Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop by Rosanna Chiofalo

parents. I realize now I handled matters the wrong way that afternoon I last saw you. I should have come to your home first and spoken to your father. Look, I even brought something for you and your mother.’
    â€œMarco lifted a small box from a pasticceria .
    â€œI looked away and picked up the sheet Marco had tossed to the ground. I threw it over the clothesline and began smoothing out the wrinkles from it. I was about to place a clothespin on one corner of the sheet when Marco’s hand closed over mine.
    â€œ ‘You are working too hard here. Your hands are dry. I could give you a better life, Rosalia—an easier one. You haven’t even looked inside the box. Have you ever had pastries like these before? ’
    â€œI couldn’t resist stealing a sidelong glance at the box that he now held open. The box was filled to the rim with the most beautiful cookies I had ever seen. A few were shaped like flowers; others were shaped like fish, and a few were oval shaped, but I wasn’t sure what these last ones were supposed to be. Each of the cookies had a slit cut into it, and contained a filling. I was so in awe of the cookies that I forgot about the sheet I was hanging and that Marco’s hand was still on mine.
    â€œHe came even closer to me and whispered, ‘ Sono belli, ah? ’ A wicked grin broke out across Marco’s face. He knew he’d intrigued me with the cookies, but I refused to give in.
    â€œ ‘I have seen far more beautiful cookies,’ I said as I shrugged my shoulders and then I went back to placing clothespins on the sheet, but not before I wrested my hand free from Marco’s grip.
    â€œBut he pleaded with me, ‘ Dai, Rosalia. Come on. Try one. I bought them in Lipari and carried them all the way here on the ferry.’
    â€œI couldn’t help laughing and said, ‘You went all the way to Lipari to buy cookies? You really are crazy, Marco.’
    â€œI don’t know what came over me, but suddenly I was no longer afraid of him. Instead, my anger was taking hold at his stubborn refusal to accept that I had no interest in him.
    â€œHis eyes darkened before he responded. ‘ Si, I went all the way to Lipari. Doesn’t that show you how much I care about you and what a good impression I want to make on your parents, that I would go to one of the finest pasticcerie and bring these as a gift? And they’re not just any cookies. They’re Nacatuli . On the island of Lipari, they serve these at engagement parties. Each of the different shaped cookies symbolizes a good omen for the couple. The roses symbolize love, the fish good luck, and the oval-shaped cookies are for fertility.’ Marco smiled.
    â€œOnce more, he seemed proud of himself, but I was horrified as I realized why he had brought these particular cookies to my home. And my suspicions were confirmed by what he said next.
    â€œ ‘Rosalia, we will be very happy together once we’re married and settled into our home. Once your father agrees to give me your hand in marriage, we can have the proper courtship until our wedding day.’
    â€œMy fury was completely unleashed at this point. I yelled, ‘I am never marrying you, Marco! And my father will never allow you to marry me! Never!’
    â€œMarco’s face went as white as the sheets I was hanging. For a few minutes, he said nothing. My fear returned, but I refused to let him see it. I turned my back to him and resumed hanging laundry. Perhaps my outburst would convince him finally to leave. If only I had been so lucky.
    â€œHe came up behind me and whispered into my ear, ‘You think you are too good for me, don’t you? But you’re nothing more than a tailor’s daughter. You should be honored that I am interested in you. Do you even know how much money my family has? You could live like a queen instead of being your parents’ slave at home and in the tailor shop. What is the