
 
But don’t take my word for it.
 
Come for Christmas –see for yourself.”

Gaby
let out a mirthless laugh, “No Carmina.
 
I’m no glutton for punishment.
 
My
adventure is well and truly over.
 
He’s
had three months to contact me.
 
If he
hasn’t done it by now, I doubt that he ever will.”

“But
Gaby, you don’t know what happened after you left.”

“What
do you mean?”

Carmina
went on to explain their Grandmother’s treachery with regard to Luca’s mother
and how she had helped Gaby’s Grandfather steal from her friends.

When
she was finished, Gaby sat back into the couch and let out a long exhale,
“Well, I’ll be,” she sighed.
 
Nonna
certainly turned out to be piece
of work.
 
No wonder Luca was such a mess
emotionally.
 
He didn’t really stand a
chance.
 
 

“So
you see, a lot has happened since you left.
 
Luca was devastated by
Nonna’s
betrayal.
 
He’s been changed by it.”

Gaby
raised her brows, “I can well imagine.”
 
Try as she might she could only imagine the worst.
 
Luca’s anger must have hit the overload
button when he discovered his Grandmother’s lies.
 

“Do
you still love him Gaby?”

She
looked Carmina straight in the eye, “Of course I do.
 
I don’t want to.
 
But I do.”

“Then
why not do something about it?”

Gaby’s
eyes pleaded with her friend, “Can we please talk about something else.
 
I really can’t rehash it all over again
Carmina.
 
I’ve said “if only” and “what
if” to myself so much over the last three months, that I just can’t do it
anymore.”

“Okay,”
she replied in understanding.
 
“But I
have one more question that has been circling in my mind since
Nonna
was found out.”

Gaby
sat back down with a look of surrender, “All right, ask away.
 
But after this, no more.
 
I mean it.”

“Here
goes,” she started, “If your Grandfather sent a letter to
Nonna
telling her where the necklace was, then why did he send
you
to find it?”

Blinking
back at her, Gaby was nonplussed.
 
That’s
right.
 
Why would Grandfather send her to
Italy if he knew the necklace would not be where he’d hid it?
 
Perhaps he had forgotten about the letter he
sent –old age could do that.
 
But
no.
 
Gran-pop was nothing if not
coherent, with all his faculties in place.
 
Why then?

“You
know Carmina, that’s a very good question,” she commented, reaching for the
cordless phone, “Why don’t I ask him?”

*****

Carmina
exited the room to give her some privacy to talk to her Grandfather.
 
The call connected immediately and after some
idle chit-chat Gaby took a deep breath and plowed ahead.
 
When she finally put the question to the man
who’d literally sent her on a wild goose chase, the silence that followed was
almost deafening.
 
“Well?” she prodded,
when no answer was forthcoming.
 
“Why did
you do it?
 
Why did you send me to Italy
to steal something that wasn’t there, and you knew it?”

He
chuckled on the other end of the line, which just made Gaby’s hackles rise
further.
 
“You had fun didn’t you?” he
said as if that explained it all.

“
What?
” she squeaked at him.

“Gaby,
calm down.”

“I
will not calm down.
 
How could you do
this to me?”

“Anyone
could see that your life was, shall we say, dull as dishwater.”

“My
life was not –”

“Don’t
deny it.
 
It was and you know it.”
 
He paused for a moment or two to let his
words penetrate.
 
“I knew you’d never
take a plane to a far off country, spend all your money on a fancy hotel and live
it up without a push or at least a very good reason to.
 
So I gave you a reason.
 
A reason to live a little, get out of your
comfort zone and enjoy yourself.”

And
to break her heart, he might have added. “What about the medical bills?
 
Just how were they going to be taken care of
then?”

“They
were taken care of, weren’t they?” he said off-handedly. “Things have a way of
working out for the best, I’ve always found.”

Gaby
seethed and shook her head in disbelief.
 
The man was incorrigible.
 
The
bills were of no concern to him.
 
She
could only guess that a lifetime of irresponsibility had made him apathetic to
something as mundane as a piece of paper with numbers on it.

“So
this whole scheme was just your way of getting me to take a holiday?” she asked
with a furrowed brow.

“No
Gaby,” he replied softly.
 
“I always knew
you were most like me.
 
That a thirst for
adventure and intrigue was sitting just under your skin.
 
You just didn’t know it.
 
I wanted you to have a dash of fun before I
left this world to see it.
 
I thought I
was doing you a favour.
 
But I didn’t
realise that we also had the same Achilles heel.”

“What’s
that?” she whispered.

“Doomed
to love a Manetti,” he stated simply.
 
“A
foolhardy thing to do –and quite dangerous to the heart as well.
 
I can safely vouch for that.
 
Now don’t deny it.
 
I heard it in your voice when you were there
and I spoke to you.”

“I
wasn’t going to deny it,” Gaby said in honesty, “I do love Luca Manetti.
 
And perhaps I always will.
 
But how I feel doesn’t matter.”

“Why
not?”

“Because
he hates me Gran-pop,” she said, the tears forming in her eyes, “He hates me
just like his Grandmother hated you enough to call the police.”

“But
he
didn’t call the police, did he?
 
He could have, but he didn’t.”

“No.”

“Then
maybe, just maybe there’s … hope.”

“I
wouldn’t bet on it Gran-pop.”

*****

Carmina
returned to Italy in late October.
 
While
hugging at the airport, Gaby promised to think about coming to visit in the
Spring.
 
She hoped that by then her heart
would have mended at least a little.
 
Enough that the prospect of seeing Luca on her visit wouldn’t make her
knees knock and her stomach clench in trepidation.

It
was Friday afternoon.
 
Thanksgiving
weekend was here.
 
A long and lonely
weekend was ahead of her.
 
Frances had
gone to Mexico to escape the cold and Grace was in Barcelona on a business trip
for the Gallery.
 

The
last child had finally left the classroom and Gaby got to work dusting the alphabet
from the large wall of chalkboard.
 
She
read the letters and corresponding words as she removed them one by one.
 
A is
for apple.
 
B is for baby.
 
When she got further along her mind started
to wander,
K is for kiss, L is for Luca
… Gaby shook her head at the direction her thoughts were turning.

“I
wondered what you looked like in a classroom.
 
You must be wonderful with the children.”

She
froze at the words.
 
The accent was
unmistakable.
 
Her feet were rooted to
the spot and refused to turn around.
 
Her
mind was playing tricks.
 
He couldn’t be
here.
 
He just … couldn’t.

“Gaby?”

She
slowly pivoted and took him in.
 
He was a
little thinner than she remembered.
 
Had
he been missing her as much as she had him?
 
Otherwise, he was unchanged.
 
Except for what he was wearing.
 
He wore a t-shirt with Boston Red Sox blazoned across it.
 

“What’s
with the shirt?” she asked, tilting her head towards his chest in disbelief.

“That’s
the first thing you have to say to me?” he quizzed with a grin, moving towards
her.

Gaby
unconsciously took a step back.
 
An
evasive action that he perceptibly noticed.
 
His smile faded.
 
“Oh, wait,” he
said suddenly, taking something out of his back pocket.
 
He unrolled a small American flag, the sort
used at parade gatherings, and waved it at her.

“Is
this some sort of joke?” she asked, totally confused.

“No,”
he replied with a shake of his head.
 
“I
just wanted to show you that … well, I just wanted to show you … I guess it was
a stupid, juvenile idea.”

She
folded her arms across her chest.
 
“Go
on. Tell me.
 
Just what were you trying
to do?”

“I
wanted to show you that I don’t … that I … don’t hate America.”
 
He gave her a small, hopeful smile, “How
could I hate the country that gave me
you
.”

Gaby
stood her ground.
 
He was laying on the
charm thick as molasses, but that didn’t mean she was attracted like some bee
to all that sweetness.
 
She knew all too
well how it felt to get badly stung.
 
“You’re
forgetting; I’m not
yours
.”

Luca
sighed loudly, “You’re right.
 
I made a
mess of it.
 
I should have listened to
what you had to say.
 
All I can say now
is that I’m sorry Gaby.
 
I’m sorry that I
hurt you.”

Nodding
at his admission, Gaby’s face gave nothing away, “Apology accepted.”

When
he made a move towards her again, she continued, “Now if you’ll excuse me.
 
I’m sure you can find your way out.”
 
Turning, she continued to wipe the
chalkboard, even though it was virtually spotless.
 

Luca
looked at the ground.
 
Had Carmina
lied?
 
She’d told him that Gaby admitted
to still being in love with him.
 
Clearly, she must have misunderstood.
 
That, or Gaby was one hell of an actress.

She
could still feel him in the room.
 
The
urge to turn and run into his arms was immense.
 
Immense, but incredibly scary.
 
She’d been badly wounded by him and the thought that he could do it all
over again, if given the chance, was something she hesitated to repeat.