There was a round of applause, and Dante stepped out of the villa to embrace his father. Beppe patted him heartily, then kissed him on both cheeks. “My son!” he bellowed, and the two men stood together, with their arms around each other, waving at their audience.
Floriana wandered down the beach, shoes in hand, feet in the water. She imagined Costanza at the party and gave in to a wave of resentment. How unfair that she was excluded just because she didn’t have rich parents, or a grand title. Why couldn’t a person be judged on what was on the inside? Why did it matter so much where she came from? Weren’t they all God’s children, equal in His eyes? Didn’t she have just as much right to live and love as anyone? She watched the sun melt into the sea and turn it orange. The beauty was overwhelming and she stood in awe, watching the light fade to make way for the first star. Beneath so vast a sky she felt very small, and yet, weren’t they all small when viewed from God’s great height? Titles and wealth seemed so unimportant compared with the natural riches of God’s creation. What mattered was the heart, for surely that was the only thing she’d take with her when she died.
As the day evaporated she felt her determination mount. It was up to her to shape her own destiny, rather than allowing others to decide what shape it should be. With her resolve renewed, she put on her sandals and strode back up the beach.
Dante made his way through the crowd of guests, shaking hands with the men, standing firm as they patted him robustly on the back, and bending down to kiss the women. He enchanted them with his natural charm and wit. He had grown into a strikingly handsome young man. With his shoulders back, his head held high, his pale gaze clear and steady, he looked every inch a crown prince. Yet, there was no trace of arrogance in his expression. A sardonic amusement, perhaps, in the curl of his lips, as if he thought the whole event slightly farcical, but he was too polite and aware of the trouble his mother had taken to let it show.
Five years in America had taught him a great deal about the world, but also about himself. He was smart, quick to learn, and made friends easily. Girls fancied him—but he found to his cost that as simple as it was to get attached, getting unattached was a painful and complex operation. So, he had enjoyed countless flings where there was no danger of commitment. There had been enough women on campus who simply wanted to bed him, so he’d taken his pleasure, then moved on to the next.
He’d hung out with a group of boys who enjoyed sport like he did, learning American football and baseball, as well as excelling on the tennis and squash courts. He’d relished the novelty of living in another country. However, there was a part of him that had always been dissatisfied. An anxiety, like homesickness, that caught him when he was most vulnerable, like on waking in the morning, or sometimes when he was alone and pensive. As much as he tried, he couldn’t identify it. He knew for certain it had nothing to do with his parents, and he didn’t miss his home. But when his mind wandered to La Magdalena, he had suffered an aching sense of loss. Now he was there, he wondered whether that feeling would creep over him again, or whether his soul was finally satisfied.
Dinner was served beneath the canopy of stars. Dante sat beside two young women who flirted and twittered like a pair of pretty budgerigars. The countess noticed that Costanza was at a table at the other end of the room from Dante, with a group of youngsters her own age. She resolved to draw her to his attention after dinner. Her placement, however, pleased her very much, for she was on the next-door table to Beppe, with his cousin on one side and a very close family friend on the other. She sipped her wine and savored the moment, feeling a warm sense of belonging.
After dinner Beppe gave a long and pompous speech, another sign of his lack of respectability, the countess thought smugly. Not that it mattered. The guests laughed at his jokes and clapped loudly when he had finished. Wealth glossed over his flaws as surely as her mother-in-law’s diamonds glossed over the Aldorisios’. Glasses were raised, toasts were given, Dante stood up and gave a witty, self-deprecating speech, which made everyone love him more. The girls secretly hoped to win him, the mothers planned their strategies like colonels.
Costanza thought of Floriana and her impossible dream. If she could see him now, she would realize how ridiculous she was to harbor hopes of capturing his heart. A man like Dante would never notice a local girl like her.
The countess watched the other mothers of young daughters with a growing sense of competitiveness. There were some extremely lovely girls in her midst, slimmer and more beautiful than Costanza. She would have to assert more control over her diet if there was to be any hope of fulfilling her dream. As soon as the opportunity arose, the countess took Costanza by the hand and almost dragged her to the other end of the garden, where Dante was talking to a small group of attractive young people. He recognized Costanza immediately and broke away from his friends to greet her.