Piazza Bella - Aperitivo XII
Sisters United
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“Oh dear god, Bella, what shall we do?”
“What do you mean, my dear sister?”
“This is massive for both of us.”
“Yes, but it’s also brilliant. At least, it is for me. I have a family now.”
“For me too, dear sister. I’m just a little rocked sideways is all, sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Carla.”
Once my emotional outburst had calmed, Bella dragged me back upstairs into my apartment from the cold stone slabs of the piazza. She uncorked a second bottle of wine, this time an expensive Chianti she raided from the Trattoria.
“That didn’t come from the complimentary shelf.”
“We’re celebrating.”
She poured two glasses while we babbled incoherently, sounding like water running haphazardly across stones in a brook.
First, I blathered uncontrollably, then it was Bella’s turn, and finally, we talked over each other. While pacing the room, frequently crossing paths and slugging back too much wine, we gesticulated wildly with flailing arms as American-Italian-Irish tend to.
We settled down after more hugs, tears, cheers, and copious wine. My head spun amid surging emotions, like a tsunami tossed around my life’s fragile dinghy. In the end, we became too sleepy and couldn’t continue moving our lips either to form words or drink.
Bella dragged out some old throw blankets from a cupboard I hadn’t explored, and we snuggled close together on the sofa, slightly drunk, somewhat confused, but very happy.
“I can’t process it, Bella. The sheer incalculable odds of us meeting, yet here we are.”
“Yes, Carla. Here we are, and brought together by our dad.”
“Wow. I hadn’t even considered that. Dad was drawn to Venice, and I think it must have been your mom and the Trattoria.”
What does that mean?
“I knew there was something special between us, Carla. I’m glad I didn’t leave my Luca and hop into bed with you.”
“That is funny, babe.”
She stared at me in absolute seriousness, and my heart stopped, thinking about all the things that might have happened.
“I was tempted to seek comfort some days, Carla.”
I processed that circumstance momentarily, sipping more wine from my glass set on the floor, glancing occasionally at her while weighing up the idea. Incest, arrest, and shameful prosecution kept recurring no matter which perspective I viewed the prospect from.
“Can I say eww without offending you?”
“It would have been the best night of your life, scrawny bitch!”
“Aren’t elder sisters supposed to be kinder to their younger siblings?”
“You’re sassy too, Carla, but I love that about you.”
Her occasional giggling pockmarked another lengthy silence. I stretched my arms, yawned until my jaw almost broke, and turned around, becoming Bella’s little spoon. I just about clung to the narrow sofa’s forward edge, but somehow, I knew she wouldn’t let me fall.
As I dropped in and out of a hazy slumber, my emotions churned on the tremendous but scary revelation of our family connection. Mom would take this well once she scraped herself off the floor.
Does she already know?
“We always did have a connection, Bella. From the first moment we met, right?”
“Oh yeah. I felt it, too. Luca said the same thing about you, but that was when I believed he’d betrayed me, so I dismissed his opinion.”
“You have a nice husband, Bella.”
“Yeah, he is nice and a great chef, too.”
“Will you tell him about us?”
“What would you like me to do? You have a bigger problem with processing all of this. I never knew our dad.”
“Fuck! That sounds a bit weird. Our dad.”
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Do you mind me calling him our dad?”
“Oh god, Bella, of course not. Jack Keady would have loved you as much as I do. I’m assuming he didn’t know about you, by the way?”
I felt slightly alarmed and turned to face my sister. Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head, so I knew I’d struck a raw nerve. Bella seemed melancholy, and I guessed there was an underlying heartache.
“He never knew Mama was pregnant or anything about me. She didn’t want to hold him back because they were both very young. I knew my dad was an American and a great chef, but after he left, Jack never returned, and Mama didn’t marry.”
“Why did she never marry?”
“She always said it was just her, me, and grandma like the three musketeers. In later years, Mama told me the truth. She loved Jack with all her heart and couldn’t be with anyone else afterward.”
I felt the sadness of missing a childhood with a sister and the joy of having one now. Jack Keady would have flown the whole family to Venice tonight had he known about Bella. Part of me speculated about my existence had Mama been less inclined to relinquish her one true love.
“I can tell you all about our dad over the next few days, dearest sister.”
“I’d like that very much.”
I nodded off in her arms but woke suddenly when I fell off the sofa. Bella woke too and traipsed lazily downstairs to check on Luca. I tidied our mess, drank water to stave off dehydration, and brushed the furry tannin of a great red wine off my teeth and tongue.
When Bella returned, I plied her with water and offered a spare, brand-new toothbrush.
“I left Luca a note telling him I am here with you and that he should not worry.”
“I have something for you, Bella. It’s not much, but I have three of Dad’s T-shirts with me. You can keep this one, I’ll keep one, and we can share the third.”
“Can I sleep in it now?”
“I always do. It keeps my dad close to me; now, he’ll be beside you too.”
Bella was excited, ripping off an ill-fitting onesie in no time to replace it with one of Jack Keady’s old work t-shirts. As we slipped into bed together and cuddled, I felt certain Dad would be proud if he could see us.
I rolled over in the bed to show Bella my phone screen.
“I’ve been comparing our photos, and we really do look alike.”
“I thought that too. I am so happy, Carla. Do you know why?”
“Tell me, big sister.”
“You are my only living relative. I share my DNA with nobody except you. Before this discovery, I felt adrift in the world, particularly when Luca and I were having rough times.”
The significance of our familial discovery hadn’t struck me quite the same way as it had Bella.
“You have uncles and aunts now, too. Jack had a brother and two sisters, so a whole clan of Irish-American blood relatives own you. We have many cousins too, and oh, Fingers Finbar, but you’ll want to avoid him.”
“Fingers Finbar?”
“He’s our drug-soaked pervert cousin. The point is, except for Fingers, you have roots and more than twenty other people who share your DNA.”
“Do you see why I feel so happy?”
“I feel happy too, Bella.”
“You’re shocked about all of this, though, I’m sure?”
“Yes, bu-.”
“But?”
“If I could choose a sister from anyone in the world, it would be you.”
“Not even Sam first?”
I stared at her momentarily, wondering if Bella could join the dots. When she didn’t, I frowned.
“Umm… eww.”
“Ahh, yes, of course. I’ve heard about Percy Jackson.”
“Who told you?”
“Sam mentioned it. We have coffee together sometimes, and I’ve grown to like her. She told me about her husband coming here to discuss the children and a possible move. We talk about life and love; naturally, you came up.”
“She’s going to be pumped when we tell her we’re sisters.”
“So, do you want to announce this to other people?”
“Let me speak to my mom tomorrow because she must hear this news first. Then you can announce it to whoever you like, and I will, too.”
“Thank you, Carla. What do you think your mom will say?”
“She’ll be on the next flight with a few others. Mom will want to meet you as soon as possible.”
“Won’t she be mad?”
“Not a chance. She and Mama are two peas in a pod, similar in every sense. They must be, after all, both loved the same man and had daughters with him.”
We fell asleep around 3 am, which wouldn’t be a problem for me still being off shift the next day and planning a date with Liam. I felt more positive about him because his straightforward, honest nature impressed me.
It’s time to let someone in.
I woke up first and carefully clambered over my big sister so as not to wake her. The sun poured through a window that looked out onto the piazza, and I felt happy, sitting in the kitchen drinking a glass of tepid water and contemplating the pace and vibrance of my life.
My happiness was off the charts, but Luca and Angelo still worried me. I wasn’t sure how to tackle Liam amid early signs of reopening my soul for romantic approaches. My job was fantastic, and I’d already selected a stone slab in the piazza under which my ashes could be interred.
I heard Bella wake noisily, stretching out like a bear. She must have rolled onto the floor, then scraped herself up because I heard feet shuffling around.
When she emerged, I saw myself. She struggled across the apartment floor with straggly hair, smacking dry lips, desperately hunting for coffee and a glass of water.
She sat down on the stool beside me, yawning, helping herself to my water.
“You’ve hibernated, Bella.”
“I need to sleep all over again, but this time without one and a half bottles of wine inside me.”
“It was a couple of tablespoons short of two bottles, babe.”
“A bottle and three-quarters?”
“Yes, if it makes you feel less guilty.”
“How do you feel this morning, Carla?”
“I’ve never shared anything with a sibling. Now, my bed and a glass of water. I feel thrilled.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll help you open up at the cafe.”
“Do you mind?”
“It’s more of a pleasure than a chore. I look forward to coffee and eggs with my fellow Venetians every morning.”
“Extra special this morning because Sam and Margarita have done the deed now for sure.”
“They won’t tell us anything, Bella.”
“Oh. Trust me, I’ll squeeze every sordid detail out of those two.”
Bathed in the warm rays of a rising sun, we drifted off to some happy place, smiling inanely while gently flexing almost comatose facial muscles. Bella reached out a couple of times, touching me as if checking I was real.
I recalled my dreams from the night.
“I dreamed we played together as kids.”
“Me too, Carla. You were always getting into trouble, and I rescued you frequently. You were very naughty.”
“It’s true. I was in trouble more than out of it as a kid. You did rescue me in this life, though.”
“How so?”
“My life in New York was disjointed and crowded with hostility, much of which was self-inflicted. It’s a great city with fantastic kitchens and talented chefs, but I didn’t fit anywhere. Dad often told me I’d missed a trick by not coming here years ago.”
“Dad was right. You’re a perfect fit here. It’s almost like you were a Venetian. Many of the locals and regular customers comment.”
“He was right about many things. Your loss was my gain, sister, because, had Jack Keady not left Venice, I would never have been born.”
She placed her forehead gently onto mine, smiling but with tears in her eyes again. There were so many consequences of our sisterhood not apparent right away that each time something new occurred, it felt like an emotional roller coaster thinking it through.
“Then I sacrificed very little to have such a wonderful sister.”
Bella dressed downstairs while I slipped on my running pants and a sweatshirt. I wanted to do something significant for her, so I had a surprise ready when she answered my knock on her apartment door.
“I have Dad’s old journal. It covers the last few years he worked in New York, explaining his life and the food he loved. You can borrow it for as long as needed.”
“Oh god, Carla. I do-.”
She started crying, so I hugged her. Her sobs were hearty, between happiness and knowing what might have been. It would be like this for a while until we settled everything between Jack Keady and us.
“Luca might hear you crying, babe.”
She stepped back and dried her eyes. I noticed a couple more packets of tissues in her apron pocket for later.
“He’s already gone to the fish market. My husband claims he’s getting stronger, but I’m worried for him so much.”
She examined Jack’s journal, carefully turning it over in her hands as though it were a treasure recovered from a newly opened tomb in Egypt’s Valley of The King's. The curled-up edges caused by my frequent reading and a few spots where the paper had swollen from my tears didn’t bother her.
“My dad’s?”
“Yes.”
“Oh god, thank you, Carla.”
“My mom has more of Dad’s clothes stashed away in a storage unit in the garage. She never offloaded anything Jack Keady owned, so I’ll ask her to bring some things. Old photo albums, too.”
Bella looked doubtful for a moment.
“Do you believe she’ll come here?”
“Odin himself wouldn’t stop my mother from boarding an aircraft in the next forty-eight hours. Come on, we’d better leave, or the cafe will open late.”
We ran across the piazza together, hand in hand, laughing but stopping dead when both of us saw the cafe was already perfectly set out and ready for business.
“Margarita must have helped her.”
I sat outside the cafe at our usual table, in my favorite seat, while Bella went inside to see the others. The sun was warming nicely, and there was no breeze. Aside from some warbling, relaxing birdsong, our piazza was silent, and I enjoyed its calming effect.
When my eyes closed through lack of sleep, I drifted to a beautiful place where everyone who had ever loved me lingered somewhere in the piazza, gathered on benches, or sat on chairs outside the Trattoria and cafe.
Liam was there too, smiling, looking hopeful and strong. He reached out a hand, welcoming me onto a warm beach that suddenly appeared at the far end of our piazza. Without questioning the strange transformation, I accepted his invitation, feeling a warmth in my heart.
“Hello, Liam. This is a strange date. I’m starting to like you.”
“That’s nice to hear. May I take madam’s order, please?”
I bolted out of a dream world and back into reality. When I stared upward, he was there, and I was shamed. My heart bolted around the corner of our piazza, leaving my breathing deferred until it slammed back in, jolting my body.
I gasped like a patient resuscitated.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing here, Liam?”
“I woke up early, had a nice run, and then showered. When I asked the concierge where to buy the best coffee in Venice, they directed me here. My compatriot, your friend, and all-around convincing tough nut press-ganged me into helping her, inferring that it might buy me some credit with you.”
He pointed towards the window where Bella and Sam sat enjoying their coffee, grinning and waving at us. I felt a pang of jealousy not being able to share their conversation.
I looked at Liam, who was like a puppy running around my legs, and realized I’d never had a boyfriend willing to chase me so affectionately.
I must give this a chance, paying back his hard work.
“I’ll have a cappuccino, please, my fine man, and with the usual eggs. You’d better ask your boss if fraternization is allowed.”
We talked for half an hour, and Liam was an absolute charm, but thoughts of family preoccupied me. I could have called Mom last night, but I felt too emotional for that conversation so soon.
I stabbed my eggs, carving out a glossy white pillow on a corner of toast. He’d asked for the same thing as me, smiling when he first bit in.
“The bread is yours?”
“My sisters.”
“Your sister?”
“Yeah, it’s her recipe, I meant.”
Fuck, that was close.
I wanted to tell everyone about me and Bella, but my closeness to Mom was such that I felt she ought to know first. That caused me to bottle up emotions, something I was never very good at. Seeing how my potential boyfriend handled me amid stormy seas of feelings and unrest would be interesting.
“What time is your flight back to Florence?”
“Good god, Carla, was service so bad? Do you want to be rid of me so desperately?”
I chuckled. He was attempting to keep on the right side of me. It was cute, but I knew he’d run out of steam, and then we’d find out if our compatibility survived.
“Oh no. Not at all. I’m just thinking through a plan for our day.”
“Okay, but you’ll need to shower; I’m not going anywhere with you smelling like you swam in one of the canals around here.”
“Do I smell?”
I sniffed under my armpits, terrified of a possible odor.
“Only of lotus flowers.”
“Asshole!”
“Please bear with me a little today if I act oddly.”
“More so than usual, Carla?”
“Yes, Liam, much more so.”
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Loving the interplay between your characters Kate. I’ve said it before, but this series is an absolute gem.