“Yes, entertain us in the little time you have left with us,” Anna piped in and hiccupped from her drink.
“Anna,” Mama scolded her, “maybe you should have some water.”
“Well, I was hired right after I finished school and have been working as a journalist ever since.”
I listened to her speak and couldn’t help but notice how vague she kept her story.
“What made you get into that line of work?” Roberto, Mariano’s father asked as he cut into his second serving of dessert. The man was huge and one day soon would keel over if he didn’t stop eating the way he did.
I nudged the pie closer to him.
“It allows me the opportunity to travel, but also allows me access to certain public information that I couldn’t get on my own.”
“Oh, and what sort of things are you looking for?” he asked with dessert falling out of his mouth.
“I’ve spent my life looking for my mama.” She played with the corner of the napkin.
“For someone who seems pretty reserved,” Anna interrupted as she bit the top of a bread stick, “what made you do that article? I mean, that cover was pretty revealing.”
“Doing that story gave me a lot of reach, so I took the opportunity to put myself out there in hopes that she might contact me.” She addressed her politely. “I thought maybe if I put myself out there, she would show herself.”
“Did she?” I found myself engulfed in her story.
“No.” She shook her head, and her gaze fell to the table.
“There’s still time.” Mama tried to give hope.
“Or maybe she wasn’t meant to be found.”
“Well, this seems depressing.” Mariano poured himself more wine and handed her the bottle when he noticed her glass was empty. I reached across the table and took the bottle from her hand and filled her glass.
We retired to the sitting room after dinner, and I noticed Sienna had slipped away.
“Piano room.” Francesco read my mind, and I waited for the right moment to duck out.
I had no idea what I was going to say, but I really wanted to see her. I stopped when I heard my father’s voice.
“The Capris date back to the fifth century here in Italy. We come from strong roots.”
“What does the crest symbolize?”
“As you might know, crows are all about family.” I watched as he pointed to the crest on the wall. “The crow represents family, the crown represents strength, and the shield represents the protection we provide for those loyal to the family. Family, strength, loyalty, and protection.” He caught me watching and kissed her head. “I’ll leave you be now, my dear.” As he turned to leave, she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and his face softened. He left and quietly closed the door on his way out.
I watched her admiring our family photos in the semi-dark, one hand wrapped around her stomach and the other on her hip. The reflection from the lamps danced across her slender body, and the way her eyes glinted revealed the depth of her emotion. The wind had picked up and rattled the windows of the house.
“I love your parents so much.” She must have felt me standing there. “Sometimes when I tell people about my past, I lie and pretend they were my parents.” She swiped at her cheek.
“You mean the world to them, too.”
“Please don’t,” she sniffed.
“Don’t what?” I moved a few steps closer.
“Act like I matter.”
“You matter. You always have.”
“Have I?” Heavy tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “I don’t think so.”