Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

OCTOBER 2019

Saturday

It was way past midnight, and Callie was still awake in her hotel room, sitting on the rug with her back against the bed, thinking about that kiss in the courtyard a few hours ago. It had felt so honest, so genuine. Like Oliver was. He'd listened to her when she told him why she was in town, and he'd introduced her to his family because he thought they could help. And in one short evening, he'd taught her so much about life and family, and getting along in the world. And liking herself. She felt as though she'd been holding her breath for so long, waiting to hear that she was the failure she always thought she was. But she didn't need to hold her breath any longer. She wasn't a failure. She didn't need to punish herself further. Oliver was smart and thoughtful. And he was able to see the good person she was, despite the mistakes she'd made.

Of course, there was no telling where things with Oliver could go. It was just a few days since they'd met, just one kiss they'd shared. But now she felt a kind of safety. The safety that came with knowing she didn't have to try so hard or worry so much. She could just be.

She looked over, then reached to the table and picked up the note that Emilia had written to her grandmother, where she'd left it when she came back to the room, after their romantic walk along the cobblestone street. She looked at Emilia's writing and then held the note to her chest, remembering the sound of Oliver's voice as he'd read the words in English. It seemed unbelievable that her grandmother had received this card from Emilia, had held it in her hands back in 1943, when she would have been so young, a girl really, twenty-one. Callie knew so little about her grandparents. Only that they'd met in Italy, escaped the Nazis, and married in New York. And that they loved each other so much. Although maybe that was the most important thing she needed to know. She remembered how Nonna had spent every day alongside Nonno in his hospital room while he lingered after his stroke. How her cancer progressed so quickly and she'd died just months after him. Pam and the neighbors had said she couldn't live without him. That she wanted to be with him.

They were together for fifty-five years. They'd made a life for themselves. They'd chosen each other, and everything else was the outcome of that choice, that promise, that belief that things could be better. She was the outcome of all that—she and her parents, and Pam. And Chloe. That little girl that Callie now saw had her great-grandmother's light eyes and her great-grandfather's long lashes. She was the next hope of this family, the unknown little person so full of promise. Who knew what she would create, build, do or become?

Callie thought now of that day her grandfather died. She remembered that the call from the nurse at the hospital had come while Nonna was driving home from grocery shopping to change her clothes and get some sleep before returning to Nonno. Pam had taken the message. She remembered sitting across the kitchen table from Pam as they waited for their grandmother to come home. Pam was twenty-two, a grown-up by all accounts; Callie knew this was a huge responsibility on Pam's shoulders. How do you break the news to your grandmother that the love of her life has just died?

Nonna came in and saw immediately from their faces that something was very, very wrong. "Is it Nonno?" she said, putting the grocery bags on the table.

Pam nodded. "The hospital just called. I'm so sorry," she'd said, her voice trembling but her body still. Callie knew she was trying so hard to be an adult, to take charge of the situation, knowing her grandmother's heart would be broken. But it had to be so hard, being the one to say this horrible news out loud.

Nonna came over, her arms open, and Pam ran into them. Nonna hugged her, and then motioned for Callie to join them. Callie got up and pressed her face against Nonna's soft dress. Pam was sobbing now, and Nonna was kissing her head.

"I hate that I had to tell you that," Pam said. "I hated that you were coming home from shopping and I was the one to make you sad. I didn't even tell you to sit down or prepare you. I just blurted it out. You were still holding the groceries."

"Oh, my darling Pam," Nonna said. "You did it perfectly."

"No, I didn't. I just blurted it out. I didn't even tell you to sit down or anything."

"Sweetheart, it wasn't that much of a surprise," Nonna said. "He was very sick. I knew it was coming. I'm sorry you had to take the call."

"I didn't care about taking the call," Pam said. "I only wish I didn't have to tell you the news."

"I'm glad you were the one to tell me," Nonna said. "It made it easier for me, hearing the news from someone I love so much."

Callie thought now of that conversation. She imagined that Nonna was telling the truth. It did make it easier to learn bad news from someone you loved. Someone who cared about you, someone who cared how you felt. She thought now of how she had come to town, mad at her sister, embarrassed about her love life, determined to drag information out of Emilia at any cost. She'd been so strong, so selfish, so self-protective. And yet, here she'd met Oliver, who showed her there was a better way to move forward. And when he'd kissed her, he'd made her feel he was totally open, with no agenda, just affection. She wanted to be someone like that, too, someone who gave affection and care.

And Emilia was certainly deserving of that.

What happened between her grandmother and Pam made all the sense in the world. And now, she wanted to be the person to do it perfectly, as Pam had. To deliver the information that Emilia needed to know. Oliver had convinced her that she needed to forgive herself. And now she realized that maybe Emilia needed to do the same thing.

It was funny, she thought. She'd come here determined to get information from Emilia. But now she knew it was Emilia who needed the full story.

The next morning she got up, put on a pair of pants and a sweater, packed her suitcase, and went downstairs, the jewelry box in her hands. Another beautiful breakfast was on the table, breads and pastries, cheese and meats and fruit. All for Callie, as the other guests had left. Callie supposed that Emilia would bring these leftovers to the church as well.

She picked up a plate and put some fruit and cheese on it, along with one of Emilia's delicious cornetti . Just then Renata walked into the room. "Cappuccino, Signorina?" she asked.

" Si, grazie ," Callie said. "And also, Renata, can you tell Emilia I'd like to speak with her? Per favore ?"

She finished putting food on her plate, and Renata returned with coffee. A moment later, Emilia walked into the dining room from the kitchen, wearing a simple, straight skirt and blouse, her gray hair tied in a knot.

"You asked to see me?"

Callie nodded. "I have something to tell you."

Emilia paused, expressionless.

"I know you're mad at your sisters," Callie said. "And yesterday I was with Oliver from the coffee bar and his family. And I found out more about why. And I know you're convinced they abandoned you. But Emilia…you understand they didn't make it off the island, don't you? You know the Nazi soldiers arrived there and killed everyone.

"I know it's easier sometimes to be mad at a sister than to admit how much you love her," she continued. "And how guilty you feel for what happened to them, when bad things happen. I've felt the same way. But Emilia, you don't have to feel bad that you survived. You don't have to feel guilty that they were stuck on the island and you weren't. You didn't do anything wrong. And neither did they. And whatever happened to them—you have to know they'd be glad that you lived. Even if they didn't."

Emilia pulled out a chair from the table and sat down, leaning heavily with her arm on the table. "This is what you wanted to tell me? You don't know my story. You don't know about my sisters. Or about Corinna, the other one, my dear friend. You don't know that she left, too, when I asked her not to. You don't know that she fled and died in the woods. She should have stayed?—"

"No, Emilia, no," Callie said. "She didn't die in the woods."

"She never made it to Switzerland. This I know?—"

"Because they went to America instead. They lived good lives?—"

"And how do you know this?"

"I know this because…Corinna and Tomas are my grandparents," she said. "They married when they got to New York. See?" She pulled out the wedding photo from the jewelry box. "This is them on their wedding day."

Emilia took the photo in her hands. "Corinna," she murmured. Then she looked up. "Your grandparents?"

"They made it safely to America," she said. "And they had a son who married my mother. And then came my sister and me. And now…now there's a little baby in the world. My niece, Chloe."

"They lived?" Emilia asked. "They had a son?"

Callie nodded.

"But why did they never come back?" she said. "Why did they never return? As they promised they would? They said they'd come back for me. Your grandmother said she'd return. She promised. This was wrong. This was cruel."

"And this is why you're so angry at her?" Callie said.

"Of course. Of course it is!" Emilia raised her voice, and her cheeks grew red.

"But there's a reason," Callie said. "And I think I just figured out why. She told us when we were kids, my sister and me, that she made a terrible mistake. And she would mention your name. You. And she said, so often she said, that she couldn't go back, because the town where you lived was destroyed. She must have known the Nazis came and killed all the people and leveled the town.

"That's why she never came back," Callie said. "She thought you had been killed with the others. I think that was the mistake—that she left you and never saw you again."

Emilia shook her head. "They thought I was dead?"

"Yes. There was no way she could know differently."

Emilia paused, then let out a sad chuckle. "They thought I was dead. And I thought they were dead. I was mad at them for leaving me and getting themselves killed. I thought they could have escaped with me if they'd stayed."

"I'm sorry you never saw them again," Callie said. She reached into the box again and pulled out the menu card. "But this was among the things they left behind."

Emilia took the card and looked over the menu, then turned it over and read the note she'd written to Corinna.

"It's my handwriting," Emilia said. "I wrote this. Oh, my Corinna. How I loved her. She saved my life. She and her mother. They took me in when I had no one. They fed me."

"She loved you, too," Callie said. "She never forgot you."

Emilia blinked, and Callie waited. It was a sight she'd never have thought she'd see. Emilia crying. But then Emilia rubbed her eyes and stood, apparently never one to show emotion for long. Although when she spoke, Callie knew she was expressing love as best she knew how.

"You must be very hungry, you haven't touched your breakfast yet," Emilia said. "Come. Let's eat."

And so Callie had breakfast with Emilia in Caccipulia. It was a long breakfast, more than two hours. And as they ate, they talked. Emilia told her about her father, the Jewish tailor, and her mother, the Italian heiress, who had, against all odds, fallen in love and married. She told her about how her mother had died giving birth to a fourth sister who'd also died, and how her father's broken heart had never mended.

And then she told her what ultimately happened during that rainy October of 1943. How Tomas had come to town after working for the Resistance, and how she'd discovered that Corinna and Tomas were in love, and how the sight of Corinna and Tomas late at night together, planning their future, was what gave her strength and hope during those frightening days. She told her all about the codes, how she'd written the codes on the menu cards, and how that was the way Callie's grandparents were able to escape.

"So you saved their lives," Callie said. "My grandmother told me that once, that you saved them. One day when we were on vacation in California and she was crying. They survived because of you.

"Which means I'm here because of you," Callie said. "My whole family. We owe our lives to you."

"I saved them as your grandmother and her mother saved me," Emilia said. "That, I suppose, is how love wins."

She went on to explain that the night after Corinna and Tomas left, she left Caccipulia too. As the daughter of a Jewish father, she knew she would be taken away by the Nazis as soon as they arrived. And that she'd be putting Corinna's mother in danger. She didn't think her hiding place in the attic would work for long. She described how she'd left town in the middle of the night and headed for the woods, and from there she'd made her way to Switzerland. Where she thought she'd find Corinna and Tomas, but never did.

And she explained that Philippa—Callie's great-grandmother—was not killed when the Nazis stormed Caccipulia. No, Emilia had heard later that Philippa died of a heart attack just hours before the Nazis arrived. So she never had to see her beautiful town destroyed or her friends killed. She died believing that her daughter and her daughter's love were safe and on their way to a better life.

"It was a blessing, the way she died," Emilia said.

And then it was Callie's turn. Callie told her all about Pam and Joe. She explained that she was the younger sister, and she apologized for lying. She said that like Emilia, she had often been annoyed or mad at her older sister. She hadn't always liked her, in fact. But she'd always loved her and would miss her for the rest of her life. "Pam always used to say that sisters are the closest relative there is," she'd said. "And while I didn't always believe it, now I think it's true."

And she explained her move to Philadelphia, and described the conversation she'd had with Oliver last night that had proved so meaningful. And how much he meant to her, even though they'd only met a few days ago. How she hoped they could stay in touch. She even mentioned the kiss, which made Emilia smile.

"So when are you leaving?" Emilia asked.

"I'm scheduled to fly back tomorrow," Callie said.

"And what will you do today?"

"Walk around town. I'm meeting Oliver for dinner when he finishes work at the coffee bar."

Emilia looked at her watch. "Dinner is a long way off," she said. "Come into the kitchen. I'll make a little snack for you to take on your walk."

Callie smiled and followed Emilia into the kitchen. There was no better way for the two of them to end their conversation, she thought. No better way than with food.