doubted she’d be able to sleep at all lying next to him.
He entered the darkened room in his robe and opened the window to let in the sea air. When he got into bed, he turned on his side toward her and drew her around so she faced him.
“Do you know that since we’ve been together again, all we’ve done is concentrate on me? I want to talk about you. I want to hear everything that happened to you from the morning you had to leave the castello.”
She tucked her hands beneath her pillow so she wouldn’t be tempted to throw them around his neck. “That was the worst moment of our lives. Mamma was so quiet I was frightened. We left with Bianca and her mother in a taxi early in the morning. At the train station in Milan, we all said goodbye. They were going back to Bellinzona in Switzerland, where their family came from.”
He let out a groan. “So that’s why Dimi couldn’t find her, either.”
“I cried for days. Bianca and I promised to write, but it didn’t last very long, because they moved again and one of my letters came back saying return to sender.”
Vincenzo stroked her hair with his free hand.
“As for Mamma, she at least had her sister and niece in Florence. They offered us a home over the bakery. I loved them and we were very blessed, really. She was able to work in the bakery immediately to start earning money.”
“Thank heaven your aunt was so good to you. I’d give anything to make it up to your mother for the pain. Not only couldn’t I protect my own mother, I couldn’t do a thing for yours.”
Gemma heard the tears in his voice. “Please don’t worry about it. My aunt knew Mamma had to use the Bonucci name so your father couldn’t track her down. Everything worked out.
“On our first weekend there, Mamma took me to the cemetery to see my papà’s grave. I never knew him, so all I could feel was sadness for that. But for the first time in years, I watched her break down sobbing. I’d been so fixated on my own problems, I never realized how much she’d suffered after losing my father.
“Their married life had been cut short and she didn’t have any more babies to love. My selfishness had caught up to me and I determined to be a better daughter to her from then on.”
“You were the best, Gemma! I was always impressed by how close you were to her. How did you end up going to cooking school? You never talked about it to me. I didn’t know that’s what you wanted to do.”
“I didn’t, either. I assumed I’d to go college. One time when you and I were together, I told you as much in order to impress you.”
“After I went to New York, I’d hoped that was what you would do.”
“The trouble was, I didn’t know what I wanted to study. Two weeks after we got to Florence, the family sat me down. I sensed they were worried about me, and they said they thought I might have been suffering from depression.”
Vincenzo reached for one of her hands and kissed the palm.
“They told me I should attend cooking school. If I didn’t like it, I didn’t have to keep going. But since I’d already learned how to cook by watching Mamma, I’d be way ahead of the other students applying there.
“It sounded horrible to me, but everything sounded horrible back then.” Her eyes stung with tears. “I’d lost all my friends.”
“That’s exactly how I felt when I arrived in New York,” he whispered.
“Oh, Vincenzo—” She tried not to cry. “Over the years Mamma had saved a little money, but not enough to go toward my schooling. Yet I never felt deprived.”
“You were loved, and that kind of wise frugality puts the sins my father and uncle committed to shame. Now keep telling me how you became a cook.”
“So my aunt who runs the bakery knew someone in the administration at the Epicurean School, and I was given a scholarship. When she said that it was close enough for me to take the bus there, I realized they were all telling me I had to go and try it. I knew it was what my mother wanted. She’d sacrificed everything for me, so I did it.”
“Did you hate it in the beginning?”
“No.”
He smiled. “That’s interesting.”
“It was a surprise to my family, too. On the first day I met a girl named Filippa Gatti, who was from Florence. She reminded me of Bianca, and we became friends right away. She said she was tired of academic studies and wanted to do something different. After buying an expensive slice of ricotta cheese pie that tasted nasty, she thought, ‘Why not be a pastry cook? Anyone could cook better than this!’”
“Why not?” Vincenzo laughed.
“With so many classes together, we hit it off, hating some of the teachers, loving others.”
“You mean the same way Dimi and I felt about our tutors.”
“Exactly.”
“I’d like to meet her one day.”
“She’d pass out if she ever met you.”
“Ouch.”
Gemma chuckled. “You know what I mean. There’s no man like you around anywhere.” He kissed her again. “She helped me deal with my pain over losing you, and our friendship got me through those nine years as an apprentice.”
“I’m glad you have her in your life.”
“So am I. You’d love her. She’s darling, with black hair like yours and the most amazing sapphire-blue eyes. She’s fun and so smart. After work we’d go to movies and eat dinner out and shop. Sometimes we took little trips along the Ligurian coastline. We’d visit lots of restaurants and check out the food.”
He grinned. “Were there any good ones?”
“I found out you can’t get a bad meal in Italy, but we determined to invent some fabulous dishes that would become famous someday. The truth is, Mamma was the creator in our family, better than my aunt or my grandmother and great-grandmother, who started the bakery. All I could do was try to match her expertise.”
“You’ve succeeded, Gemma. Is Filippa as good a cook as you?”
“Much better, and that’s the truth. She’s innovative, you know?”
“I saw your résumé. You were named the top student in your class.”
“That’s because Signora Gallo, the woman on the board, loved my aunt and knew it would make her happy to give her niece the top ranking. It should have been Filippa.”
“Where is she now?”
“In Canada, applying for a pastry chef position in Ottawa.”
“Could you have applied there?”
“Yes, but I wanted a position in France. That is, until I saw the opening advertised at the castello.”
“It was our luck we got you first. Finders, keepers. Cesare believes you applied for the position because it was meant to be. But I hope your friend gets what she wants.”
“Me too. She always wanted to work at a restaurant in New York City and be written up in some glossy magazine as Italy’s greatest cooking sensation. I’m kidding. She never said that, but I know she wanted to work in New York. In time I know she will, and I hope she becomes famous.”
“I could put in a good word for her with Cesare. He owns an excellent restaurant chain.”
She put her fingers to his lips. “No favors. We’re going to be ordinary people right now, remember? But thank you for being so kind and generous.”
“Gemma...an ordinary person can recommend someone for a job without being a duca.”
“You don’t