Free Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop by Rosanna Chiofalo Page B

no longer at the shop.
    â€œI asked Luca one day what he and Papà had said to Marco.
    â€œHe said, ‘I told him I would break his legs if he came near you again, and Papà said he would make sure no one in town would ever hire him for any work.’
    â€œI asked Luca how he could’ve threatened to hurt Marco since he was studying to be a priest.
    â€œHe said, ‘I know I sinned, but I went crazy thinking of how he made advances toward you when you were all alone. Besides, he needed to realize that we were serious.’
    â€œLuca had always been my greatest defender. When we were children, a few boys and girls were teasing me because I was the shortest one in class. One day, Luca heard the kids teasing me. They had formed a ring around me and were taking turns pushing me so hard that I fell each time. Luca ran over and yelled at them and told them if he heard them make fun of me or lay a hand on me again, they would be sorry.
    â€œSo a few weeks went by and all seemed fine. I hadn’t seen Marco, and my father told me he had not noticed him skulking around outside the shop. We thought he’d understood that he was never to show his face again. I told Papà I could go back and help him, but he would only allow it if my mother or Luca were with me. He still regretted leaving me alone that afternoon in the shop when Marco kissed me.
    â€œOne morning, I was hanging laundry to dry in our yard. My mother and father were at the shop, and they had taken my little sister, Cecilia, with them. When I was left alone in the house, I would turn up the radio very high and sing along to the music while I did my chores.”
    Rosalia stopped talking as she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears still managed to stream down her face.
    â€œIf this is too much for you, Rosalia, we can stop for today.” Madre Carmela spoke in a gentle tone.
    Rosalia opened her eyes. “No, I need to get it all out now.”
    â€œ Va bene. All right. Go on when you are ready.” Madre Carmela waited patiently.
    â€œCarla Boni’s song ‘Mambo Italiano’ was on the radio. Oh! How I loved that song! Luca and I would always dance to it, making Cecilia laugh. Even Mamma and Papà would join in sometimes. So I was singing that song as I was hanging sheets I had just laundered. I was so wrapped up in the song that I didn’t notice the shadow on the other side of the sheet. And then without warning, Marco pulled the sheet off the clothesline and was standing before me with the most malicious smile. I almost screamed from the fright he gave me.
    â€œI asked him, ‘What are you doing here, Marco? How . . . how did you find out where I live?’ My heart was pounding so hard against my chest. I don’t know how I even managed to get those words out.
    â€œHe smiled as he said, ‘I followed your father home one night.’ He actually looked quite proud of himself.
    â€œâ€˜ Sei pazzo! ’ I yelled.
    â€œHe calmly said, ‘I am not crazy, Rosalia. Please don’t ever say that again. I’m sorry if I scared you, but surely you must see this was the only way for me to find you. Why haven’t you been at the shop? It wasn’t because of me, was it?’
    â€œI told him, ‘My father and brother warned you to keep your distance from me. You should leave before they come home. They will be back any minute now.’
    â€œNaturally, I was lying. Luca was back at the seminary, and Papà and Mamma would be at the shop until our midday meal, which we always had at one o’clock. It was only ten in the morning. Worse, I suspected Marco knew that my father wouldn’t be back until later since he had continued to spy on us and had even followed my father home. But I was desperate, and I hoped that the insane part of Marco would perhaps believe my lie.
    â€œHe didn’t seem to be deterred and said, ‘That’s all right, Rosalia. I will wait for your