Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
B ack at the library, Catherine hunted for her grandmother Gwen.
At first, she discovered her only in photographs taken with the rich intellectual Italian Gionnocaro Fellini’s family. Gwen was situated in the background of Dee’s baby shower, which was written about in the Style section of the paper. In another photo published a few years later, she held baby Stephan at Dee’s next baby shower. She looked secretive and dark and beautiful. But she’d been a woman who’d come from nothing. What was her past? And how had she gotten involved with the Gionnocaro Fellini family?
How had she come to marry another Gionnocaro Fellini?
Catherine decided to backtrack. She took a deep breath.
She left the library for a half hour to grab a cup of coffee and write notes to herself. She felt as though she were chasing multiple ghosts. It was around now that Scarlet called her, then called her again. But Catherine was too immersed in her note-taking to answer. It wasn’t long after that that Scarlet wrote she was headed back to Nantucket. Catherine considered writing her back. But that was when she thought, Go back to the library. Find the announcement for the bakery.
And that was what she did.
According to the archives, her grandfather Gionnocaro married Gwen in early 1945. Despite her grandfather’s supposed “royalty,” there was no photograph of Gwen and Gionnocaro in the papers. Just a brief announcement.
If he was so important, why wasn’t it a bigger deal that he married? Even if he’d lost everything, wasn’t he known?
Why didn’t he want to live with other Italians? Why did he come to the Upper East Side rather than move to Little Italy with everyone else?
Six months after Gionnocaro and Gwen’s wedding, the bakery opened in the Upper East Side. There was a tiny photograph of Gwen and Gionnocaro outside the bakery, plus the description: “Once-royal Italian Gionnocaro Fellini lost it all. But he’s committed to feeding the locals of the Upper East Side until the war ends and the United States enjoys peace once more.”
The photograph was of her grandfather and grandmother. There was no mention of the other Gionnocaro Fellini. Wouldn’t that have been a funny mention? The fact that they had the same name?
But the other Gionnocaro was still semi-royal. The other one was wealthy. The other one didn’t lose it all.
Did they know each other back in Italy? Did they have some kind of rivalry?
Catherine was stumped. She leaned back in her chair and studied the crown molding in the library. She studied the strange hair barrette of the woman across the room from her. She thought and thought and thought until another message came through from Scarlet, saying she was halfway home. On the bus, of all things.
Catherine’s heart stung. Shoot. Shoot.
Catherine hurried outside to call Scarlet. It felt as though she emerged from a dream. Scarlet answered on the third ring. It sounded like someone was laughing nearby. A man.
Wasn’t she out last night? Who was she with? Why didn’t I ask?
Oh, but she’s twenty-four. She can take care of herself.
“Are you all right, honey?” Catherine asked.
“Hi! I’m fine. I just realized I had some stuff to do at home,” Scarlet said.
Catherine’s stomach roiled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I mean, I invited you to come, and then I got so distracted.” She bowed her head with shame.
“Don’t worry about it,” Scarlet ordered. “Really. It was wonderful to be back in the city.”
It felt as though there was a great, shadowy distance between them.
Catherine cursed herself. It feels like the same distance between my mother and me.
“I’ll see you when you get back,” Scarlet said.
“Yes,” Catherine said. “Let me know when you do. Don’t work too hard.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too,” Catherine said. She inhaled sharply. “So much.”
Catherine retreated inside and sat back down in front of the archives. As she had many times in the past, she felt like a captive to the narrative that unfolded via her research. It consumed her.
I beat cancer. I’m still here. I’m still here to chase stories to the bitter end.
This pleased her more than anything.
Based on instinct, Catherine decided to read more about the first Gionnocaro and Dee. What had happened to them after they’d had their children and their beautiful baby showers and their gala events? How had Gionnocaro’s research gone? Had he discovered anything tremendous? Had he changed the course of academia?
It wasn’t long till Catherine had her answer.
It was an obituary.
Catherine’s jaw hung open as she read.
Gionnocaro Fellini (1919 - 1945) was born in Rome, Italy, to Princesss Aurora Bellini and Prince Fernando Fellini. He came to the United States in 1937 to study at New York University and later went on to marry Dee Fellini and have two children, Stephan and Francine. A visitation and memorial service will be held Saturday at one p.m. at St. Matthews Cathedral.
Catherine hadn’t realized she’d gotten to her feet. Again and again, she read the obituary until she got up the nerve to dig deeper. How had Gionnocaro died?
At first, it felt hopeless. The density of history was often difficult to dig through—especially eighty years later. But eventually, the week after the obituary was published, Catherine discovered an article: “Was Foul Play Involved in Italian Royal’s Death?”
Catherine’s heartbeat intensified. She could hardly breathe.
A horrible thought wormed its way through her mind. Was it possible that her grandfather and grandmother had something to do with this? Was it possible they’d killed the first Gionnocaro, stolen his identity, and then started the bakery?
Catherine read the article, which was a brief yet intense interview with the police captain at the time of Gionnocaro’s death.
The officer said, “The deceased was found face-down in his study. His wife and children were in the Hamptons for the weekend. There were no wounds on his body. But with a wealthy man like this, one tends to speculate that foul play was involved. Perhaps he was poisoned.”
When asked if the police captain had any evidence to back this up, the captain said only, “The wife wanted Gionnocaro buried almost immediately after his death. This didn’t allow us to perform any tests or deduce the reason for death. However, it should be noted that a few staff members disappeared immediately after Gionnocaro’s death. I asked Mrs. Fellini if those staff members took anything with them, anything of value. But she was unfortunately too despondent to understand what I was talking about.”
Catherine sucked in her cheeks. Staff members. Could one of those staff members have been Gwen?
Catherine needed some air. She took photographs of the articles and clippings she’d discovered, then packed up her things and headed into the late afternoon. Unbeknownst to her, her feet led her directly to where her grandpa Gionnocaro and grandma Gwen had once lived and worked in the Upper East Side. The bakery had once been the meeting-point for locals, the place where coffee, bread, and sweets were shared and gossip was exchanged. But after her grandfather retired and long after her grandmother was gone, none of the children wanted to take over the bakery. They’d sold it to a dry cleaner. It was still running today.
In fact, standing there in front of the bakery, it was difficult to recall what it had once looked like. It was difficult to peel back the layers and consider that, once upon a time, two people had purchased this plot and opened a bakery.
If my grandfather wasn’t really Gionnocaro, then who was he? Catherine thought now. Her eyes welled with tears. And how does that change the identity of my entire family?