Seventeen Weeks Without Speaking!

Oh I am so sick of counting. And so sick of waiting. Giovanni left on May 13th and here it is now September 9th. It's been 119 days, 17 weeks, which means he's been gone longer than he was here.

Naturally, I should probably fear the worst. That for whatever reason he's just not coming back.

I've had exactly one letter. Or more properly, I got a poem from him! Well, it was from him but not by him. It was one page, a sonnet by Petrach called: "Chiare, fresche et dolci acque," or "Clear, sweet fresh water."

The page began,

"My darling Filomena, I hope you are well, and writing in your journal! I think of you all the time, with enormous amounts of love!"

"Here is another sonnet by Petrach, a love poem just for you!

"Clear, sweet fresh water

where she, the only one who seemed

woman to me, rested her beautiful limbs..."

"...her face, her speech, her sweet smile

captured me, and so separated me,

from true thought

that I would say, sighing:

"How did I come here, and when?'

believing I was in heaven, not there where I

was.

Since then this grass

has so pleased me, nowhere else do I find

peace."

I suppose that I ought to be grateful that at least I got one letter, one poem, with him declaring his love. But at this point, I am losing hope! I am trying to live my life without expecting anything from him! But it's a never-ending challenge!

I am back to scrubbing floors, and doing a lot of laundry. My hands are dry and rough, and my fingernails are ragged, the skin cut and bleeding. Honestly, I've done enough laundry to last a lifetime. I made the mistake of telling Mama this when we were having our cafe two mornings ago. She told me that another new mother in the neighborhood, Maria Bichietti, needs help washing diapers and without thinking, I said, "Oh Mama I am just fed up with laundry. I think I prefer scrubbing floors."

She was quiet for a moment. Then she unloaded on me. "So I don't remember you being so fussy about laundry before your time at the villa. Does this mean you will refuse Signora Bichietti?"

I felt trapped. If I told her the truth and said I wanted to refuse the job, she would lecture me one more time about how I got hopelessly spoiled by the weeks I spent at the villa. So I tried a different tack.

"You know Mama it isn't wrong to try to find happiness and fulfilment in life."

Very slowly she stirred her cafe. "Perhaps that is true," she said after a few minutes. "Perhaps it isn't wrong to seek happiness and fulfillment. But Filomena, I promise you that as long as you are a poor person living in Paola, you are almost certain to be frustrated. You see, Fi, I believe that happiness and fulfillment are reserved for the wealthy. I know you do not want to hear this, but I'm telling you the sooner you accept your lot in life, the better off you will be."

Perhaps because I still hold out hope that Giovanni might rescue me from a life of poverty, I didn't want to hear what Mama was saying. But it made no sense to contradict her. I have tried that and she always ends up making me feel miserable by reminding me that Giovanni hasn't returned, and so, perhaps his intentions are not quite so honerable as I am hoping.

So instead of answering her right away, I started praying once again to the Virgin Mary, asking for a miracle, praying that Giovanni will come back here as he promised and make me his wife! This is what I've been doing for the past 119 days, praying for a miracle, at all hours of the day and night.

"I love you Mama," I whispered finally, getting up from the table, carrying my empty cup. "I will speak to Signora Bichietti this afternoon!"

**********

Three weeks have gone by, and now, today, September 30th, perhaps my prayers have been answered! I have reason to believe that Giovanni is on his way back to Paola. But I don't want to raise my hopes too high. Not until I see him with my two eyes, not until I feel his arms circling me, will I stop holding my breath.

This morning, it was overcast. I took a walk on the beach and the white sky pressed down on my spirits. Naturally I was thinking about Giovanni the whole time. I've gotten into the habit of walking the beach down to the large rocks, and sitting in the sand with my journal. I let the ocean breeze flow over me, and write my heart's innermost feelings on paper. Lately I've started writing in very small letters because I'm running out of pages.

I was writing about the frustration I was feeling, and how I was losing hope. And suddenly the sky opened up and poured cold rain on me and my beloved journal! I had all I could do to push the journal under my dress.

I rushed down the beach and by the time I reached town, I was soaking wet. I was feeling dreadful, so let down and frustrated. I started up the street. And then I heard my name.

"Filomena, is that you?"

Swiveling around, all I could see was an olive green tarp that looked like a walking tent! I waited and then the tarp lifted and there, a gift for my eyes was Tullio, all chubby faced and smiling!

"TULLIO!" I screamed! It seemed like nothing short of a miracle. "What in heaven's name are you doing in Paola?"

"First give me a proper hug!" I did, the two of us all sopping wet. "Filomena let's go someplace where we can dry off!"

Try as I might, I couldn't think of anywhere but the church! So there we went. Fortunately it was open, and no one was inside. We took the last row.

"Now tell me, Tullio, what are you doing here?" I was hoping against hope that he would say he was staying with Giovanni!

"That my dear is a longish story, but the bottom line is that Edoardo and I are staying in Giovanni's new place. And I am here to bring you news about him!"

"News?" I frowned. Why wasn't G here himself? I prepared myself for news that was bad!

"Yes, my dear, your friend Giovanni is at this moment in a very large sailboat, heading our way."

I nodded. "Sailing?" God knows, I wasn't expecting that. "Why is he sailing?"

"Well, and that too is a long story, having something to do with Giovanni's father, and his mother's will, but I would rather he fill you in on the details."

"I have heard virtually nothing from him for months," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I was beginning to think he wasn't going to return."

Tullio patted my hand. "Yes, and that's why I am here. I last saw Giovanni ...hmmmm....six weeks ago, when he was boarding the sailboat in Portoferraio, way up in Tuscany. He knew he would be out of reach for weeks and weeks, so he asked me, when I said Edoardo and I wanted to stay in his place here, if I would pay you a visit and reassure you that his intention is still to return to San Lucido."

"I see." I realized I should be happy, no, ecstatic, hearing this news but for some reason, it left me flat. Giovanni seemed more out of reach than ever, somewhere out in the open ocean!

"I never knew he sailed," I said.

"Oh yes, his family actually has two large boats."

At that moment, I heard the dreaded voice of the priest. "Filomena, when you visit the church you can at least pretend that you have come to pray!"

My stomach did a somersalt. I turned to face the front of the church. Father was sweeping down the aisle in a cloud of anger and his expression looked like it always used to: warlike! I stood up.

"Hello Father, I'm sorry if we were making too much noise, but it is raining so hard outside I didn't know where else to go. I would like to introduce you to one of Giovanni's closest friends, Tullio." And I couldn't recall his last name. It didn't make any difference. Father was not inclined to lay out the welcome mat for Tullio.

"I see. Hello Signor Tullio. Well, if the two of you have no intention of praying, I would ask you please to leave. Va t'en!"

We didn't waste any time. Fortunately it had stopped raining. Steam was coming up from the cobbles.

"I'm sorry about him." I chuckled. "Giovanni is the only person who seems to be able to get the old priest to smile."

Tullio laughed out loud. "Ah, I bet the priest responds well to large monetary donations!"

"Yes, you could say that!" We started walking, and ended up at the water. The sand was wet. The sun was emerging, turning the steel grey water blue again.

"Anyway, Giovanni asked me to give you this. He pulled an envelope out of his leather satchel. Sorry it has gotten a bit soggy!"

I held the envelope to my chest. I inhaled. Suddenly I had an image of Giovanni standing on the bow of a sailboat, his face tanned and leathery. "So Tullio, did he say when he would be arriving here?"

"So of course there is no way of knowing for sure, because they are at the mercy of the winds and the weather. But when I left him in Tuscany, he said it would probably be six weeks. So he should be here any day now." Tullio stopped. "And Filomena, he made sure that I tell you how much he has missed you and how desperate he is to see you again."

I smiled. Could this be happening? Without thinking I wrapped my arms around Tullio, tarp and all. He pulled away after a moment, chuckling.

"Is the new house ready to be occupied?" I asked.

He laughed again. "Not really. But Edoardo and I are used to roughing it."

I was anxious to read the letter. "Tullio, I can't thank you enough for making the trip here to find me. I am in a hurry to get home now, but might we get together in the next few days? You and me and Edoardo?"

"An excellent plan," he replied. "How would it be we have a picnic on the beach?"

"I like that idea. Can we say the day after tomorrow? Perhaps later in the afternoon?" That would give me time to finish the laundry for Signora Bichetti.

We parted and I continued down the beach and settled once again at the large rocks, desperate to read Giovanni's letter! j

*********

My hands trembled so much I had trouble ripping open the envelope. Inside was a thick sheet of fine paper, with Giovanni's initials embossed in gold letters: GSM (S for Sebastian.) I held my breath as I read:

"My darling Filomena, it has been such a long time, but I still remember how it felt to touch your skin, to kiss your chest, to have you nestled in my arms as we rode in the carriage underneath the sparkling stars.

"How are you? I have been well, except for a bad bout of stomach pain, I think brought on by dealing with my father! Naturally, we came to no resolution except for one thing. He was finally willing to admit that my mother had left me, specifically, one of the family's fine old sailboats. There are two in the family, one named Lucia and the other named Renzo, for those two famous characters who are betrothed in Manzoni's famous book,"I Promessi Sposi." I was fortunate to get the prettier boat, Lucia!

Why my father kept from me the fact that I had inherited a sailboat from Mama is not exactly clear. As I've often said, he seems to begrudge the fact that I actually enjoy my life!

"So if you are reading this letter, you know by now that I am returning to San Lucido by sea! Forgive me for taking some extra time but it is much-needed! After spending such an agonizing visit with my family in Tuscany, I am desperate to put space -- physical as well as mental -- between them and me! And once I learned the sailboat was mine, I could hardly leave it behind!!

"But at the same time I am desperate to see you! I told Tullio that I expect it to be a six-week trip if all goes as planned. (We are a crew of two, me and my long-time friend Matheus Garibaldi!) This is not a new sailboat, however, the Lucia has a long and solid history on the water!

"Pray for my safe arrival, my darling! I will see your blessed face in every wave, and in each and every sunrise and sunset.

"With all my love,

"Giovanni

I sat there staring out at the water, trying to imagine him bouncing endlessly on the ocean waves. I whispered to myself: you have waited this long, so continue to be strong, Filomena, be strong and be patient, and wait just a little longer!

Feeling Weak, and Finally, Strong!!!

Before I can speak, Giovanni sets the blanket and the satchel down and catches me up in his arms.

"I'm so so sorry," he whispers and this just gets me crying harder. I pull back from him.

"But...I..." What I want to say is "I don't understand, why did this happen?" But I am near hysteria now, I have both hands over my mouth, and I'm trying hard to stop crying, but I am gagging and gasping for air.

Giovanni takes me by the hand and leads me through the streets, me hiccuping and coughing, me staring at the cobblestones hoping I will fall through the earth.

Before I know it we are at the water, again, and the wind comes up and washes salty air over me and suddenly I can breathe, I take long gulps of the refreshing air, over and over again. I watch Giovanni slip off his shoes and when I am calm enough, I do the same, I untie my boots, remove my socks.

We walk to the water, saying nothing. Part of me wants to scream at him, how could you do this to me? Why did you lie? But instead, I stay mute, as does he. And after we have walked by the sea for a while, the waves sloshing over our feet, he speaks.

"Filomena, I will make this right, I promise you."

And in a calm voice I start to reply, "I'm not...sure...that I...that I..." I am about to say the words, "trust you anymore," but before I can, he seizes my hand in both of his and swings around to face me.

"Please don't say it, Fi," he says, "Please!"

My eyes close. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Whatever it was, don't say it."

"OK, OK, so I should simply remain silent, I should squash down my feelings, pretend they don't exist, is that the way you want it?" He says nothing.

"You see Giovanni you have created a monster in me, you got me writing day after day after day, laying down my feelings in words, and now you are telling me you don't want to hear those feelings, so what am I supposed to do?"

He throws his head back. Finally, he speaks, very quietly. "Go ahead then, say it."

"I don't know if I can trust you. You told me very clearly you were going to meet my mother to ask for my hand in marriage. And then you got there and...poof! Not that at all!"

He crosses his arms. "OK, yes. You're right. And I'm sorry Fi, I really am. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. And it doesn't mean I don't plan to ask you as soon as...as soon as I can." He looks exhausted.

I feel like I have a fire burning inside me. And suddenly I see myself standing there in front of him, beside the beautiful turquoise sea. And I realize that he is not going to put the fire out. He is not going to take away my fears, my doubts. Tomorrow he will be on his way out of town and it may be months before I see him again. I do not want to appear weak. I think about Papa, how strong he was, and I think about my journal, how much I have learned about myself and my feelings by writing, and suddenly I want to be as strong as I can possibly be.

"Giovanni, I love you and I believe that you love me. But for some reason that you won't explain, you cannot be clear with me. You cannot reaassure me. So I am going to say goodbye to you now, I don't want it to be a long sad goodbye, I thank you for all these weeks, months, writing with me, and being kind and loving toward me. But now it's time to say goodbye. So..." I go onto my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

He folds me into his arms and squeezes me so hard I can't breathe. "I do love you Filomena, I do, please don't forget that, don't forget me because I will be back, I promise!" He lets go of me, and then, holding onto my chin, he kisses my lips very gently and I feel myself tipping toward tears again.

I pull away. "Goodbye then," I say, and I turn and run down the beach as fast as I can. And I don't look back because if I did, I would stop running!

The Mystery and Magic of Reiki

Pyramids of light, in a rainbow of colors, pulsing inside out in my chest. Gigantic purple petunias, like horns of light, opening and closing. Waterfalls of blue, green and pink, spilling into channels in my heart.

Those are just a few of the myriad images that rambled through my mind during my second Reiki session with practitioner Sue Fish, of Great Barrington, MA. The second session was just as awe-inspiring and relaxing as the first!

Reiki is a kind of energy channeling, performed by a practitioner who gently holds her hands over different parts of your body. We humans are -- like everything else in the Universe -- a bundle of energy packaged in the form of flesh and blood and muscles and organs and limbs. When a Reiki healer touches your body, she is trying to guide the energy in such a way as to promote healing, wherever it happens to be needed.

My second session with Sue Fish came on the heels of the worst air quality disaster I have ever lived through. Never before have I not been able to go outdoors for fear of hurting my lungs. Never before have I lived in a place -- in Berkshire County, no less -- where the air quality was worse than in most cities in India.

OK, so my lungs are sensitive, mainly because I had a LOT of radiation 20 years ago when I was in treatment for Hodgkin's lymphoma. Yesterday, my lungs burned and this morning, when the air quality alert was still in effect, I started to panic.

How lucky for me that Sue Fish texted yesterday saying that she had a last minute cancellation for a Reiki treatment.

Lying on the table, the energy sank into my chest. The shapes and colors and forms came fast and furious, a non-stop light and color show. At one point, I came to see how easily fear swells up in my chest. After a few minutes I realized I needed a break and asked Sue for a sip of water. That's when she told me that sometimes people receiving Reiki feel "extra hands" resting on their bodies.

Shortly afterward, I experienced this myself. I've had lots and lots of Reiki treatment before but this has never happened to me until today. Sue had her hands on my chest for a few minutes, and when she lifted them off, it felt like her right hand was still there!

A few minutes later, she cupped her hands around my left foot. After she removed her hands, the pressure of her hands remained.

At the end of the session, I felt like I had been, energetically speaking, cleansed and rearranged. I was so much more relaxed. And the underlying panic I'd been feeling was gone.

Reiki helped me more than I can say when I was in treatment for lymphoma. An amazing woman named Renee Gibson performed the Reiki on me -- for free, she absolutely refused to take any payment! Towards the end of the grueling regimen -- I had 13 weeks straight of chemotherapy, with five different chemo drugs -- Renee had me on the table, with her hands on my diaphragm.

Suddenly, a flicker of light appeared above me and flew out the window. Renee and I both saw it!!! I know that Reiki helped in a huge way to heal me of the cancer! I couldn't be more grateful for Reiki, then and now!

Thank you Sue for sharing your gift of Reiki with me!

Mama, Even the Fruit?

"What took you so long?" Mama has her hands on her hips, which means she is really annoyed. "I was worried."

"I'm so sorry, Mama," I say, getting ready to tell her everything, well, almost everything. "Please sit down, because I have some wonderful news."

She is shaking her head as we sit down at the table. "I went to the church just now," I say. "I just wanted to tell Father to thank Giovanni for the eggs he sent for me."

Mama raises her hands. "But why was that necessary Filo? You have no reason to ..."

I raise my voice. "Please, Mama, will you please let me speak?"

She inhales, crosses her arms, waiting.

"Giovanni has declared his love for me, and he says he wants to meet you, right away, and he intends to propose marriage." Mama closes her eyes and sets her hands over her nose and mouth. She sits there and opens her eyes.

"Oh Filo, I want to believe you, I want to believe it...but..."

"But Mama I'm telling you the absolute truth!"

She closes her eyes again. For a moment, she says nothing. Then: "What I mean, Filomena, is that I want to believe that what he is telling you is true. Of course I believe you, Filo, but it's this wealthy man, a stranger from far away, it's him that I am doubting."

"But Mama, he even told the priest he cares for me! He said he would have been completely heartbroken if something had happened to me!" I'm telling Mama to believe in Giovanni, and so I am also convincing myself of his honorable intentions. "Please will you meet him? Let him tell you himself how he feels?"

"What I don't understand, Filomena, is why a man with all of his wealth would choose to marry someone who is not of his standing? How can his family accept that?"

"He and his family are...not close. His mother -- who he loved dearly -- passed away a few years ago and Giovanni adored her, but now he is trying to establish himself separate from his family, from his father in particular. He explained it all to me."

Mama raises her voice. "But no one is ever separate from his family, Filomena, don't you see that? Especially when it comes to marriage, it is always a family affair. There will be children, and grandparents will insist on seeing these children because they are their beloved offspring. You do not just marry this man, you marry his whole clan!"

I am getting tired of arguing with her. "Maybe it's different when you have so much money, Mama. Giovanni does not get along with his father, he calls him a bully, and he refuses to work in the wool factory like his brothers."

"And so what exactly will he do for money?"

"Mama, he has so much money he doesn't need to work. His mother's family owns Chianti vineyards throughout Tuscany."

She gets up from the table. "I don't know, Filomena. I just don't know about all this."

"Will you at least meet him? Ask him yourself! He wants so much to meet you. Please Mama."

When she speaks next, she sounds very calm. She sounds tired. "Let me think, Fi. Please let me be alone and think."

"OK but...he is leaving the day after tomorrow so, you would have to meet him...tomorrow." "Yes, yes, I understand, but for now please go!"

So I do, I go to Signora Strada's for the rest of the day. As I am washing the floor on my hands and knees, I think about what I said to Mama. Perhaps I was wrong to pour myself out to her. Considering the fact that I am myself still a tiny bit uncertain about Giovanni, maybe I should not have brought Mama into it, into this situation?

But in order for Giovanni to meet Mama, she must see him tomorrow...What's more, I need Mama's advice. And I cannot deceive her anymore!

I am exhausted when I finish working. I will go to bed early tonight, that's for sure.

When I get home, Mama and I exchange greetings. She has placed two bowls, full of polenta, on the table; the polenta is covered with her delicious spaghetti sauce with capers in it. I stop to wash my hands, and I take my place at the table.

I am so tired I do not want to make conversation, but Mama speaks.

"Filomena, I have decided that in fairness to you, I will meet this young man Giovanni. If he wants to meet me that badly, well, then, I will agree."

I'm shocked. I wasn't expecting this.

"Thank you so much, Mama," I say, getting up from my seat and embracing her. "You are so wonderful to me!"

"I hope so," she says, sounding sad. "Oh how I wish your Papa was here. I had a long conversation with him this afternoon." She shrugs. "At the end, I realized that I had no choice in this matter. I must say that I never expected you to present me with a son-in-law who is so wealthy. I just pray to God that he is a genuinely good man."

"He is," I say. On that, Mama and I can agree!

******** I am in front of the church before eleven. Nervous from the moment I woke up, I couldn't eat a thing all morning. I am wondering if perhaps Giovanni will decide not to come. Somehow, I would be relieved. Or would I? Oh no, I would be so disappointed.

When he appears, I am shocked. He is carrying two blankets under one arm, and a large satchel in the other hand. I can see one of the blankets is a beautiful sky blue color and the other is a soft shade of green.

"Bongiorno, mi amor," he says, smiling. I smile back.

"What is all this?" I whisper, pointing to the blankets.

"A few gifts for your Mama," he says, putting down the satchel. He hands me the blue blanket. It's as soft as anything I have ever felt! I raise it to my cheek and close my eyes. He is actually here, and he is going to meet Mama.

"You're really here," I say, and suddenly I feel very calm. And happier than I think I've ever felt.

"Of course I'm here Fi," he says, frowning. "Did you doubt me?"

"Oh Giovanni I'm sorry, but all this is happening so fast." I want to kiss him but not in front of the church.

"Here," he says, taking the blanket from me. He unfolds it and drapes it over my shoulders.

I laugh, putting it over my head for a moment, thinking that now I look just like a statue inside the church -- the one of the Virgin Mary.

Three Miracles in One Week!

I blink. Can it be? At first I think I'm dreaming. It seems impossible that Giovanni could actually be sitting only a few steps away. But then he stands and he seems more and more real because he is approaching me with open arms and a big grin.

"Oh I was hoping I would see you here my dear Filomena," he says, reaching for me. I'm sure he is going to take me in his arms, but at the last minute he simply picks up my right hand and holds it in both of his own. He turns to the priest.

"You know I thought I had lost this brave girl, Father," he says, pressing my hand between his own. "I thought she was going to drown the day I last saw her, and if she had, I tell you I would have been completely heartbroken."

I am mute, still trying to absorb the reality that ten minutes ago had seemed impossible.

"Well we must thank the good Lord that he saw fit to save her," the priest says, nodding. He had the thinnest possible smile on his face. On second thought, it wasn't a smile at all, but rather, a sneer.

But who cares? Giovanni is here, and in his right hand, thank the good Lord, he has my journal!

"Yes, and we must thank God a second time that Filomena recovered from her fever," Giovanni says. "Two miracles in one week."

"I...I want to thank you for...for the eggs, Giovanni," I say. "That was so ...thoughtful of you. And they were delicious. I didn't eat for four days!"

"It was the least I could do, considering the fact that you got sick after you nearly drowned at San Lucido." I look at him; I hadn't really connected the two events. He's right, of course, but the near drowning wasn't nearly as upsetting as what came after, both in and out of the water!

"Now that you are feeling better, Filomena," Giovanni asks, "I wonder if I might have the pleasure of escorting you home?"

I almost laugh out loud, as G sounds so formal. I am pretty sure he simply wants to get me out of the rectory, so I make up an answer. "Oh, that won't be necessary, as I am going to visit my friend Nunzi's house, but you can escort me there if you wish." My heart is rising skyward!

And then I remember something: "But wait, Giovanni, I thought you had to leave the villa?"

"I do, and I will, the day after tomorrow. But today I am here..."

I feel like sending up a cheer, but God forbid, not in front of the priest! G and I leave the rectory, and I feel like I am sailing on feathers.

"Oh how I have missed you, Fi," G says as soon as we are out of the church and walking down the steps. We stop at the bottom and he takes my hand and stares into my eyes. The look on his face is so serious. "Fi, I want to apologize for my father's horrendous behavior last week. Maybe now you can understand why I am so anxious to live apart from him." Giovanni shakes his head slowly. "He makes my life so miserable -- honestly I think it has become his full-time job to try to rule me AND ruin me."

"Oh Giovanni, I am so sorry! I really am!" I want to reach up and kiss him but I wouldn't dare, not right in front of the church, as someone might see us here. But I do whisper: "And I missed you too!"

"Shall we walk on the beach?" he asks.

"Yes I would love to, but first, per piacere, may I have my journal?!"

"Ah yes!" He hands it to me and I embrace the leather book with both hands and lay it over my heart.

"I feel like a vital part of me is now back in place! Thank you so much Giovanni!"

"Of course! You are a true writer, missing your journal so much!"

"Oh you have no idea! Actually, it might sound silly, but I'm thinking of giving her a name," I say. "Serena! Because writing in this journal, even if I am agitated, makes me feel so serene!"

"That's wonderful, Fi."

We walk to the beach in silence. After we remove our shoes and step into the sand, Giovanni takes me in his arms, journal and all, and he kisses me long and hard on the mouth.

I'm thrilled, but as we pull apart from each other, I look around, still afraid that someone will see us!

"Fi, I am just so happy you turned up at the church, I can't tell you how happy! Honestly I wasn't sure I would see you again. I wanted to come to your house but..."

"Yes, well, Giovanni, Mama is very strict and very old-fashioned. But don't take it personally, please." We resume walking at an easy pace, and of course, we are holding hands.

"Filomena, I really would like to meet your mother. Do you think she might see me?"

I stop, and turn to face him. I stare into G's gorgeous eyes. Doesn't he realize that the only way I could bring him home is if he proposes? Do I dare tell him? Something tells me I must, but not at this moment!

"Can we talk about this later please?" I ask him in a soft voice, and finally, he nods.

"Ok, then, later.

"So Giovanni, tell me about your plans once you leave the villa."

He explains to me that he has found a small house a few kilometers up the coast road where he will store some of his personal belongings.

"So you are renting this house?"

"Well, no, that wasn't possible. The house was for sale, and so I have bought it!"

My eyes open wide. "So you might decide to live there?"

"Yes I think so." He shakes his head. "But everything is up in the air at this moment. As you know, I have to go to Florence."

I consider asking him why, but something tells me I shouldn't pry. "Tell me about the house, is it right on the beach like the villa?"

"It is on the beach, yes, but it sits just above ground level, very close to the water. There are six bedrooms and when I finish the remodeling, it will have two bathrooms. And of course a large living room and a beautiful dining room and kitchen."

I laugh. "Wow, Giovanni, six bedrooms, that doesn't sound like a small house to me, not at all!"

He stops. "You know Fi, you are so right. I'm sorry I don't always see things from your perspective, which is a far more normal point of view than mine! I am so incredibly spoiled, living in the villa and places like it."

We keep walking. It occurs to me that I still don't know all that much about Giovanni's family. "G, if you are willing, maybe you can tell me more about your family? I mean, I know you don't get along with your father, and I understand totally why that is. But you have never spoken of your mother. And you have never explained how your family became so wealthy."

Giovanni stops. He closes his eyes. "Yes, I guess I do owe you some explanation of where I come from." He sighs. "But where do I start?"

Suddenly his face takes on a different look, as if a bout of bad weather has overcome him. "OK. My family. I can summarize my family history in two words: wool and wine. Lana e vino. Oh such lovely wool. My father's factories in Florence turn out the most exquisite cashmire. Beautiful clothing. And blankets -- I can give you one, I have so many!

"My mother's family was from Volpaia, a tiny town in Tuscany. Mama was actually descended from Lorenzo della Volpaia himself. He lived in the 1500s. An incredible man. An architect, a goldsmith, and as if that were not enough, he was a mathematician and a clockmaker too! He built the clock at the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence."

Giovanni raises both hands in the air. "And if you can believe it, he was a friend of Leonardo da Vinci!"

I am staring at him, wide-eyed. I feel like I am peering into some kind of fantastic history book. I never knew people like Giovanni existed. At least, not in my world. "So...so your family makes clocks?"

He laughs. "No, no, I'm sorry Filomena. My mother's family, her brothers, now they make wine, very fine Volpaia Chianti. We are known for it throughout the northern region. That too I can give to you, a bottle of fine Chianti." He slides his fingers deep into his curls. "I know all this must sound so...out of this world."

"Well, yes, it does. I must tell you, it is difficult for me to understand why you don't want to join your mother's business. I mean, you always got along with her, yes?"

We are walking again. He doesn't say anything right away. I wonder if I have offended him. I am about to apologize when I see that he is wiping his eyes. I set my hand on his arm. "I am so sorry Giovanni," I say. "It is none of my busines to ask such personal..."

"Of course it's your business," he says, lifting his head. His eyes are red. "My mother died two years ago," he says. "It was very sudden. She had blood poisoning and we don't know why. I was very close to my mother. I miss her so much. So much. She wanted me to work in the winery and I tried but Filomena, but" -- here he stops and stares into the ocean's horizon -- "it is just not for me!"

He looks at me directly.

"I see," I say, shaking my head, but honestly I'm not completely sure that I do see. If only my family had such rich enterprises!

"My father kind of wrecked everything for me. He is such a bully. He always bullied my mother, and even, he bullied her brothers, if you can believe it. Such a know-it-all who knows...shit!" We walk further. "I want no part of any of it." He opens his arms wide. "I am an artist, Filomena. I write constantly. I haven't told you, but I am now trying to write some librettos for opera. Perhaps if I can make some money as a writer, I will finally show my father that I have a career. Meanwhile, though, he thinks writing is a totally silly waste of time!"

"Well then he would get along well with my mother, Giovanni! She is forever telling me to put my diary away!"

He smiles. "You know, Filomena, I knew we had a lot in common. I knew that right away!"

It now occurs to me that I need to speak honestly to G before he goes away. There is no point in holding back! "I'll tell him when we get to the rocks," I promise myself; soon enough we are there! We sit down side by side facing the ocean. A cool breeze sweeps over us.

He turns to me and brings my hand to his lips. He kisses each of my fingers and lingers on my thumb. I pull my hand away.

"Giovanni, this isn't easy for me to say. But I have to tell you that when I left the villa last week, I...I decided that I wouldn't see you again." His mouth drops open and I lay my other hand over his lips. "No, please, G, let me finish!"

I take my hands and set them together in my lap. "So hearing your father...the way he was screaming about you...how you were 'screwing some common....'"

"No, please Filomena, don't say it, please please please, for my sake and yours, please don't repeat those words, please don't repeat any of his evil language, it is all the product of a warped mind!" He looks at me. He looks so terribly sad! And angry. I've never seen G look so angry!

"OK, OK, I won't say it, but we both know what he said. So later, I thought about it. And honestly, I realized that I have been fooling myself. I mean, we both know that you and I are..." My heart starts hammering. "Well, we come from such different worlds and I am a poor peasant girl, and it's never going to work to..."

Giovanni jumps to his feet and throws his arms out to each side! "NO NO NO," he splutters. "I won't let my father's poison infect the wonderful relationship I have with you! That's exactly what he was trying to do, standing there on the beach that day. He was screaming his poisonous venom at you and me, he was trying to denigrate our being together. I hate that man, Filomena, and I don't care that he's my father. Don't you see, Fi, we can't stand by and let the old and negative ways of thinking get in the way of our lives, and our love!" He reaches down and pulls me to my feet. "I love you Filomena, and I am going to do everything in my power to see that we stay together!"

I look at him. I am astonished. Amazingly, he simply denies the reality that most people take for granted. And then he gathers me in his arms again and just holds me tightly against his chest. I pull away but he doesn't let go of my hands.

"Filomena, you probably don't realize this, but I know that you walked home from the villa that night! I was so upset when I figured it out. I'm sure that's why you got so sick. I am so terribly sorry that I didn't see that you got a ride home in the carriage, I should ha..."

"Oh G, please don't worry about that, I am a strong girl, and I..."

"Yes, you are a strong girl, a very strong girl, Fi, but that's not the point. I wasn't thinking that night, I was so angry at my father. The next day, though, I realized how thoughtless it was of me -- you had suffered such a shock, almost drowning! And then to have to walk home in soaking wet clothes. How horrible for you!"

I squeeze his hands. It was an awful walk home, that is true and it was such a sad ending to my time at the villa.

He shakes his head back and forth very slowly. Those beautiful curls are thicker than ever. "You see, I've had almost a whole week to think about you, and all that time I was so worried that I might never see you again. The priest told me that your mother absolutely refused to permit me to visit you when you were so ill. At that point, I knew that I had probably ruined any chance I might have with you."

I am speechless. I cannot believe he missed me at least as much as I had missed him!

For a long moment, I say nothing. "I ...I'm not sure... what to say. Are you telling me that..."

"...I'm telling you that I want you in my life! For good! Yes, that's what I am saying, Filomena." He cups his hand under my chin and bends forward and kisses me softly on the lips.

"Let's...let's keep walking," I say, pulling away. "I'm...I need a little time to think about all this."

As we walk through the shallow waves, the water glitters in the sun. I am thinking that I want desperately to be in Giovanni's life forever. But how can he marry me if he doesn't have his family's approval?

And then a thought occurs to me. He hasn't once used the word marriage!

I stop. "Giovanni, I have to ask you a question...perhaps a difficult question."

"Yes, anything. Please."

"When you say you want me in your life for good, are you saying..." I inhale and let my breath out slowly. I lift my face to his. "Are you saying that you want me to be your... wife?"

He smiles, and nods. "Oh yes," he says, "Yes of course I do."

"But our families...we come from such different circumstances, I'm sorry, I keep coming back to it, I keep saying it, because I know it's a prob..."

He cuts me off. "Look, Filomena, I think you know me well enough now, you see me with my friends, you see how we have all embraced new thinking, free thinking, we are all for risorgimiento, but that's not just to unify our country, it's to bring modern education to everyone, it's to promote equality and..."

"Yes, yes, I understand all that, G, you've explained it to me and I do see what you're talking about. But...let's be clear. If we were to marry and have children..."

"We will have children, please Fi, say it as though you mean it..."

"OK, yes, sure, when...when we have children, do you honestly think we could bring them home to meet your family? Would your...your family accept me and them? Because I know my mother would but..."

Giovanni is glowing. "But nothing! You will be accepted, because you are fabulous, Filomena. You are beautiful and intelligent and lively! You don't need to apologize for anything. And as for my family, I am the one to decide who I will marry. Not my father or my brothers or anyone else! I have come here to establish my own life, away from all of them and their backward ways!"

Then he bends his head forward. And he is silent for a moment, and I am completely unprepared for what he says next. "But there is a family situation, however, that I must resolve before I can propose to you."

My mouth drops open. I feel as though all the breath has been knocked out of me.

"A family situation? What...situation is that? I am not sure I underst..."

"Don't worry your head about it Fi! I promise you that I have everything under control. Trust me my darling. Will you trust me? You must!"

I look up at him. He looks so earnest. How can I say no? "Of course I trust you, Giovanni." "And will you come back to see me as soon as I return to San Lucido, when I am moved into the new house? And be with me and my friends, writing and living our lives together?"

I inhale and nod my head and smile. "Yes, I'll come back."

"And so do you think your mother would permit me to visit your home? I could come with you right now?!"

"Oh, no, no, no," I say, shaking my head. "Certainly not today. I must give Mama plenty of time to get used to the idea."

For a moment, he looks hurt, but that passes. "As you wish. But I do hope she will agree to let me come when she is agreeable."

"I...I think she will," I say, smiling. Oh, but what will Mama say?

"Well, I am leaving the day after tomorrow, so....perhaps tomorrow?"

"Uh... tomorrow. Oh Giovanni you know how much I want to say yes, don't you? I will go home right now, I will ask Mama to meet you tomorrow! I hope and pray she says yes!"

"OK, so shall we meet in front of the church tomorrow at eleven?"

"OK, then," I say, "eleven." He takes me in his arms and kisses me again, so passionately, and I wonder if I am dreaming, and then I tell myself no, this isn't a dream at all it is the third miracle of an already miraculous week!

Meanwhile, I start praying. "Please God, please help me trust and believe in Giovanni, and please help him do what he says he will do." But he seems to be in such a rush. Why? Is it because he's trying to prove something to his father?

And to Mary, I pray simply: "I love him, I really do, but Mary, I need your protection and guidance today, tomorrow and always. Please let Giovanni return to San Lucido and be free to love me!"

I tell Giovanni that I need to get home. We embrace and walk back down the beach arm in arm. I don't say anything, but I continue praying!

Eggs Are Key to My Recovery!

I come home soaking wet. And yet, somehow I feel better. I have let go of some of the anger I feel toward the priest. I still feel certain that I am deeply in love with Giovanni, and I know that I want to see him as much as ever, even though I've told myself I should never see him again! Oh mio Dio I am so confused!

Racing into the ocean saved me, the salt water restored some of my sanity. I was careful not to go too deep, just until the ocean covered my breasts and then I sank down low so that my head was fully submerged. I took the pins out of my hair and stayed that way with my hair splayed in all directions. Finally my lungs started crying out for air.

That's when I blasted out of the cool water, and jumped as high as I could. I started running in the clear blue green waves, parallel to the shore. I ran as hard as I could, which brought me next to nowhere as the ocean is so powerful an opponent.

Finally, I sat down in the very shallow water. Ah, the color, such a beautiful turquoise in the sun, like a liquid gem, it was perfect. The waves crashed, and the foam and the water crawled up the sand and covered my bare legs and my hips. My dress was a muddy mess. I sat back on my elbows. My hair was loose and crusty with sand. It was so peaceful.

When I get home, Mama sees me, so wet and sandy and disheveled, and carrying my boots under my arm, and she has that fearful look in her eyes. "What is it Filomena? What happened? Tell me!"

I try to smile. "I'll not be going back to Giovanni's mansion, Mama," I announce, in a clear and steady voice. My bounce in the ocean has left me feeling clean, and calmer, even though I feel like my heart has been ripped out of me.

Mama settles down heavily in a kitchen chair. "Oh Filo," she begs, clasping her hands together on the table. "Tell me, did something happen Fi?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to talk about it, Mama." This time I smile for real. "But it is time to stop going. You were right when you said that I would never be Giovanni's equal, and now I really know that!"

Mama laces her fingers together. Her face looks pinched with sadness. "I am so sorry this had to happen, Filomena. All these weeks you have been going to the villa, somehow I started to forget that you and Giovanni come from such different worlds. But I should never have let you go to work there. I tell you, I blame the priest. He's the reason that you started going to the villa in the first place!"

The mention of the priest, and the memory of my encounter with him this morning, bundles me up with anxiety. "Oh, Mama, please don't blame yourself," I say. Tears flood my eyes. But I am determined to stay calm. "I am okay. I will be fine. All those weeks, when I was writing, I learned so much! And now I have found out for myself how things are." I shrug. "And so, no more."

Mama hesitates, and then asks me the question I suppose she must ask. "Was Giovanni a gentleman? Did he treat you properly?" She speaks the last word in a whisper.

"Yes, yes, Mama please, he was a gentleman. Please stop worrying about me!" An image of Giovanni's father ranting and raving on the beach pops into my mind. I close my eyes trying to erase him from memory.

"Of course I worry about you!" She inhales. "Do you think I ever wanted you to get hurt?"

"I know..." I say, "you..." but I am starting to cry now. Mama stands up and wraps her arms around me. I sob into her shoulder, but then I step back and wipe my eyes with my apron. "Thank you Mama for...for loving me the way you do!" And now I miss Papa, oh I can almost smell his tobacco! I squeeze Mama's hand. We stand there together. "Well, now that you are free," Mama says, "you should definitely go see Senora Strada. I saw her in the market yesterday, and she asked when you would be coming back. I told her I wasn't sure."

"So I will go by her house today and make arrangements. And I will visit Senora Ferraro too. You know how much she likes the way I sweep and wash and polish her floors."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I have an image of G's floor -- the pink and white marble with the high sheen. My stomach drops, as I imagine being in the mansion again. And with that, a feeling of desire comes back over me like an ocean wave. A few moments ago, I felt so strong and clear, telling Mama that it was over. Of course I can't go back. But now here I am swallowed up again in loving Giovanni. Oh God, maybe he will come back, maybe then I can go back to work for him again, wherever he lands! I am tingling, feeling his lips so softly on mine, and especially, his lips on my neck and my back and chest. And now I see him smiling at me. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of these images. Suddenly I realize that Mama has said something to me and I haven't been listening.

"I'm sorry Mama, what did you say?"

"I said, Fi, that I am so proud of you, you have a good head on your shoulders. And you are strong, just like your Papa was."

I smile thinking about my father, how he wasn't that physically strong at all, he limped all his life but still he was strong in spirit, he managed to make a living as a fisherman. I loved going out with him on the boat, I always caught a fish, usually a cod, or a sea bass, but naturally, with him helping to hold onto the fishing rod.

Then my face drops because I miss him so much too. It's been four years since his heart attack.

"Mama, I am going to take the bucket to the fountain and wash the sand out of my hair. And then maybe you can fix me a plate of bread and salami. I am so hungry!"

"Of course, I am always happy to see you hungry!"

I leave the house with the bucket. I planned on going to the fountain directly but then I think I should stop in to talk to Nunzi. I have so much to tell her. And then I think, I just can't go see her now. Is it embarrassment? Maybe. But it is also this feeling that I am now so much more grown up than I was just a few days ago. I realize that I want to keep certain things private. I also realize that I am missing Giovanni more and more. By the time I have finished washing my hair, I feel like there is a gaping hole forming in my chest where my heart was before.

******* It isn't an hour later that Nunzi appears at the door. She knocks once, and then pushes the door open. I am just swallowing the last bite of bread and salami.

"Oh Fi, how nice it is to see you," Nunzi says. "I missed you girl! -- Mi sei mancata, ragazza!"

"Me too, I missed you." But inside I feel like I am hiding the real Filomena, the one who now is so much wiser than the girl of a few days ago. I now understand what Nunzi used to tell me about men, how once they get going, it's hard to stop them! All of a sudden they are "loving a woman up and down her whole body! -- amare una donna su e giù per tutto il suo corpo!"

"So tell me, how is life at the mansion? And and is Giovanni behaving like a gentleman?"

I make myself busy myself getting up from the table, carrying my plate and cup to the wash bucket. "Oh the mansion, Nunzi, you cannot believe how huge, and how fancy it is! I wish you could see it -- so beautiful! The pink and white marble floors, and the staircases, and the statues, and they have a long staircase that runs from the terrace down to the sea! And a million bedrooms. And palm trees, giant palms, and big pots of red flowers."

"Well, Fi, I know all of this already, because you've told me before. But I am more interested in, you know -- how is it going with him?"

I come back to the table and lower myself into the chair. There is no way I am going to tell her what happened with G in the water, or what his maniac of a father did. "Well, so, I almost drowned and...well, Giovanni saved me! But he is leaving so I won't be going back to the villa.

"YOU ALMOST DROWNED, OH DEAR GOD FILO WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THE WATER????

"It's a long story Nunzi, but yes, I was in the water, and I wasn't being careful, I went out too far and the next thing I knew Giovanni was hauling me in, I mean, Nunzi I thought for real that I was going to die, I was terrified!"

"I don't understand. Why were you in the water at all? I thought you were working in the kitchen?"

I start to feel annoyed. Nunzi has always been like a big sister to me, which is fine, but still I hate it when she grills me like this. It's like she is part of the Carabinieri and I am a criminal. What can I tell Nunzi? I want to be careful. I don't want to tell her everything, that's for sure.

"Look, Nunzi, it's complicated. I mean with Giovanni leaving..."

"Well, yes, but..."

"So in the afternoon I had some free time and so did he and it was very warm. And so we went swimming." I shrug my shoulders and look at her matter-of-factly.

"And now he's leaving, you will miss him, yes?"

Suddenly I am so angry I want to sock Nunzi in her smiling face. "Yes, of course I will miss him, Nunzi, sometimes you ask the dumbest questions!"

"Oh well pardon me!" Nunzi shakes her head and sets one hand on her sizable hip. "So sorry to ask the bigshot questions! Filomena, I have never understood your relationship with him. Whoever heard of swimming when you are supposed to be working?"

I don't like the direction this conversation is taking. I refuse to tell Nunzi what happened. And I wouldn't dare tell her that I have fallen so deeply in love with Giovanni. If I do, I might start crying and never stop. I have lost this man that I truly love. How can I possibly find another man like him? No, I will end up being a spinster -- una zitella!

"Look, Nunzi, I had this job and it was great, and I loved writing with Giovanni and his friends, but now it's all over, so that's that. Hopefully Giovanni will be back and we can resume writing together." I hear how ridiculous I sound. I close my eyes and when I open them, I realize that Nunzi is eyeing me closely.

"Did something happen Fi? You know you can tell me, I will be sworn to secrecy of course!"

I love Nunzi but right now I wish she would disappear! No, I won't spell things out. What transpired with Giovanni feels like it's in a kind of golden bubble that I want to save forever. Telling Nunzi would pop that bubble with an ax!

"There's really nothing to tell. I uh...like Giovanni a great deal, but I feel there is no possibility for me to...you know, be married to him."

"Married? Who said anything about marriage? Filo, what is going on, have you lost your mind?"

Suddenly a fury rises up in me! Just like the priest, Nunzi is accusing me of being crazy, even to think about loving Giovanni. As if he couldn't possibly love me! As if I never had the right to fall in love with him, either. But why not, Giovanni has over and over again told me he loves me, and not only that he loves my writing!

"I have not lost my mind, and now, Nunzi, if you will excuse me," I get up from the table -- "I need to see Signora Strada right away, because God knows, I need a job!" I lead the way to the door and hold it open for Nunzi.

"I will see you soon, Noon (short for Nunzi)," I say, giving her a brief hug.

Nunzi passes out the door. "Yes, I guess so. And maybe then you'll get off your high horse and tell me the truth about what's going on!"

******

It's all arranged, I will go to Signora Strada's house tomorrow morning, and then in the afternoon, I will work for Signora Ferraro. After going to see both of my employers, a tremendous exhaustion suddenly descends over me. And a chill, despite the heat of the day. And my throat is scratchy too.

"You need to go to bed early," Mama tells me when I get home. "You've been through a lot these past few days. You've got to rest up before you work tomorrow!"

We eat lentil soup for dinner, and afterward, I help Mama clean up. Soon, though, I am in bed, and fast asleep. I dream about Giovanni; he is smiling at me, that charming smile I so adore, and he is running his hands up and down my arms very slowly. I'm going crazy in the dream because I am so desperate to kiss him -- somehow I can't! In the morning, I wake up in a sweat, and he is in the center of my mind. The sun is up, but I want to go back to sleep, I don't want to get up and have to feel this overwhelming desire to be in his presence again.

Mama opens my door. "Filomena, you have to get up and get going to Signora Strada's, no?"

"Yes," I say. But my throat has knives in it, it is so sore that it cramps up when I try to talk. "Mama, I think, I am feeling sick today and I may not be able to work."

Mama comes in and places a hand on my forehead. "Hmmm. You are hot. Do you feel like you have a fever?"

How I welcome this fever! Let it take over my body so I can stay in bed! "Yes, I do feel feverish," I croak.

"Well, then, I will get you some water. I guess you ought to rest at least this morning." Mama covers me up but as soon as she leaves the room, I shed all the covers, and lay on the bed shivering. All I can think is: "I can't live the rest of my life like this, wanting to see a man that I adore! I have to figure out a way to see him, at least once more so we can say a proper goodbye."

I am sunk in fever for almost four days! Mama tries the few ways she knows how to treat me: she presses cold cloths into my burning face. She boils water and crushes three cloves of garlic and mixes the garlic with warm water. She holds my head while I sip this repulsive drink. She gives me the herb made from poplar tree bark, and I see some relief, but after a few hours the fever returns.

My dreams keep repeating. I am climbing a staircase up from the ocean, I keep climbing and climbing, I see Giovanni's mansion in the distance but no matter how long I climb, I cannot reach it. I am walking the beach and I decide to swim out and I keep swimming and swimming waiting for him to reach for me.

Sometime during the fever, I hear a man's voice in the kitchen. My head is swimming but I know the voice. And now Mama answers politely. The man raises his voice and I know it to be the priest's. I want to get up, to go into the kitchen, to hear what he is saying to my mother, but when I try to sit up, to swing my legs over the side of the bed, my head is dizzying, and I'm burning up. My limbs won't cooperate. I wait a few minutes. There is silence. Was I just imagining the priest's voice? Would he really come to the house? Unlikely.

And then I hear the voice again. One loud shout. And then he's gone, slamming the door out of the kitchen.

I wait. Will Mama come in?

When she does come in, sometime later, she is carrying a bowl on a tray. She sits on the edge of bed. "Maybe this will make you feel better. Can you sit up?"

I roll over toward the wall and then using all my energy, I pull myself up. My eyes widen. Inside the bowl are two soft-boiled eggs. I look at my mother, who is holding a spoon.

"Yes, you are seeing right," she says, with a very serious look on her face. "The priest has come here twice since you got sick. The first time he came he said he was furious with you but he wouldn't tell me why! He even had me open your bedroom door so he could see with his own eyes that you actually were sick! And when he looked at you, he said, 'she deserves to suffer!'" Mama stands up. "Oh boy, I found my voice then! 'How dare you say that,' I said to him. 'That's enough from you Father!'"

My eyes shot open. Mama has never stood up to the priest before!

"Well then this morning, he brought these eggs as a gift from Giovanni. The priest says that Giovanni misses you, "desperately," according to the priest. He misses your cheerful face, your innocent ways. And he wants to know if the priest can bring him here to visit you!" Mama shakes her head. "The nerve of him!"

I gasp in silence. Am I hearing correctly? Could it possibly be true? Could Giovanni be missing me as much as I miss him? I thought by now that G would have left San Lucido, but maybe he is staying on, maybe because he needs to see me!

"So what did you say?" My voice is still a squeak. But suddenly I feel better. My blood is pulsing again and I am thrilled that I may see my beloved Giovanni again.

"I said no, of course, Filo. What else could I say? I said it wasn't proper or honorable to allow this man I hardly know to come see you in your condition."

My mood falls. I lay back down in bed.

"The priest wasn't pleased at all. He yelled at me that Giovanni is a man of the highest reputation. He said if we, that is, you and me, 'played our cards right,' we might find ourselves living a much better life."

Before I can ask how she responded, Mama tells me. "I know it is dangerous to cross the priest, but I told him he should never have arranged for you to go to San Lucido. I told him that Giovanni would never make you his wife, and I said that our life is fine just the way it is." Mama shakes her head again. "He yelled back at me that I would regret what I said. And then he left, slamming the door."

I stare up at the wooden beams in the ceiling. Of course it makes sense what Mama said. But now I feel all hope of seeing Giovanni is lost for good.

"Filo, please sit up, mia cara ragazza. Please eat these wonderful eggs!"

So I do, I eat the eggs, taking very small bites, along with a piece of buttered bread that Mama has cut into tiny squares. It is the first thing I have eaten in four days. When I'm done, I wipe my mouth on the cloth napkin. "That tasted just delicious, Mama."

"I'm glad." Mama stands. "You are looking a little more human this morning! That is very good to see! Now I want you to drink this cup of chamomile tea. Drink all of it!" She leaves the room and I sit up in bed drinking the tea and wondering if perhaps there isn't some way I can see Giovanni again. And without thinking about it, I decide to do my penance. I say ten Our Fathers and then, I ask the Virgin Mary to bring Giovanni back to me. I want to say the Rosary. But the rosary beads are in the kitchen.

It takes me a few moments to gather my strength, and then I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I stand, feeling light-headed, but steady myself against the wall. I make it all the way into the kitchen before I collapse into a chair. My mother is not there. I remain in the chair until my mother returns.

"Oh Filo how wonderful to see you up! Can I fix you some more chamomile tea?"

"Sure, Mama. And can you bring me the rosary beads please?"

Back in my room, I force myself to kneel in front of the bed. I say the rosary, and then I think about Giovanni wanting to visit me, I think about his sending me two eggs for breakfast. Without thinking, I say out loud, "I must see him again."

******

It takes me two more days before I have energy enough to get dressed and walk outside. After a small breakfast of bread and cheese and coffee, I open the door. The sun blinds me, at least at first.

"Mama, I am going out for a walk," I say, trying to sound casual.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" she asks.

"Oh yes, the fever is well behind me now."

"As you wish. Where are you going?"

"Oh, to the ocean I think. And then to talk to Signora Strada. I feel bad I was unable to work for her."

"Oh child, she understands. You take it easy walking!"

I head toward the water.

I take my boots off and welcome the cool sand between my toes, and the warm wind on my face. I am hoping for a miracle, that I will cross paths with Giovanni the same way I did that very first time I encountered him at the ocean. That day seems like a lifetime ago.

I walk the entire length of the beach and when I reach the pile of rocks, I turn around and walk back the other way. And then without really thinking, I walk to the church. I want to pray. At least that's what I tell myself.

But when I get to the sanctuary, I don't take a seat in a pew and I don't do any praying. I go directly to the rectory door and knock. After a moment, I hear the door being unlocked. The priest opens the door.

"Ah it's you Filomena," he says, scowling. "I see you are once more part of the living."

"Thank you Father. I want to..." I lift my head. "I want to apologize. I was...it was awful of me to...to swear...and to leave the confessional the way I did."

"You realize how dark a sin you have committed Filomena? There really is no forgiving what you said, and what you did!"

My heart is pounding. I don't want to start in again with the priest. What did I expect him to say.

"I'm sorry Father, but I'm only here to tell you this: please give Giovanni a message from me. He was so incredibly kind to send me those eggs when I was ill. They really revived me. Will you tell him that I said thank you?"

The priest gives me a sharp look, his dark eyes so narrow and scary. "Why don't you tell him yourself?" Without another word, he opens the door wider and there in the priest's easy chair sits Giovanni, smiling at me in a way that I haven't seen him smile before.

And Now, the Cement and the Butterfly!

She is lying there on the table and there is soft music playing and suddenly there it is again, the cement, squarely in her abdomen!

When she had the medical psychic reading 20 years ago during her cancer treatment (August 6th, 2003, a date chiseled forever into her memory!) she turned completely into cement. The psychic had told her that she would feel very very heavy, and she did, Leah felt heavy, like cement, and then, when the feeling lifted, the psychic said that Leah was to call her back.

Leah was in California that warm summer morning and the medical psychic was back in Vermont and they had only spoken once and had never met each other and the psychic didn't even know Leah's last name or any other information about her at all.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

That's when the miracles occurred.

OK, but today she wasn't expecting the cement again. Why should she?

Every other time she has had Reiki, with a different practitioner, a young woman she saw for years, it was relaxing but that's as far as it went.

Today when the Reiki woman laid her hands there -- where was it exactly? on her abdomen? on her chest? Just as soon as the session began, Leah wandered into a never never land, she felt the woman's hands channeling the chi, she could feel the energy pass into her own hands and then it went swooshing directly there: it became cement in her abdomen but not just that. Some kind of giant butterfly was also sitting there too, a beautiful yellow and what else, red or pink, or was it orange and black?

And somehow her hands were holding the butterfly, yes, she could feel her hands trying to guide the butterfly? But where?

When she tries to think back on it, when she tries too hard to pin the images down, the whole scene evaporates like steam vanishing off a teakettle.

But what she knew in that moment was the tension: the cement was there but then the energy was also the butterfly -- pretty and light and wanting to take flight.

And without thinking, that's when she felt Filomena, her great great grandmother, the one who had to give her illegitimate baby away in southern Italy back in 1870. The scenes Leah wrote last fall about Fi --in delivery and then the horrifying days after -- ah those were so difficult for Leah to write.

And now she knows why, she feels it squarely there, in her own abdomen, and that's when she thinks: yes Filomena had to let go of the infant almost immediately but every mother also has to let go. Every mother "loses" her baby, day by day by day the child grows up and eventually takes flight.

Leah's own daughter, who delivered a gorgeous little boy last November, recently told Leah that at the same time she is ecstatic and relishing every minute with the little cherub, she also feels that the days are slipping by way too fast, how could he possibly be six months old already?

Let that baby go, let that yearning take flight like the butterfly.

Let it go, that's what the energy wants to be, a freedom from cement.

She remembers the Reiki woman's hands on her head, over her eyes, and then the woman told Leah that she was snoring! Ha!

After it was all over, Leah talked briefly to the Reiki woman about her anxiety.

In Italian, "nervosa," nervous

I am nervous.

Sono nervosa

Sometimes I am a nervous woman

A volte sono una donna nervosa

And that is why, Leah decides, she will return as soon as possible for more Reiki.