Rosamanti by Noelle Clark Page A

silence filled the little kitchen.
    “Would you like to know where I come from?” Once again, his eyes were curious as he looked at her. Sitting forward on the edge of the seat, a grin spread across his face.
    “Si , signora. Tell me.”
    The evening passed very pleasantly. Carlo was a gracious young host and a good conversationalist. His interest in Australia—especially in kangaroos and koalas—was endless, and he fired question after question at her. Every time she answered, he would speak a few words in Italian to his mother, whose proud smile filled the room. Her ravioli and rich, aromatic tomato sauce was delicious. After dinner, Teresa produced a wooden board onto which she placed some crackers, olives, dried figs and delicious homemade goat’s cheese.
    “Geraldina. Geraldina!” Teresa pointed to the cheese, beaming.
    Geraldina’s cheese was indeed the best Sarah had ever tasted. It was hard to express her delight to Teresa, but the moisture in her eyes was enough to show Teresa how much she appreciated the humble yet beautiful meal and the wonderful company.
    “Signora, do you like—ah—I not sure how to say in English. Aragosta and gamberetti ? Frutti de Mare . Food from the sea?”
    “Oh sure. Do you?”
    Carlo’s face lit up.
    “Si. I have a boat. My own boat. I catch the sea foods and sell them. I bring you some.”
    “Really? You have your own boat?”
    “Well…” He fingered the salt shaker on the table. “Mine and Bruno’s. We share it. But…well it really belongs to him. You want some fish?”
    “That would be wonderful, Carlo. Thank you.” Touched by their generosity when it was obvious they had so little, she made a mental note to ensure she reciprocated in some way.
    After they had finished dinner, Sarah’s thoughts turned to the map written by a twelve year old Elena Lombardi.
    “Carlo, what does the word indizio mean? Such as a list— indizio uno, indizio due and so on?”
    The boy looked curious. “It means, signora, clue number one, clue number two. You have a puzzle you want Carlo to help with?”
    “Hmm. I just might. Would you like to come and visit me tomorrow morning? If it’s okay with your mama.”
    He quickly spoke to Teresa. She nodded her head. “Si . Non c'è problema.”
    When it was time for Sarah to walk home, both Carlo and Teresa accompanied her, flanked by the two large dogs bounding along, nose to the ground, enjoying their own passegiatta . At the entrance to Rosamanti, Sarah turned and embraced them both, giving them kisses on both cheeks.
    “Grazie. Thank you so much.” Turning to Carlo, she added, “See you at nine?”
    Their faces shone in the moonlight. “Ciao. A dopo . See you later.” Carlo’s voice rung in her ears as she walked up to Rosamanti, where her three hungry cats gave her a welcome as though she’d been gone for weeks.
    Quickly filling their bowls, she fondled each one as they purred loudly, munching away at their food. An open bottle of wine sat in the refrigerator and she poured herself a glass, taking it through to the drawing room. She sat down on Nonna’s settee and went through the events of this amazing day in her head. She was so happy to have made friends with Teresa and Carlo. Their warm hospitality filled her with affection for them. Then her thoughts turned to Pietro. Warmth like a furnace blast seeped through her, starting at her toes and working its way up, centering on her heart. Pietro . She laughed to herself. How could I be missing him so much? This is only the first evening I haven’t seen him in the short time I’ve been here, but … Eventually she finished the glass of wine and made her way upstairs, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    A little brown face peered around the open kitchen door. “Ciao, signora.”
    Sarah turned and smiled at him. “Ciao, Carlo. Come on in.”
    He sniffed the air and licked his lips.
    “I’ve been baking. I made some Australian