Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop (15 page)

Closing her eyes, Rosalia pushed all thoughts of Antonio out of her mind. She could not think about him right now. She felt spent, and she needed to focus all of her energy on finding her family. For the sooner she found them, the sooner she could leave the convent and not have to worry about being so close to Antonio.

11

Gli Occhi di Santa Lucia

SAINT LUCY'S EYES

 

 

 

 

T
oday was December 13th and the feast day of Santa Lucia. In addition to the pastry shop's being busy preparing for Christmas, the past few days had been even more frenetic since they were also preparing the famous pastries that were made in honor of Saint Lucy—
Gli Occhi di Santa Lucia
or Saint Lucy's Eyes. The nuns would be selling the pastries both at their shop and to the vendors who would sell them at the Saint Lucy festival. The festival was set to start this afternoon.

Rosalia had prayed to Saint Lucy this morning and asked her to give her strength. She had resolved to end her convalescence in her bedroom and join the nuns and the other lay workers in the kitchen. Over the past few days, she'd begun to feel guilty that they were working so hard while she lay idle in her room. She owed everything to Madre Carmela, and shame filled Rosalia when she thought about how she was repaying her and the other nuns and workers by letting everyone wait on her while they already had their hands full with the pastry shop. Although the thought of seeing Antonio again and having to work near him still made her feel slightly queasy, Rosalia knew she couldn't stay locked away in her room forever either.

She twisted her long hair tightly and then coiled it into a bun at the back of her head, securing it with a few pins. Once she was done, she took a deep breath and made her way to the kitchen. Her heart beat faster with each step she took.

When she reached the kitchen, she paused a moment before entering. A row of nuns stood side by side at one of the work counters, each kneading dough with rolling pins that were no wider than ten inches. The shorter rolling pins allowed several workers to stand at the counter at a time, taking up less space and thereby ensuring more pastries were produced. At another counter, Anunziata and Mari were busy coiling dough to form the Saint Lucy's Eyes. Once they were done shaping the pastries, they placed two almonds in the center of the coils to complete the saint's “eyes.”

Rosalia scanned the rest of the kitchen. Antonio was nowhere to be seen. She felt herself relax a little and stepped into the kitchen. Everyone was too busy working to notice her. But just when she thought she could blend in without a commotion, Sorella Domenica barked, “Ah! I see your vacation is over!”

Everyone glanced up from her work and looked to where Rosalia was standing. Her cheeks burned, and anger filled every pore in her body. She wanted to lash out at Sorella Domenica, but was too embarrassed. She also felt she didn't have a right to be mad at the nun since Sorella Domenica was right. Rosalia had in essence been on “vacation” while they were all working.

“Rosalia!” Anunziata ran over and embraced her. “It is so good to see you here. Are you feeling better?”

Rosalia nodded. Her embarrassment from a moment ago quickly vanished as the rest of the lay workers and the other nuns came over and told her how happy they were to see her. Rosalia glanced in Sorella Domenica's direction. A big frown was on her face, and she resumed pounding the dough in front of her.

“Are you feeling up to working? We've missed having you here.” Mari placed her hand on Rosalia's shoulder and gave her a small smile, her eyes showing she understood Rosalia's pain. Once again, Rosalia couldn't help but wonder what had happened in Mari's past.

“
Si.
I would very much like to help you. It doesn't have to be with the pastries. I can wash the pans. Whatever you need.”

Rosalia was through with the special treatment everyone had afforded her both after she'd been rescued and once she realized her family was gone. She was ready to work hard and earn her keep at the convent.

“And waste the talent you've shown us when you have helped us bake? Come. You can finish coiling more
Gli Occhi di Santa Lucia
. I must've done fifty already, and I could use a break. I'll get started on something else.”

Rosalia followed Mari to the worktable where she'd been working with Anunziata. Mari showed her how to coil the eyes. Once the almonds were placed in the center of the coils, an egg wash was brushed over the pastry.

Rosalia and Anunziata worked quietly side by side. Rosalia was glad Anunziata was not bombarding her with questions. She just wanted to lose herself in her work and not think about her family for a little while.

“So, Rosalia, do you know why Saint Lucy is famous for her eyes?” Anunziata finally broke the silence.

“I seem to remember learning in school that she had been tortured, and her eyes were taken out.”

“When she was still quite young, she made a pledge to God that she would remain a virgin. But her mother promised her in marriage to a pagan. When she rejected him, he denounced her as a Christian to the authorities. The judge sentenced her to a life of prostitution, but apparently her body became immobile, and guards as well as a team of oxen couldn't move her. Then the judge had her tortured, putting her eyes out, but miraculously her sight was restored. He then attempted to burn her, but the fires were mysteriously extinguished. She finally died after they stabbed her in the throat with a sword. There is another story that claims she put out her own eyes and carried them on a tray to dissuade any suitors from looking at her. That is why statues of her often show her holding a tray with eyes.”

“How horrible. The poor girl suffered so much.” Rosalia thought about how so many young women had suffered over the centuries for wanting to protect their virtue. She shuddered as her mind inevitably went to the cave where Marco had held her captive and inflicted his own torture on her.

“Are you all right, Rosalia?” Anunziata asked. Then realization dawned on her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Rosalia. I shouldn't have told you that story.”

“It's all right, Anunziata. I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Rosalia nodded. “Let's just finish here.”

When they were done preparing the pastries, they placed them in the oven.

“I think we could use a break. How about we each get a glass of water and step out for some fresh air?” Anunziata began untying her apron.

“But it seems so busy.” Rosalia looked over in Sorella Domenica's direction. She didn't want to give the impression that she was taking it easy once again.

“We all take breaks, Rosalia. If we didn't, we would never last. Come on.” Anunziata took her by the hand and led her toward the icebox. She took out a glass pitcher and poured two glasses of water. She handed one glass to Rosalia and then led the way outside. They walked, arm in arm, slowly around the courtyard. Lines of patrons were beginning to form in front of the seller's windows. It was a cloudy day, but everyone seemed excited. Rosalia could hear the patrons talking about the Saint Lucy festival.

“You must come with us to the feast later. All the lay workers will be heading over as soon as we're done with lunch,” Anunziata said as she raked her fingers through her hair.

“Maybe.”

“I insist, Rosalia. You can't miss it. The Saint Lucy feast is one of the best our town holds.”

Rosalia didn't say anything.

“I saw you talking to Antonio the other day. Isn't he nice?”

Rosalia was stunned for a moment, having thought no one had seen them outside that day. “Where were you? I didn't see you.”

“I was standing behind the window and noticed.”

“He told me Madre Carmela hired him to be her apprentice. Is that true? I didn't see him today.”

“
Si.
He's at the markets, buying eggs and a few other groceries we needed. He is an extraordinary baker and a very hard worker. We're lucky to have him.”

“He mentioned that he's sleeping in the abandoned chapel. I didn't know there was a chapel other than the main one where the sisters pray.”

“It's at the back of the property. It's very old and needs repairs, but Madre Carmela has preferred to put the money she's made from the pastry shop back toward the business. She says someday she will make the necessary renovations in the chapel. I can't imagine anyone's sleeping there.” Anunziata giggled. “Imagine that! When you go to sleep all those statues are staring at you, and when you wake up, they're in the same fixed position, still staring at you!”

Rosalia laughed. It felt good. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. But then, in an instant, she remembered it had been with her family. Pushing away the sadness that was threatening to surface, she said to Anunziata, “He told me Madre had the chapel cleaned out for him. Perhaps the statues are no longer there?”

“I'm sure they are. Where would she put all those statues? You've never seen the chapel, right?”

“No, I haven't.”

“Come on. I'll show you.”

“But shouldn't we be getting back to work, Anunziata?”

“No one will notice how long we've been gone. They're all too busy.”

“Sorella Domenica will notice.”

“That witch. I don't know why she became a nun. She doesn't have a compassionate bone in her body. Thank God the other sisters aren't like her or I would've been gone from here a long time ago.”

Rosalia followed Anunziata. Though she was reluctant to take a longer break, she was also curious about this abandoned chapel. Anunziata was right. Rosalia couldn't imagine anyone's staying in a chapel.

They approached a grassy area. Wildflowers and weeds surrounded a small wooden structure. Rosalia was surprised the grounds were so unkempt here since the rest of the property was immaculately landscaped. As they approached the chapel, she could see how weak the structure looked. It was a simple little building that still held some charm even though it was in obvious need of repair.

Anunziata walked up the three broken steps that led to the chapel's entrance and was about to open the door when Rosalia stopped her.

“Should you be going inside? It is after all Antonio's home now.” Rosalia looked around in case he was returning home.

“That's true. I'm accustomed to coming to the chapel and taking a break. The door is probably locked now that someone lives here.” Anunziata twisted the doorknob, but to their surprise it turned.

“I guess he doesn't mind if anyone goes inside.” Anunziata smiled slyly and opened the door.

“Anunziata! Come back! I'm not coming inside with you.”

But Anunziata ignored her pleas and stepped inside. Rosalia paced back and forth a few feet away from the chapel, keeping watch in case anyone came by. After a couple of minutes, Anunziata came out.

“Just take a quick look. Then I promise we can leave.”

Rosalia glanced around nervously before walking quickly toward the chapel. Anunziata stepped back so she could peer inside. She'd been right. Statues of various saints stood on pedestals all around the chapel, which was quite small. A cot was pushed to the far side of the chapel. There was an empty space at the front and center of the chapel. Rosalia imagined the altar had probably once stood there and that Mass was conducted here before the chapel that the nuns presently used was built. Every Sunday, the town priest came to the chapel and said a private Mass for the nuns. At least Madre had removed the altar table to give Antonio more space and to make it feel less like a chapel, although with all those statues, it still felt very much like a house of worship.

“A radio!” Anunziata shouted as she ran toward Antonio's cot. A small transistor radio was perched at the bed's footpost. She turned it on. “Ah! Elvis!” She jumped up and down like a silly schoolgirl.

“Turn that off! Someone will hear it!”

But Anunziata began dancing like a crazy woman. Rosalia would've never dreamed the soft-spoken girl she'd befriended during her first weeks here had this daring streak.

“Let me have a little fun. You know we're not allowed to have radios in the convent.” Anunziata shook her hips wildly as she danced.

Rosalia glanced outside. No one was in sight. Still, they should be returning to the kitchen.

“Dance with me, Rosalia! Just one dance!” Anunziata rushed over to Rosalia's side and grabbed her hands, pulling her closer to the radio.

Rosalia couldn't help but laugh. Here they were dancing like two madwomen to Elvis Presley in an abandoned chapel with saints' statues surrounding them.

“Looks like you're having fun.”

Rosalia froze at the sound of Antonio's voice. She was too afraid to look in his direction.

“I'm sorry, Antonio. I just wanted to show Rosalia what the inside of the chapel looked like. We were just going to take a quick look and leave. We didn't touch any of your belongings—well, except for the radio. But that was my fault. I insisted. It's been so long since I've listened to music.” Anunziata turned the radio off.

Rosalia finally glanced in Antonio's direction. He was smiling, much to her surprise.

“That's all right. I can't expect you girls to do nothing but work and pray all day. We all need a little fun sometimes, right?” Antonio seemed to direct the question toward Rosalia as his eyes met hers. She looked away.

“See, Rosalia! I told you Antonio was nice. He doesn't even mind that we were snooping around.” Anunziata smiled at Antonio.

“We weren't snooping around. I'm sorry, Antonio. We'll leave now.” Rosalia didn't wait for Anunziata as she walked out of the chapel.

“Hey! Wait! Why the rush? We could listen to a few more songs,” Antonio pleaded.