Chapter Eleven
Eleven
Nonna looked at my grandfather as if asking for permission, but his gaze was shuttered and he didn’t respond. It was Aunt Philomena who spoke first. “I want to say how hard it’s been for all of us. To know your precious mother is gone, and we never got a chance to see her or meet you. It is a blessing that Catena reached out and found you.”
I bit my lip and nodded, trying not to cry. God, this was a lot. But I burned for the answers I needed to make sense of things. “Me, too. I don’t understand why Mom never mentioned any of you. All I know is what she told me. Mom said she lost her parents very young and that she was an only child. She met my father when he visited New York from England and she was working in a pizza shop. He came to order a slice, fell in love with her instantly, and they were married a few months later in a whirlwind romance. She got pregnant on the honeymoon and had me. They tried to have more children, but she couldn’t get pregnant again, and eventually they stopped trying. That’s all I know.”
My grandmother gave a sharp cry of pain. Philomena rushed over to console her, but my gaze was riveted on my grandfather. He sat silent and still, his face carved from rock. I shivered with dread. I only hoped he told the truth. No matter how bad it was, I needed to know so I could move on and make my own peace with the past.
“Please tell me about my mother,” I pleaded. “Please tell me what happened.”
Catena inched over on the sofa and clasped my hand. “Mamma? Nonna? It is time we know everything. You owe Aurora the truth.”
Finally, my grandmother raised her head high, took a breath, and met my gaze. Grief ravaged her face, but her voice was strong when she began to speak.
“Your mother was our oldest child. She was very special to us. She was a good girl, but like Philomena mentioned, she had a rebellious streak. As she grew up, Sera was always testing us. She was strong-willed and we had many battles.”
I couldn’t help interrupting, greedy for all the information. “What type of battles? What did she do that was wrong?”
My grandmother sighed. “Maybe you do not understand, coming from America? We have certain ways here—the old ways. It is very important for children to listen and respect their elders here. To obey the rules. Your mamma had a bright light inside her that attracted others. Many boys flocked to talk to and date her, but we are very strict.”
“So she snuck out to meet boys?” I asked.
“ Sì ,” Nonna said. “We forbade her to see anyone we had not met and approved of. She began fighting with us a lot. Not wanting to go to church. Disappearing from her chores or staying out at dinner. We were very worried, so we gave more rules to protect her.”
Philomena cut in. “Your mom was loved by many, cara . She was three years older than me, and I would do anything she asked. She was the most popular at school and had many friends. She began talking about leaving home to travel. She said she wanted adventure.”
Agosto shook his head with a sad smile. “I remember when Sera would take me out for the day. She would make up stories as we explored the vineyards, about far-off worlds where children were kings and queens and fought dragons. We would climb trees and sit in the fields for hours until sunset. She made every moment magic.”
I caught my breath in wonderment, remembering my mother’s stories when I was a child. How she seemed to make everything bigger and better when I was around her. My throat tightened. “Did she want to go to school?”
“She wanted to go to America,” Philomena said. “I didn’t understand why. I thought she had everything here. Many boys wanted to marry her.”
“We gave Sera many choices,” Nonna added. “The pizzeria could be hers. Or she could work and study in Sciacca, or with the olive oil company. I even told her she could study cooking and open a fancy pasticceria . We wanted her to be happy.”
I imagined Mom as a free spirit, feeling trapped in her tiny town and aching to burst out. Wasn’t that how I’d felt myself? That there was so much more beyond my mom and dad’s house, waiting for me? Had I gotten my wanderlust and ambition from her, yet never recognized it?
“When did she meet my dad?” I asked hesitantly.
Nonna pulled out a hanky and dabbed her eyes, then crumpled it in her hand. “He came into the pizzeria. Sera was working that day.”
I sucked in my breath. It was the same story she’d told me, yet she’d changed the location.
Nonna continued. “Your father was visiting from England for a few days. He’d served in the war overseas and was staying in Lucca before he went back home. He felt the same way about Sera, and the next day, he showed up at the house. He asked if he could take her out.”
“What did you say?”
I knew already, though. I sensed the story taking shape, a modern Romeo and Juliet without Romeo’s family dynamics.
Aunt Philomena gave a sound of distress. “I knew something bad was going to happen,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her trembling lips. “She was in love with him. Kept saying he was her anima gemella .”
Catena and Teresa both gasped. “Twin soul,” Catena said in an awed tone. “How romantic.”
“To a young child, it is romance. To us, it is tragedia .”
I stared at my grandmother, her words echoing uncomfortably in the air. Still, my grandfather had not spoken. He studied the floor, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.
Uncle Agosto scratched his head. “I don’t remember much of that time. Just that Sera was so angry at everyone. I had never seen her like that before.”
“We forbade her to see your father,” Nonna continued. “Your grandfather explained he was only here for a short time, and it was not appropriate. He was afraid she would get in trouble with him. Sera refused and disobeyed. We were very upset and your grandfather went to tell him that he must leave Sera alone.”
“I bet that did not go well,” I muttered, squeezing my cousin’s hand.
“No. It was very bad.” My grandmother’s fingers trembled around her handkerchief. “We did not know how to control her. We hoped at the end of the week, he would disappear and we would have our Sera back. We spoke about sending her away to study so she could get out of Lucca for a while. But it did not work that way. Your father asked her to go away with him because he did not want to leave her. She told us about it, and we fought. Your grandfather tried to lock her in her room.”
No one spoke for a while. I knew the ending but needed to hear it spoken.
“She didn’t stay, though,” I said softly.
“No. We woke up in the morning and she had left.”
Philomena shook her head. “My memory is very foggy about that night. She cried to me and said she needed to go with him. I begged her to listen to Papà. I said they could write to each other or talk and maybe make plans for later. I finally calmed her down and she seemed okay. I thought she would sleep and we would talk in the morning. We would fix it. But it was too late. She only left a note.”
My chin shot up. “She left a note?” I repeated.
Nonna’s face collapsed into mourning. “ Sì. It said only this: ‘I am sorry but I love him. Forgive me.’?”
A sob caught in my chest, but it was strangled, refusing to be released. My mind spun from the story, which sounded like it belonged in one of Shakespeare’s plays. I thought over my memories of my parents, trying to see if I remembered snippets that would hint at regret about their decision.
But I only remembered the love. The respect. The devotion. Their love story had been real, even if it had many casualties.
“That is so sad,” Teresa said, breaking the silence.
“Can I see the note?” I asked.
Nonna nodded, taking a crumpled yellowed piece of paper out of her pocket and handing it to Uncle Agosto. He brought it over and pressed it into my hand with reverence. The words were in Italian, but I traced my fingertip over the familiar loopy script, my eyes stinging with fierce tears.
“We never heard from her again,” Aunt Philomena said sadly. “We didn’t know your father’s last name or where they settled. Years later, your uncle Agosto and I finally hired a private investigator.”
My grandmother gasped along with my cousins. “You never told me!”
Pain creased the features of my aunt’s face. “I know, Mamma. The investigator found out she was settled in America and had married. We didn’t know about you, Aurora. We decided not to go any further because Serafina didn’t want to be found.” A sob broke from her lips. “I believed we’d all have more time. Time for her to reach out on her own.”
Uncle Agosto shook his head. “We felt it was best not to share this information. There was already so much pain.”
This new revelation hit me hard. If the PI had reached out and made contact, would everything have been different? Or would Mom still have kept her silence?
I pictured my mother running away from her family to marry my father. Did she believe she’d never be able to convince my grandparents to accept him? Did she regret her impulsive actions and think about reaching out later on? Or was she afraid to take the chance, assuming she’d be rejected by her blood and forever damaged?
The questions whirled in my mind, questions I’d never get answered.
The words broke from my soul and launched into the room. “Are you sorry you let her go? Do you—do you have regrets?”
My family regarded me with a deep sadness carved into their features. Tears ran down Nonna’s cheeks. “ Sì. Every day. Every moment.”
My aunts and uncles murmured their agreement. “We should have tried harder,” Aunt Philomena whispered. “She was my sister.”
Suddenly, my grandfather’s voice sliced like a sharp blade through flesh, making me bleed. “Your mother broke the rules of our household. She betrayed her family and made her choice. That is the truth.”
A tense silence descended. Shock held me immobile as I stared at him, not understanding how he could defend his actions. “But she was your daughter,” I whispered. “You loved her. How could you stop looking? How could you let her go?”
I searched his gaze behind those thick glasses, hoping to find a shred of apology or guilt. But there was nothing but a wintery storm in his eyes. His lips firmed together in a stubborn denial of his own part in such a tragedy. I knew then that he’d shed my mother’s memory years ago, and even her death didn’t bring him regret. My grandfather had been the one to decide there’d be no further communication. He’d driven my mother away forever.
I blamed him for everything.
“I don’t understand you,” I said shakily. “She was a wonderful mother and wife. People loved her. You’re the one I feel sorry for, because you didn’t get to have her in your life!”
My grandmother broke into sobs and reached out for my grandfather, but he was already standing up, his posture stiff and straight. Without a word, he disappeared upstairs, the echo of his footsteps sounding like doom to my ears.
Uncle Agosto got up. “I’ll check on him.”
We watched him follow, and my grandmother struggled to speak. “Aurora, my darling girl. It was a confusing time. We woke up and she was gone. We looked for her, but when your grandfather discovered she’d run away with your father, he was heartbroken. This type of thing doesn’t happen in our home. We all made mistakes.”
“He doesn’t seem to think so,” I said bitterly. “My father was a good man. A wonderful father.”
“I have no doubt,” Aunt Philomena said. “Sera would have never chosen him unless he was worthy, and she had a wonderful life. She had you. What a gift you must have been to her! How can any of us possibly regret her having you?”
I swiped at my wet cheeks and leaned into the comforting words. Suddenly, I was surrounded by my cousins, offering support and loving sentiments that soothed the rawness.
“You belong to us now,” Nonna said. “You are family and we will never let you go.”
The words reached deep into my heart, lifted the grief, and allowed it to finally shake through me.
And my family was here to witness it all, without judgment.
So, for the first time since my mother’s death, I let myself fall.
—
After I left my grandparents’, Catena and Teresa drove me back to Sciacca and stayed a few hours to make sure I was all right. All that emotion had taken its toll, so I slept in pretty late. I ate some fruit, still stuffed from the amazing meal I’d experienced, and strolled to the local café to grab coffee. I sipped the brew outside and stared at the Mediterranean Sea. The turquoise water glittered under the sun’s rays and the screech of seagulls and conversations in Italian drifted in the air.
I had a Zoom meeting with Dr. Sariah later and figured I’d do more sightseeing. We hadn’t talked about any further itinerary. Whatever happened, I knew I now had a bond with my cousins, aunts, and grandmother. Maybe I’d come back out next year and make an annual summer trip. Or maybe Catena and Teresa could visit me in New York. I had six more days to spend, so I might as well see as much as I could and spend time with my cousins when their work schedules allowed.
My phone pinged. Jason was FaceTiming me, so I answered. “Hey. How are you?”
His smile was tight-lipped, which was odd. “Busy. Had to get to the gym early—we’re having a big promo and I’m offering my clients a special bonus workout. What are you doing?”
I gave a luxurious sigh. “Sitting on a bench, looking at the Mediterranean, drinking coffee. It’s beautiful here.”
The phone bounced and the background blurred. He was on the move. “Got up late, huh? Sounds relaxing. I’m sure you needed it. Did you see your family?”
I wondered at the curtness in his tone but figured he was distracted. “Yes, yesterday. It was a lot, Jason. There were so many people there, I was overwhelmed. But they were nice and I really bonded with my cousins and my aunt and my grandmother. I didn’t like my grandfather, though. Oh, and they served like eight courses in the afternoon. And I found out about my mom. It’s heartbreaking.”
I kept talking, wanting Jason to know the details about this new chapter in my life. I was halfway through my story when I paused, sensing not only distraction but an odd tension. “Jason, is everything okay? Do you need to call me back?”
He stopped moving and stared at the screen so I could see him up close. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I know this stuff is important—it’s the reason you went to Sicily. But it’s hard for me because I’m at this critical point with the gyms, and I feel like I’m not giving you the quality time you need to really help you right now. I’m frustrated.”
My heart warmed a bit. He seemed genuinely interested in connecting, and I knew it was hard for him when he was so wrapped up in work. I wanted to be understanding for him, too. “I get it. I know you have a lot going on and I’m not mad.”
He nodded. “Good. But I need to be honest about my feelings, too. A healthy relationship doesn’t leave room for lies. Right?”
I hesitated. “Right.”
“Okay. I need to know something. Why didn’t you call my client back?”
“Who?”
He let out an impatient breath. “Jerry. My client. I specifically asked you to call him and you never did. I know you’re in Sicily and sleeping in and seeing all this great stuff, but I promised him you’d call within twenty-four hours. He depended on both of us, Aurora. He was really upset. I almost lost his trust, and he’s been referring me to many of his friends. It could have been a disaster.”
The name suddenly blitzed in my memory. I’d completely forgotten. Guilt slammed through me, along with another emotion I didn’t want to investigate. It would only make my relationship with Jason more strained if I gave it a voice. “I’m so sorry. I meant to reach out, but with the time difference, and the big family get-together, I completely forgot. Can I text or call him now? Explain?”
“No, I took care of it. Told him you lost your phone in Italy. I didn’t like lying, but I had no other choice.”
“Okay. Well, again, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know.” An awkward silence settled. “Do you want to finish your story? Why you didn’t like your grandfather.”
The intimacy I’d thought we had disappeared. I stared at his handsome face while he tried to mask his impatience and felt something crack from the inside. I had no right to feel betrayed, but I wondered again how I ranked in comparison to his work. Was it the distance getting in the way? Would things go back to normal when I returned? Or was this the new dynamic between us?
“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. You have to focus on your event.”
The shadows lightened from his eyes along with his frown. “You’re right. I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to call you out. I’m just stressed and can’t afford to lose Jerry right now. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to step up.”
His words ruffled my nerves. “Sure. Well, good luck.”
“I’ll call you back tonight and let you know how it went. Are you able to get any of your work done in between visits and sightseeing?”
“I’m working today.”
“Good for you! The next few days will go by fast and I bet you’ll be back to normal. You were right to take this trip, Aurora. Bye. Love you.”
“Bye.”
I clicked off. Didn’t he notice I never said I love you back? Did it bother him or was he just trying to be patient?
The memory dragged me back, like a shell flung into a rough wave and pitched into the water.
My mother’s voice rose in my head like a ghost who refused to be denied any longer.
We sat on the back deck, staring at the full moon. Stars blanketed the night sky. We sipped red wine and didn’t speak. Dinner was over, Jason had just left, and we’d already had words. I knew she didn’t like him, but she refused to say anything specific, which was driving me crazy.
“I wish you would just talk to me straight. Dad would have.”
She jerked back and I felt a little sorry. I studied her profile, her olive skin, plump lips, heavy brows, and Roman nose. Sadness cloaked her like a worn blanket. Finally, she took a breath and turned to face me head-on. Her voice hit me like a force.
“Life is an adventure, my darling girl. It is not a long line of tasks to complete, or goals to accomplish. It’s not about winning or losing, success or perfection.”
Uncomfortable with her sudden probing and general assessment of my life, I challenged her back. “I had no idea you knew the secret to life, Mom. Are you going to share it with me?”
She ignored my smart-ass remark and gripped my hand, squeezing too tight. “Yes. It’s about love, and pain, and loss. It is laughter and tears and failure. You’ve kept yourself in a box, but one day, the lines will blur and you’ll be faced with a choice.” My mother’s beautiful dark eyes stared into mine with a fervor that made fear trickle down my spine. I’d never seen her so serious, leaning forward so our faces were inches apart. “And I’m terrified you’ll take the safe route and stay in your lane. You’ll settle down with a nice man who checks all your boxes. If you do, you may not have regrets. You may sleep peacefully at night. But, Aurora, playing it safe will destroy you in the end.”
My mouth fell open. “You want me to make mistakes and get my heart broken by some other man? Jason is a stand-up guy. He’s all the things I’m looking for. You should be happy—you’re not making sense!”
Frustration snapped off her in waves. “Wait for the love of your life, even if it’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done.”
I stared back in disbelief. “Look at you, Mom. Since Dad died, you’ve been a ghost. Why would you want that for me? To give my entire self and then lose him and be like you. Alone and lost and so damn sad.” Tears choked me, but I fought them back, done with this whole conversation. “No, thanks. I like exactly where I am, and if you can’t accept it, I won’t bring him over again.”
“Aurora, don’t go. Let me try and explain.”
“No, it’s okay. Just respect my decision. Maybe not everyone is meant to have some great love like you. Maybe choosing someone to build a life with is enough.”
I left, hearing my name echoing in the air, but I ran fast, certain she was wrong.
My fingers shook from the blast of raw emotion. Everything my mother had said now made a horrible kind of sense. She’d been warning me about Jason, but it was her own story that drove her. Mom sacrificed her entire world for my father and still held no regret. They’d loved each other that much.
Did loving someone like that mean an ultimate sacrifice? Because Jason and I simply did not have that type of relationship. I wasn’t like Mom.
I’d rather be safe.
I pushed away the memory. Jason was a good man and worth fighting for. But I was afraid we were growing further apart and I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d talk to Dr. Sariah, but maybe for now, the best thing to do was focus on myself. I needed time with my new family, time to process the truth about Mom. When I returned home, Jason and I could have a serious talk and see how we could fix things.
I finished my coffee and tore myself away from the amazing scenery. Okay, first, work. I needed to do some things for the podcast, contact clients, and open my manuscript. Then I’d reward myself tonight by doing some exploration.
My phone jumped again and I smiled. “Hi, Catena.”
I heard the clatter of glasses in the background. “I cannot stop thinking about your mom and what happened. Come to the pub tonight. Everyone wants to see you.”
I perked up. It was nice to think of the pub as mine, in a roundabout way. A true Cheers place where everyone would eventually get to know my name. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Oh, my mamma is texting you later. After church tomorrow, she wants to go to the pizzeria and show you around Lucca.”
Surprise hit. I hadn’t been to church in years. “Church? Tomorrow?”
“Yes, we all go every Sunday together. It is important here. You will come, right?”
I remembered my mother begging me to go with her, and my snarky answers. I’d pushed back in my teen years, torturing her by commenting on my doubts and criticizing the Catholic religion. As I got older, I canceled regularly, until I just stopped showing up. Guilt stirred and twisted in my belly. What I’d give to be able to go back and sit with her in the pew on Sunday, watching her fingers nimbly count her rosary beads as she prayed. I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “Sure. I’ll go.”
“You will make everyone so happy! I will see you tonight.”
I walked home, my worries about Jason fading. I liked the idea of having somewhere to go tonight, and people who looked forward to seeing me. I’d forgotten the simple joy of being with people who had nothing to do with work and only wanted your company.
After a quick shower, I settled in to deal with my growing workload. Wincing, I listened to the voice mail from Jason’s client, his voice cold as he explained I didn’t have to call him back and that he’d found another life coach. There were emails from Eliza, and another cancellation from a sponsor. Trying to keep a positive attitude, I responded to emails and put a Band-Aid on several tasks that had to be completed. Within the hour, I was exhausted. I stared at my laptop with a sense of frustration, wondering how I’d been able to keep up such a blistering pace without burning out.
Guilt leaked through me. I owed my clients more than this. They were waiting for me to call and lead them, but the thought of reaching out made me nauseous. Because for the first time in my life, I had no answers. If I couldn’t fix myself, how could I fix them?
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to do what I could in the next few hours. By the time I’d opened the manuscript and begun to write, I found myself journaling about my trip and meeting my family. I kept going, hoping that the story would lead into a teaching lesson for motivation and embracing change, but by the end of the section, I couldn’t use any of it. I stared at the words in frustration.
I had to get out of here.
Checking my watch, I realized I could take a long walk before heading to Bar Sciacca. Maybe I could post some social media shots. People needed to know I hadn’t disappeared completely or my platform would begin to disintegrate. Tension knotted my shoulders as I thought of all the ways I could fail not only myself but the people who relied on me. Meanwhile, I was in Sicily, eating in pubs and strolling in the sunshine. Yes, it was only for a few more days, but if I continued to spiral, I’d lose everything I’d worked hard for.
Maybe Jason was right to be angry.
I grabbed my purse, some water, and my sunglasses and headed out, hoping to find answers or at least inspiration.