Chapter 4

A few weeks later, Laura was again present at Cavalli's. Roberto and Eva had sent her an invitation for the celebration of New Year's Eve with them.

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A small group of people was savoring their meal, enjoying a cup of espresso or cappuccino at the large colonial table in the kitchen. It was a moment like many before, and it indicated her godfather's ways. Instead of what most people would have thought considering his wealth, he was quite down-to-earth. Among the group were several people of the staff and everybody was talking with each other. Laura was having a conversation with the man who had been front guard at Roberto's birthday. He had been an employee for some years now and Laura was well acquainted with him, as with other guards, housekeepers and staff.

In a few minutes, the President would read his message of greetings to the Italians. They turned their chairs towards the television. Conversations simmered slowly away. Then President Gronchi appeared on screen. Eva turned up the volume and all listened to the man's speech. A short applause for his kind words afterwards. They rose and walked over to the living room, Roberto taking Laura by the arm.

"Let's talk for a while, Laura. There's plenty of time before the first guests arrive. How are you doing?"

Laura sighed.

"It's difficult playing the mourning widow when you're not mourning, but full of life and joy."

"So you told me," Roberto said and looked at the merry widow and waited.

Without really thinking about it, Laura raised her arms somewhat and turned her palms up, then lowered her arms again. A sigh escaped her.

"I'm still the widow Pazzi to all of them. But I don't feel a widow, because I don't feel a Pazzi. Not anymore."

They sat down on a large sofa.

"The last months with Rinaldo were terrible. But I don't mean his degradation or how people treated us. It was Rinaldo himself. He wasn't the man I married anymore. It wasn't his downfall that caused it, I'm sure of that."

"You know, he used to be so kind to me. We were like young children when things started between us. It never felt to me that Rinaldo was much older. We spent so much time with each other, and we shared our thoughts. Maybe the Mostro case was asking a lot of him, but he made me feel I was the first thing on his mind when he woke up, and I guess I usually was."

Laura's brown eyes clouded with wistfulness.

"Everything was great, and fortune smiled upon us when Rinaldo caught Tocca. We had a perfect time. He received money to study in America and took me with him. He bought me all kinds of gifts. The silly man. Bought me white sneakers and took me for a walk down the shoreline. I ran away, teasing him so he would chase me."

A blush appeared on her face. She shook her head once to focus.

"The sneakers were ruined in a day, but he did not mind. He did mind being called back to Italy for the review of Tocca's conviction. And it was terrible to see him wither as time went by. But that was not the moment he changed. He still confided in me, then. It was some time later that it started. I could not think of any reason for this change in him. He just closed up to me. It took me some time to think of a good reason why he would do that. And it took me time to accept the thought that he was seeing another woman."

"It was the only thing possible. He shared next to nothing. And he was away more often than needed, and not for the Questura. I know that for sure, I called his office a few times and was told it was his day off. I could almost hear them laugh. It was terrible."

Roberto listened intensively and nodded.

"I was sure he was going to leave me for that other woman. I think I tried to regain his attention. He always used to buy me presents, thinking that was the way to my heart. Well, who doesn't like presents and having plenty of attention? But that's not all I wanted from him."

"So I used his gifts. He had started giving them more frequently. I took that as a sign I was right, he wanted to avoid arousing suspicion with them. I tried to get his attention with them. I wore the clothes he gave me. I used the perfume he had given me. We went to the theater. But it didn't work. Sure, he sat next to me, but he was not with me. He was distracted and nervous. I thought the other woman was around, but I could not see one following him or us with her eyes. Rinaldo was already dead to me, even before he was killed."

Roberto took her hands into his and patted them softly.

"Now, with Rinaldo dead and buried, I am free, but I'm the widow Pazzi, not Laura Bugiardini."

Roberto remained silent for a while, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to help her. She needed to work things out for herself.

It had been a relief sharing the true parts of the story with her godfather, but Laura hated herself for the lies she had told him. Well, Rinaldo's letter and corruption was something she could not share with him, not now at least.

"You know, Laura, I am so sorry for you. I wish I could really help you."

Their eyes met briefly. Laura saw his sympathy in them.

"But for this moment, there's nothing I can do but wish you'll have a pleasant evening. Forget your past for the remains of the day, focus on the future. No better moment for that than New Year's Eve, right?"

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Yes," smiled Laura. "You're right. I'll do my best to have a nice evening."

"That's my girl."

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More people had gathered at Cavalli's house to celebrate. Not as many as with his birthday, this evening was strictly for fun. Only friends had been invited, no business this night. It was a gathering of long-time friends, dear colleagues, befriended actors and such. Some people were celebrating their umpteenth Eve here, some were here for the first time. All were having a good time.

Laura was truly having a nice evening also, as she had promised Roberto. With less people present, conversations were really enjoyable. She had talked with Eva for some time, who made her laugh a lot with all the funny anecdotes she told. She seemed to have a memory for anything droll.

After some time, as midnight was nearing but still too far away to get together, Laura decided to walk about the house. She looked at the various objets d'art she encountered, sometimes admiring the masterpieces, sometimes thinking they were a waste of money. She wouldn't admit that last thought to her godfather, of course. It was mainly in the area of sculpture that some pieces were not to her liking. She preferred paintings. Even if it was just paint on canvas, she could almost always recognize the deeper layer of meaning the artist had worked into the work, sometimes she could only sense it and hoped she would be able to discern it sometime in the future.

A collection of photographs was displayed on one wall. All were black and white, Laura guessed they were at least fifty years old. A bizarre portrait titled 'Marquise Casati' almost scared her, the woman had such pronounced black outlines around her eyes, and a dead gaze. But another picture really took hold of her attention. A woman, resting on her one arm, holding a wooden mask near her face, eyes shut. The contrast between light and dark, or rather between black and white, was very intense. The black hairs against the almost white face, the dark mask with the bare shoulder and hand.

Suddenly she noticed someone was standing behind her. She could feel it. She turned and saw a woman, some actress whose name she could not recall right away, looking over her shoulder at the picture she had been staring at. Laura felt the gentle warmth of the actress' breath on her skin.

"It is as if she's going to open her eyes and stare at us, isn't it?" she heard the woman almost whisper behind her.

Laura nodded over her shoulder.

"I imagine she would see us, smile and rise slowly. Wouldn't that be a sight?" she continued.

Laura looked at the bare shoulder and hand in the picture. She knew exactly what the actress meant to say; it was a sensuous picture.

Laura turned around and had to take a slight step back to see more than just her face. The warmth she had felt on her back with this woman directly behind her was replaced by the cold expression of the wall. She could feel the goose bumps rising on her back.

"I'm Callista," said the woman.

"I'm Laura," she answered, smiling from confusion.

Callista simply looked at Laura for a moment and did not speak. She was appraising her. Yet, it did not make Laura feel ill at ease. She was familiar with people staring at her. But the intensity with which she was being watched was unfamiliar, coming from a woman.

Callista put her hand on Laura's upper arm and gently directed Laura a bit to the end of the room, to a more private place. She let go of her arm but remained close by.

"You have such a lovely smile."

Laura looked down, embarrassed.

"Really, you do. Come on, don't be shy and look at me."

Callista put her index finger under Laura's chin and made her look up again.

"Not many people have said that to me."

"I don't believe that," she said reproachful but also dainty. "And I think they should have. But now it's me saying it."

Slowly, she moved her fingers up to Laura's mouth. Once there, she softly stroked her lips.

Laura's stomach was feeling like jelly pudding. She had always been told this was wrong, but it felt really good. She noticed every fraction of an inch the fingers moved, every breath Callista was taking. She saw her shoulders rising with every breath she took. And she noticed her own breathing was as prominent as Callista's.

Callista let go of her lips, her hand moved down, past Laura's chin, past her neck. It touched the fringe of Laura's blouse, and remained there, moving up and down with Laura's breath.

"Dieci! Nove! Otto!" they heard from somewhere else in the house.

"It's almost midnight," Laura started.

"Sette! Sei! Cinque!"

"I know," Callista said softly, not moving a bit.

"Quattro! Tre!"

Laura looked at Callista.

"Due! Uno!"

"Buon anno," Callisto whispered, and kissed Laura.

* Bugiardini means 'Little liars'.

* Photos by Man Ray.

* Callista means 'Most beautiful' and is a character in Greek Mythology...