Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

MAY 2019

Friday

It was an hour and a half drive mostly on the highway, although for the last few miles, they traveled through a small, pretty suburb with narrow row houses bordered by flower and vegetable gardens. At Vincenzo's direction, Emilio parked in front of a cheerful yellow house with flower boxes along the front windows, filled with chrysanthemums, daffodils, and lavender peonies. Emilio went around the car to help his father out, and he grasped Vincenzo's elbow tightly as the three of them slowly made their way up the slate steps to the front door.

Before they had reached the landing, the door opened, and a stunningly beautiful woman with wavy white hair and a perfect heart-shaped face opened the door. Tori couldn't take her eyes off of her. The woman smiled, her brown eyes glowing.

"Vincenzo, my friend," she said.

Vincenzo murmured something in Italian that made the woman's eyes fill with tears.

Tori turned to Emilio. "What did your father say?" she whispered.

Emilio paused, then shook his head, as if what he'd heard was even more surprising than anything else that had happened that day.

Then he turned to Tori and answered. "He said, ‘Giulia. It worked.'"

With slender, trembling fingers, Giulia reached up to stroke Tori's cheek. "My granddaughter," she said, her voice delicate and emotional yet melodic as well. "I've longed for this moment. Finally, you've found me."

Holding Tori's hand, she introduced herself to Emilio and then led them into her small, picturesque home, filled with elegant furniture in joyful colors—yellows, blues, and soft raspberry tones. She brought them to the dining table, which was set for lunch, and sat Tori next to her as she poured coffee and picked up the platter of small sandwiches to pass around the table. Tori was astonished at how much Giulia reminded her of her mother during her best days—beautiful and sociable, the kind of woman everyone falls in love with. She still had a million questions for Giulia, but for this moment, she allowed the pure joy of reunion to take over.

As they ate, Giulia made her first revelation—that she had believed for many years that Vincenzo was killed by the Nazis. So she'd been stunned when they ran into each other on a street in Rome some thirty years ago and had been fast friends ever since. Back then, she revealed quietly, she was still filled with sadness and determined to keep her identity a secret, and Vincenzo had honored that request, not even telling his children about her.

But the opening of the museum last year was the beginning of a change in her feelings about how to regard the past. "I heard they had the wedding dress there," she said. "And it made me realize that I'd spent enough time avoiding my past. I kept thinking about those horrific years, yet I remembered the lovely parts, too. The parts that never left me. The love. And I realized that I wanted to see if there was anyone who might remember or know or want to know… me…" She blinked back tears and reached for her napkin, pressing it against her mouth.

"So we came up with a plan," Vincenzo said.

"Yes," Giulia said, her eyes bright again. "I decided to… how do you say it in English? Stack the deck? I posted that comment on the website by the picture. It said the dressmaker Giulia Sancino was still alive. I didn't tell the museum about it or respond to any comments there, because I didn't want just anyone to reach out to me. But I thought that if someone from my family wanted to meet me—maybe they would come to find me…

"And here you are," she added and squeezed Tori's hand.

Tori smiled. "Yes, I am," she said. "And that was very clever. But I wasn't the one who figured it out. It was Marilene?—"

"Marilene? My Marilene?"

Tori nodded. "She lives with me. I grew up knowing her as my grandmother. She found the museum website and told me about you."

"Marilene?" Giulia said, her voice catching. "My dear God. I thought she had died. She and the whole family. I can't…" She placed a hand to her mouth. "I can't believe this is true…"

Tori felt her eyes fill. Suddenly her heart ached for this poor woman, her grandmother, who would have done so much so differently if only she'd known the truth. "I know that's what you were told. Vincenzo explained that to me," she said. "But she is alive. She's fine. She brought my mother to America as a little girl. She raised her as her own."

"And your mother?" Giulia asked. "Where is she now?"

Tori looked down.

"Oh, no," Giulia said. "How? When?"

Tori hesitated, thinking that now was the moment she'd been waiting for, the moment to blast Giulia for abandoning her baby and setting her on a course for tragedy. And yet, Tori didn't want to blast Giulia. And she didn't want to hurt her. Giulia had suffered too much already.

"It was a long time ago," she said. "And it was very sad. But you do have a great-granddaughter," she added. "Her name is Molly. She's eleven." She reached for her phone to show her a picture at her last birthday party, surrounded by friends. "This is her. I hope you will meet her. She's the best part of my life."

"Oh my darling," Giulia said. "She is lovely. Molly. I will meet her. Whatever it takes. And I will see Marilene again, too. And thank her for all she did."

"We'll call them later," Tori said. "Or we can video chat, so you can see them both." She sighed as she lowered her phone. "I have so many questions to ask you, so much to tell you. I don't know where to start."

"Of course, you do. And we will have time for all that. But…"

Just then, there was the sound of a key in the front door. "Just in time," she said. "Because for now, my Tori, there is someone I want you to meet. He went out for a bit after Vincenzo called to give you and me time to get acquainted. But he can't wait to meet you."

"Amore mio," she called. "We're in here."

A moment later a tall man walked into the room. He was wrinkled and stooped over, but his beauty was unmistakable, even at his age. He had a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and soft white hair. And big green eyes that looked right through you. Just as Marilene had described them. He was the man with Giulia in the photo that she'd seen in the first box she'd opened in the archives.

"Luca," Giulia said. "This is Tori, your granddaughter."

Tori got up and went to hug him, feeling his strong arms around her. And for the first time in a long time, maybe even in forever, she felt completely at home.