Page 172 of La Dolce Vita

Eve looked back behind her. “ZioLorenzo?”

“Yep. He needs someone to look after him.Va bene?”

Eve blinked her round blue eyes at her and nodded her agreement. Marietta went to the cabinet and got a glass then rinsed it in the sink. She then got the pitcher out of the fridge and poured the lemonade. “Take this toZio.”

“Va bene,” Eve said and raised her little hands. Marietta made sure she had a good grip on the glass before turning her to go back into the living room. She could see her from the kitchen. Eve went to her uncle and stopped at the side of his chair. He glanced over at her and smiled.

“Per te, Zio--for you, Uncle!” Eve exclaimed.

Lorenzo accepted the glass, and a made a big production of it. He swept Eve up with his strong arm and brought her on top of the chair with him. The little girl rested her face on his chest and cried again for her mama. Marietta watched them and smiled. Lorenzo gave Eve a sip of the lemonade before he took down several swallows for himself. The scene warmed Marietta's heart. She knew that eventually, it would be their only bambina who was on daddy's lap.

The little baby growing in her womb had robbed her of complete bladder control. Suddenly she had the strongest urge to pee. That was the worst part of her pregnancy was the urgency. She literally peed herself more than once when it became too much. How many bathroom trips was one woman expected to make in an afternoon?

"Be right back,” she said to the two. Lorenzo found cartoons and Eve settled on his lap staring at the television. She bounded up the stairs and hurried into the bathroom. She barely got her panties down before she began to pee. Marietta sat on the toilet and let go a deep sigh of relief. And then she realized there was no toilet paper. “You have got to be kidding me!”

She had to drip dry and then pull up her panties and flushed without wiping. She washed her hands exasperated. There was only one bathroom in the entire house. How the hell could it be out of toilet paper?

Marietta left the bathroom. She went to a hall closet and located the extra towels and rags. No toilet paper. Marietta remembered the laundry room downstairs and decided that was where it must be kept. She started to leave when her corner vision caught a glimpse of another door. She'd missed it on the floor before. It wasn't as large as the bedroom doors. But it was wide enough for a person to pass through. For a minute she stood there staring and contemplating its purpose. Mirabella hadn’t mentioned another room. Where did the door come from? Her curiosity overwhelmed her. And before she knew what she was doing, she was turning the doorknob and pulling it open.

What she expected to find was a closet of some kind. Instead, she found a narrow stairwell that went up. It was dark and dank. She kept a hand on the wall and tested each narrow step with her weight as she slowly climbed them to the next door. It too was unlocked. She opened the door and the air that hadn't been released or breathed for years rushed in and over her. She sneezed and coughed. She waved away invisible dust. She covered her mouth and nose with her forearm.

"Jesus!" she said. There was a lot of clutter. It was hard to make out most shapes without the assistance of light. She waved her hand above her as she moved in between boxes and found the string to the single light bulb. It blinked on. The cobwebs dangling from the bright orb almost made her run from the attic space screaming. She hated spiders. Still, she faced that fear and a few others and began to look around. Marietta smiled. There were dress mannequins. She counted six of them. Two had half finished pieces on them, and another had a pattern tacked down on it by pins. Was this her grandmother’s work? She moved carefully. Her eyes scanned the mannequins, the hat boxes, and several chests. There was furniture stacked. There was also an elegant birdcage that had to be considered an antique. She didn't know where to begin. And then she saw it. She saw it and couldn't believe it. She stood frozen with disbelief. To the far left under two other boxes was one with the simple word wrote across it. The box said, Lisa.

Marietta went over and lifted boxes she shouldn't have to get to her mother’s things. And she opened it and wanted to cry. Empty picture frames were stacked inside. There had to be close to seventy or eighty. And every picture was ripped from it. "No, no, there has to be something here," she said and scrambled to dig deeper.

There wasn't. She was on her knees pulling out the frames and glass. And from nowhere the longing in her that had been with her since she was a baby exploded. She broke down in tears. To be so close to her mother and grandmother and be denied the simplest thing like a photograph broke her heart. She wept hard.

***

“Ever have any regrets?” Mirabella asked.

Giovanni drove through the dark streets of a town locked behind their doors for the night. The few cars he did see were of people hurrying to end their day. He glanced over to his wife when she spoke. It wasn’t the question, but the soft sound of sadness in her voice that caused him worry. “Regrets?”

“Yes, ever have any?”

“I have many Bella. Some of them I’ve told you. Some I don’t like to think about.”

"Not talking about us. I'm talking about life. The one we had before we met. Do you have regrets?" she asked. This time, her gaze turned away from the passenger window to him. He felt her staring. He shrugged and kept his eyes trained on the road. He didn’t dwell too much on those regrets. Especially the one’s concerning his parents.

“Tell me one, please. Something you regret from your childhood.”

“I’ve told you,” he mumbled.

She placed a hand on his thigh. He glanced over to her and saw tears brimming in her eyes. He'd tell her anything to make her smile instead.

“I regret betraying my mother. In Ireland. Sending for my father.”

“If you hadn’t Catalina would not have been born,” Mirabella said.

“Yes, but what did it cost my mother to have us both? Who would she have been if my father had never laid eyes on her? She was a good woman, a lot like you. A good person and she had to compromise early in her life for her children and for my father.”

“So, you regret being born?” she asked.

He smiled. “I guess, in a way, sometimes I do.”

“Me too. Not being born, but having my mother lose so much of herself because of my conception. The thing is Gio, motherhood is the purest gift from God. After Eve was born, when she was put in my arms, I felt such inner peace. It was like I finally knew my purpose in life, to bring that special little girl into the world. Does that make sense?”

“It’s different for women. You carry life.”

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