Floriana lay in bed, hiding her face beneath the sheet. As much as she had tried to convince herself that she didn’t care whether or not she went to the party, she still wanted it all to be over and her disappointment to be gone. Her father slept on in the room next door, having drunk too much the previous night. She could smell the alcohol through the wall.
He was completely useless now, so crippled by his addiction that even the count had stopped employing him. If it wasn’t for Aunt Zita and the money she reluctantly gave them from time to time, they would be forced to beg for help. Floriana managed to work here and there, helping in the kitchens of the restaurants on Piazza Laconda after school. Everyone knew her situation and was eager to help. Only her father, Elio, seemed not to want to help at all and took her money without a word of thanks, as if it were his due.
But Floriana knew she couldn’t stay in bed all day. That was defeatist, and one thing she wasn’t was defeatist. She washed and dressed, slipping into a simple cotton dress and tying her hair back with a band. Signora Bruno was outside in the courtyard, arguing with one of the other residents about the overwatering of his geraniums. When she saw Floriana’s dejected expression, she waved him away and shuffled over to meet her.
“What’s that face for?”
“It’s the party tonight,” Floriana said, slowly descending the staircase. She didn’t need to say more, Signora Bruno had been there to comfort her after the countess had told her she wasn’t invited.
The old woman put a sturdy hand in the small of her back and gave it a firm rub; everything ached nowadays. “Curse the lot of them,” she scowled. “You’re too good for them.”
“They don’t think so.”
“They don’t know.”
“I wonder if Dante even remembers me.”
“Of course he does, amore. You’re a young lady now, and so pretty he won’t believe his eyes when he sees you.”
“I love him more each day,” she said, and her gloom lifted at the thought of his smile and the tender way he looked at her. “One day, I’m going to marry him and have a big party.” She grinned mischievously. “I’ll invite the countess, though.”
“Now, why would you do that?”
“To see her face and watch her squirm as I walk down that beautiful stone staircase in a flowing white dress.”
“You’d better get on with it, then, for I want to be there at the bottom to watch you.”
“Of course you’ll be there, Signora Bruno. It wouldn’t be a party without you.”
Signora Bruno chuckled. “Don’t leave it too long, I’m wearing thin.”
“Not thin, signora,” Floriana teased.
“Well, not thin, no—but I’m wearing out.”
“I won’t tell Elio, though.”
“Wouldn’t he give you away?”
She looked at Signora Bruno solemnly. “I have to belong to him first for him to give me away.”
“Oh, Floriana.”
“I don’t belong to anyone but Dante.”
“I hope he’s deserving of you.”
“We deserve each other, Signora Bruno.”
“So, what are you going to do today?”
“I’m going to pretend it’s any other day. I’m going to go to Mass and light my candle, just in case Jesus has decided to tune in. Then I’m going to spend the day with Aunt Zita at the laundry.”
“Really, that ludicrous woman. She’s only ever done the minimum for you. She should be ashamed of herself.” Signora Bruno had no patience for Zita.
“The busier I am, the faster the day will go.”
“You’re not going to spy on that wall, then?”
“No.”
“Or go and see the little princess?”
“Costanza? No. I couldn’t bear to watch her in those beautiful diamonds.”
The day passed slowly. Floriana knew that Dante must be home because Good-Night did not come to find her. She missed his eager face and gentle presence, but she was pleased he was with his master and excited at the thought that soon she would be with him, too. She spent the day with Aunt Zita, who knew nothing of the party or her niece’s love for Dante, and twittered on about the hopeless Elio and his lack of responsibility. Then Floriana wandered down to the beach to watch the sunset.
* * *
Costanza dressed alone in her bedroom. Graziella had let out her frock and it now fitted her perfectly. She still looked fat, but her breasts distracted from her convex waist and wide hips. Her mother had lent her a diamond necklace with matching bracelet and earrings worthy of royalty. She felt every inch a princess. However, alone in her room her thrill was dampened by the thought of Floriana. It would have been much more fun dressing together, sharing makeup and jewelry.