Stella Mia Read online

  “Would you like some water before you begin, Sarina? Or perhaps something stronger to calm your nerves?” Signore Conti smiles derisively. My anger returns.

  “No, I am fine. But thank you.”

  “Va bene. Whenever you are ready.” He gestures toward me with his glass of liquor and then takes a huge gulp.

  Instead of singing the folk-style songs that I normally love to sing, I decide to sing a popular song from the 1950s that was sung by Teddy Reno called “Piccolissima Serenata”—small serenade.

  Closing my eyes, I begin to belt out the lyrics of the song. When I open my eyes, I try to avoid looking at Signore Conti, but I can tell from my peripheral vision he is giving me his full attention. The bartender has come out from the back and is now in his uniform. He leans his elbows on the bar, resting his chin in his hands as he watches me sing. Even the maid has stopped her cleaning and is tapping her foot along to the tempo of my singing. Seeing I have a rapt audience makes me bolder as I begin to swing my hips and snap my fingers. I am completely losing myself in the singing and don’t care anymore what Signore Conti thinks of me. And for the moment, I don’t even care if he gives me the job. All that matters right now is my love of singing and the joy I am feeling. I am truly happiest when I sing.

  I finish the song, and everyone applauds—even Signore Conti! He stands up and says, “Bravissima! Bravissima!”

  I merely nod my head and say, “Grazie.”

  “That was amazing. How long have you been singing?” the bartender asks me.

  “Since I was a young girl.”

  “Forgive me. My name is Gaetano.” He walks over, extending his hand.

  “I think I liked your version of ‘Piccolissima Serenata’ better than Teddy Reno’s!” the maid gushes like a teenage groupie. She walks over and also introduces herself. “Mi chiamo Grazia.”

  “Sarina.” I point to myself. “It’s nice to meet you, Grazia. What a beautiful name. I can see a song being made with your name.” I smile warmly at her.

  “Do you also write your own songs? Maybe you can write a song just for me!” Grazia giggles. Though she has to be in her late twenties, she still exhibits a schoolgirl’s demeanor.

  “Maybe!” I laugh.

  “So you do write your own songs?” Signore Conti asks. He is looking at me differently than he was at the beginning of our meeting. I now see respect in his eyes.

  “Yes. I usually like to sing my own songs, but of course I have favorites from popular musicians, too.”

  “I forgot to mention that I also have a piano player who accompanies the singer.” Signore Conti gestures toward Gaetano.

  “I thought you were the bartender?” I ask in surprise.

  Gaetano laughs. “I am. But I need the extra money, so Signore Conti agreed to hire me as a pianist as well. It’s helped greatly since we lost Anna, the singer we had.”

  “I take it you don’t sing?”

  “No. My voice is okay, but just that. Besides, I’m happier just playing the piano.”

  “Can you start tonight?” Signore Conti asks me.

  “Si. Grazie molto. I will not disappoint you or your guests.”

  “I’m sure you won’t.” Signore Conti laughs and pats my shoulder. He then turns to Gaetano and Grazia. “Can you please excuse us? I want to discuss some details in private with her.”

  Gaetano and Grazia walk out of the bar.

  Signore Conti tells me how much he will be paying me. I try to hide my elation since it is much more than I had hoped for.

  “That is generous. Grazie, signore.”

  “Where do you live?”

  My face immediately turns crimson as I cringe at the thought of having to tell him I live on the beach. I cannot think of a lie and decide to be honest.

  “I am living on one of the beaches. I had a difficult time securing work when I arrived in Taormina last month. There is a group of gypsies on the beach. They were kind enough to let me stay with them in their tent.” I do not meet Signore Conti’s gaze.

  “Gypsies do not act kindly toward others without getting something in return.” Signore Conti lowers his face until his eyes meet mine.

  “They offered to teach me how to read tarot cards. I split what I make with them. They pay for my food as well.”

  Signore Conti begins pacing back and forth, looking pensive as he smoothes down his mustache with the fingers of his right hand.

  “How would you feel about reading fortunes here in addition to singing? I’ve never had a fortune-teller, and whenever I’m at the beaches, I see all the fools who flock for a reading. I will pay you an additional five liras a week. Also, you will need to be much closer since you will be working at night and the tram suspends service in the evenings. I can offer you room and board. Of course, it will be a room in the staff’s quarters, but I’m sure it will be more comfortable than the gypsies’ tents on the beach.”

  “Thank you. I was worried about where I would live since it would be hard for me to take the tram every day, not to mention the expense.”

  “Va bene! It is all decided then.” He looks quite pleased with himself.

  “Signore Conti, I’m sorry. I know I told you I could start right away, but I just realized that the gypsies I have been staying with will be worried if I don’t return tonight. They have treated me well, and I don’t want to give them cause for concern. Would it be possible for me to start work tomorrow instead? This would also give me a chance to get my belongings.”

  “You give these gypsies too much thought. If it were the other way around, trust me you would be far from their minds. But that is fine. I’ve been without a singer for weeks now. One more day won’t break me. Actually, I almost forgot. I take it you do not have a larger wardrobe?” Signore Conti takes in my dress disapprovingly.

  “It is quite hot on the beach so I have had to resort to wearing sundresses. I can buy more appropriate dresses for work after I make my first earnings.”

  Signore Conti reaches in his back trousers’ pocket and takes out his wallet. He pulls out several liras and says, “I’ll pay you for this week now so you can go buy a couple of dresses that would be suitable. Since you don’t have to be at work until tomorrow evening, you have the rest of today and tomorrow to shop. Go to Gisella’s. She is across the street from Angela’s bread shop. Tell her you will be my new singer, and she will know what you should purchase.”

  “Grazie molto, signore!” I am absolutely beaming now. I cannot believe my good fortune.

  “If you do not have any other questions, I must leave for a meeting now.”

  “No. I do not have any questions. Thank you again, Signore Conti. I will see you tomorrow evening.”

  “Yes. Please don’t be late. Ah! I don’t believe I told you when to arrive. Come by four p.m. You can rehearse for a bit in here before the bar opens.”

  I nod my head. “Arrivederci, Signore Conti.”

  “Arrivederci.” Signore Conti looks at his watch and then hurries away.

  I take my time leaving the Villa Carlotta. Reveling in its grandeur, I feel giddy at the thought that soon I will be spending most of my time in such a magnificent place.

  Once outside, I walk quickly to Angela’s. I cannot wait to tell her my good news. On my way to Angela’s, I decide to visit the Church of San Nicola in the Piazza Duomo to say a quick prayer in thanks for getting the job at the Villa Carlotta. The medieval church is also known as the Duomo of Taormina. A gorgeous Baroque fountain with a centaur is situated in the center of the piazza. I remember learning in school that the centaur is the symbol of Taormina.

  Once inside, I step into one of the pews and sit on the bench. After I thank God for all the blessings He has given me since I arrived in Taormina, my thoughts drift to my father. If only he could see me now.

  10

  Una Grande Sorpresa

  A BIG SURPRISE

  July 31, 1969

  I am getting dressed in the small, but very pleasant, hotel room that Signore Con
ti has given me. Tonight will be my second working at the Villa Carlotta. While I was nervous performing in front of so many people last night, it went well. Everyone seemed to enjoy my performance, and I even had quite a few guests who were interested in having their cards read.

  Signore Conti wasted no time in having posters printed announcing that I would be singing at the hotel. He also had flyers advertising my services as a fortune-teller. The posters were placed all around the piazza in Taormina and of course on the hotel’s property. Earlier when I was rehearsing, Signore Conti came over and showed me the local newspaper, which also contained an advertisement he had placed about my fortune-telling. The ad included an illustration of a crystal globe with stars floating above it. The headline read, La Zingara Sa Tutto. The Gypsy Knows All. This bothered me since I’ve only been reading tarot for a short time, and I’m not God. I don’t “know all.” But of course I cannot say anything to Signore Conti. He is my boss now and is paying me generously.

  It was tiring having to read fortunes while taking my singing breaks, but I’m not complaining. I know how fortunate I am to have found work and to be living out my dream as a singer—a dream I thought impossible only a couple of months ago when I was still living under my father’s roof. I was sad to tell Maria and the other gypsies that I would no longer be working with them. Though she and Gianni seemed disappointed, they understood that I want to stay in Taormina. They made me promise to visit them a few times before they leave at the end of the summer.

  Signore Conti asked Grazia to do my hair. In addition to working as a maid at the Villa Carlotta, she is also attending school to receive her beautician’s license. A knock on my door brings me out of my thoughts.

  “Come in!” I shout.

  “Are you ready to have me do your hair?” Grazia walks over and kisses me on both cheeks. She is a very warm and kind person.

  “Si. Please do not style it elaborately. Simpler is better.”

  “Bah! I am the hairdresser, and as such, you need to trust my judgment. Besides, how can you know if you won’t like an elaborate do if you’ve never had one? I assume you have never had a beautician style your hair?”

  “No. I haven’t. My family could never afford such a luxury. Not even my poor mama got her hair done. She would give me trims, and since I wear my hair long, that was enough. Of course, she braided my hair and put it up in buns, but that was about it. I know it’s not so fashionable to have long hair still.” I look longingly at Grazia’s stylish short bob. She has lustrous light brown hair that is thick and straight. A beautiful white sash headband stands in perfect contrast to her dark locks.

  “I can cut your hair short some time if you like, but I think you should keep your hair long. It works on you, especially when you sing. There is something very alluring about long hair and even more about gorgeous red hair like yours.”

  “Perhaps. I will give it more thought before I let you shear it all off!” I laugh.

  Grazia takes the chair at my dresser and turns it away from the mirror.

  “I won’t be able to see,” I protest.

  “Exactly. I want to surprise you. So let me do my work.”

  I sit down and remain silent as Grazia tugs at my hair for what feels like forever, but only amounts to maybe twenty minutes.

  “Finito!” Grazia announces. “Are you ready to see my masterpiece?” Grazia smiles. I can tell she’s pleased with my hairstyle.

  I stand up and turn around. “Ahh!” I gasp, placing my hand over my mouth. “Is this really me?”

  Grazia laughs, “Si, bella!”

  “I look like that French actress. What is her name? Brigitte—”

  “Bardot. Yes. That is who I was thinking of. But you are a redheaded version.”

  My hair is pulled up into a high bun or beehive. Grazia has inserted two yellow roses, which she took from the vase on my dresser, in the side of the bun. Though my hair is swept up, she has managed to loosen it so that it is not pulled back severely. She also coaxed waves and soft curls out of my hair.

  “I am just missing the bangs that Brigitte Bardot has.” I tilt my head from side to side, admiring Grazia’s work. “You truly are talented, Grazia! Thank you!”

  “My pleasure. If you want, I can cut some bangs the next time I do your hair. I am off tomorrow so I won’t be able to style your hair. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t need my hair styled every night. Yes, I think I would like the bangs.”

  “That way you will have a new look without dramatically changing your hair by cutting the length so much.” Grazia looks at her watch. “It’s almost time for you to go on.” She kisses me again on both cheeks. “Good luck! I’m sure you will be as fantastic as you were last night!”

  “If I don’t see you later, have a good night.”

  “Ciao, Sarina!”

  “Ciao!”

  I stare at myself one last time. I truly am almost unrecognizable. The two dresses I bought are gowns. One is an emerald green that complements my auburn hair well, and the other an ivory hue. They are both fitted and long. I almost look like a film star. I felt a little uncomfortable at first when I wore the ivory dress last night. But as always when I sing, I am able to completely lose myself in the singing, and I even felt glamorous in the gown as I performed. I could not bring myself to wear the bolder emerald one last night. But Gisella from the boutique had insisted I buy it. I see how right she was now, especially with my hair styled and swept up. Taking a deep breath, I leave my room and make my way to the outdoor dining patio.

  Tonight is more thrilling for me than last night. And the audience is larger. I sing a few popular songs and even a few of my own folk songs. Everyone seems to be enjoying my original songs as much as the songs by other musicians that I am covering. I decide to end the night with a song I wrote about my cousin Agata and her growing love for Giuseppe. My mind goes back to the night I witnessed them kissing behind Luigi Milazzo’s house as the fireworks were erupting and I was making my escape. Tears fill my eyes as I think about my dear cousin and how I have abandoned her, too. Is she angry with me for leaving her? Fighting back tears, I finish singing the last lyrics of my song. The audience applauds thunderously.

  “Grazie mille! Mi chiamo Sarina. Spero che tutti voi avete goduto voi stessi.” Thanking the audience, I express my hope that they enjoyed the performance.

  “Brava! Brava!” they shout, continuing to applaud. I bow my head.

  “Sarina, I think they love you more than they did Anna,” Gaetano says as he stands up from the piano and takes his sheet music.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that, Gaetano. This is a new round of tourists, not the ones who heard Anna. It’s not a fair comparison. But thank you for your kind words and your beautiful piano accompaniment.” I smile.

  “Buonanotte. I see you have a fan waiting to talk to you.” Gaetano nods toward the bar.

  I glance over and freeze. Carlo! I had all but given up hope I would see him again. He continues staring straight into my eyes. Slowly, a grin spreads on his face. He steps off the bar stool and makes his way toward me. I do my best to appear calm as if his presence has not completely rattled me.

  “Ciao, Sarina. Che grande sorpresa!”

  I cannot help thinking that I am the one who has had a big surprise. But I dare not say so.

  “Sarina, I had no idea you were the amazing singer my father had hired.”

  “Your father? Signore Conti is your father?”

  “Yes. I thought I had mentioned to you when we met on the beach that Rinaldo worked for my father.”

  “You did, but you never said what you or your father did. Actually, I don’t know much about you, I’m afraid to say.” I offer a shy smile.

  “Well, we will be seeing much more of each other now that you are working here. So you will get to know me very well. And I hope I will get to know you better, too.” Carlo looks at me intensely.

  “Were you away? I haven’t seen you.”

  �
�Yes. Perhaps you’ve heard. My father is building another hotel in Enna. We take turns going there to oversee the construction.”

  “I had heard. And what are your responsibilities at the Villa Carlotta? Do you manage the hotel?”

  “Mostly. I also help out if one of our staff falls ill. Today, I was forced to deal with some plumbing problems.”

  “You even do that kind of work?” I ask incredulously.

  “Yes, Sarina. Just because I am the owner’s son, I do not place myself above the other workers, although my father wishes I would. But he and I are quite different.”

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t. If you aren’t too tired, would you like to stay and talk to me for a bit? We could even take a walk to the piazza.”

  “All right. But let me change my clothes. I feel too dressed up.”

  “No. You are perfect as you are. Truly stunning. Please don’t change.”

  I don’t know what to say to Carlo’s request. Although I am pleased that he has noticed how beautiful I look tonight, I feel a bit silly going to the piazza like this. Although many of the tourists get dressed up in the evening, my gown still feels too formal. But I don’t want to displease him. “Va bene. We can go for the walk now.”

  We make our way to the piazza.

  “May I ask about your mother? I haven’t heard your father mention her to me, and I would think I would have met her in these past two days.”