“That’s not gonna happen. I know better now.”
Olivia bit back additional words of caution, not wanting to alienate the girl altogether. “All right. Well, you’ll have to come for a visit once you’re settled.”
“I will. Look, I gotta run now. Take care and wish me luck.”
The connection ended before Olivia could even say good-bye. Slowly, she hung up the receiver, an unsettled feeling swirling inside her. Would she ever hear from Joannie again? She let out a long sigh, then bowed her head.
Lord, please watch over Joannie and protect her from any further harm.
Later that afternoon, Olivia stepped out of Woolworth’s Department Store onto the sidewalk. Despite her success in finding a perfect gift for Sofia, her mind kept drifting back to her conversation with Joannie. She hated that her friend was returning to the same circumstances that had caused all her problems in the first place. But there was nothing Olivia could do to help the situation, except pray for her friend.
Olivia waited for the next streetcar, paid her fare, and sat with her parcels on her lap. As the streets passed by, her thoughts turned to her family. Her visit with Sal had resurrected a deep longing to reconnect with her parents. Sal had said her mother missed her. And she desperately missed Mamma. Why should her father dictate that they couldn’t see each other? If he wanted nothing to do with her, so be it. But she had every right to see her mother. At the very least, she had a right to patronize Rosetti’s Market, and if she happened to run into Mamma there, well, he couldn’t stop that.
Olivia checked her watch. It was still early enough in the afternoon to squeeze in a trip to the store. Before she could change her mind, she got ready to disembark and catch the next bus going north.
Thirty minutes later, she walked slowly down the street toward the store, enjoying the late-August sunshine. This time, Olivia paused to drink in the sights and smells of her old neighborhood. Mrs. Egan changing the mannequin in the window of her dress shop; old Mr. Franco sweeping the sidewalk in front of the barber shop; the enticing aroma of garlic and onions drifting down from the open windows above the stores. Each brought back cherished memories of her childhood.
When she reached Rosetti’s, she slowed to a stop and eyed the women who stood by the sidewalk bins, fingering the nectarines and peaches. Olivia didn’t recognize them, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t know her. With a determined lift of her chin, she walked past them into the store. Inside, she inhaled the familiar scent of fresh produce before scanning the area for her mother. She hoped to catch her alone, to talk to her without Papà’s hawkish eyes watching them.
Luck was on her side. She found her mother in the last aisle, mopping up a broken jar of pickles. She wore a black skirt, a red apron, and a kerchief tied around her hair.
“Ciao, Mamma.” A bubble of warmth surged through Olivia’s chest.
Her mother’s head snapped up. “Olivia.” The initial delight on her face faded as quickly as it had appeared. She set the mop aside and turned to glance over her shoulder.
Olivia moved closer, the warped wooden boards creaking beneath her feet, and clasped her mother in a hug. “I came to let you know I’m all right.” She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of oregano and garlic. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”
Mamma hugged her back. “I’ve missed you, cara. You look better.” She held Olivia at arm’s length. “You gained some weight.”
“A little. I’m almost back to normal.”
“Salvatore says you work with troubled women. Are you happy there?” Little creases marred Mamma’s forehead between her small dark eyes.
“Yes, Mamma.” She forced any sad thoughts away. Now was not the time to remember her sorrows. “How is everyone? Have you heard from Tony?”
“Sì, he writes often. He is doing as well as he can in a war.”
“I pray for him every night,” Olivia whispered. “And for all of you too.”
“Grazie, cara. I worry so much for you.” Tears sprang to Mamma’s eyes.
Olivia pulled her close in another warm hug. Though Olivia was not considered tall, her mother came only to her chin. “I love you, Mamma. And despite everything, I love Papà too. I’m trying hard to forgive him for what he did, for making me lose my son. But it will take some time.”
“I understand.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “I have to get back to work. Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll try to visit more often.” Olivia smiled, kissed her mother’s cheek, then headed toward the door. For a brief second, she considered trying to talk to her father but quickly dismissed the idea, not wanting to ruin this small moment of victory.
Her gaze drifted behind the counter where the opening to the staircase was visible, and for a moment she allowed herself to imagine living upstairs again. But with a start, she realized she didn’t belong in that apartment anymore. Like her barren bedroom, stripped of everything that mattered to her, she no longer fit there. She’d changed too much to go back.
The bell jangled as a woman came in.
Olivia recognized Mrs. Ceruti, one of her neighbors. Genuine pleasure flooded her system, along with a rush of memories. Louisa Ceruti had been Olivia’s best friend through school, and this woman had once been as close as a second mother. Smiling, Olivia approached her. “Mrs. Ceruti, it’s good to see you.”
A flash of recognition registered on the woman’s face, but immediately her features froze. She lifted her chin and, without so much as a word, turned up the aisle.
Olivia sucked in a breath. A slap to the face couldn’t have hurt more. Perhaps she should let the snub go, but remnants of her old temper rose hot in her chest. How could the woman dismiss Olivia as though she
