Olga Pitcairn

For Nonna Maria Rosa

Chapter 1

Pinchpenny. Frugal. He stared at the photograph in his hand. Penny was more than frugal, she was closefisted. When he was six years old, Nonna had shown him a picture of her when she was six; a fat girl. Nonna had told Mother that when Emily went to school she introduced herself as Emmy Penny. He turned the photo. Nonna's handwriting: Emily, age 33, Florence, 1970. The year he was born. His chest swelled with emotion recalling that at age ten he had been farmed out to a family in the countryside to improve his Italian. Nonna was born and raised in Florence. At home she spoke Italian.

His eyes turned to the painting on the wall. Nonna and her two daughters: Emily Pinchpenny and Rosemary Dresswell: Mother. Before the war, she had met Adam Pinchpenny, an American tourist; and pronto Emily was born. After the war, Nonna met Sam Dresswell. They had married in Florence and went to America; where Mother was born.

He scrutinized the red box on the side table. On the lid was written: I Miei Tesori Segreti. My secret treasures, indeed; he snorted. Mother had warned that the box might be a can of worms? A panic button hit him: a Pandora's Box! He wetted his lips. As he put the photo on the lid, he shifted in his chair.

Mother and Penny had been preparing dinner at Nonna's when two masked men appeared in the kitchen. Nonna was hit on the head with a frying pan, cursing in Italian as she died. Holding her, Penny was stabbed with a knife. Mother defended herself wielding a saucepan; the men had hit her legs. Melissa, their neighbor, had heard their screams through the open window. The police arrived. Mother and Penny were rushed to Montefiore hospital. Mother's legs were in a cast. Penny was in emergency but expected to pull through. Nonna had to be cremated. They wanted original birth and marriage certificates. Sighing, he peered at the box. So... his mission was to sort out the contents - this can of worms?

The phone rang. It was Mother calling from the hospital. Sobbing, she said that our Penny, she blew her nose, repeated our Penny, that she went to heaven. She whispered that the walls had ears. Write, Mother urged. Suicide she mumbled and hung up.

He clutched the receiver: his knuckles turned white, his teeth hurt, his jaw clenched. Walls had ears was the family code for: keep your mouth shut. Our Penny meant: have mercy. For sure, the can of worms was the Pandora's Box. He put the receiver back on the stand. He stood up and, with a resolute nod, took the box. It was time to know the secrets Mother feared it contained: those dark secrets.

He walked to the dining room and put the box on the table. He pulled up an armchair and sat down. He had a hunch that whatever had ears would be at the bottom. He turned the box upside down: a book tied with a red ribbon; a dark green folder labeled Real Estate, and three shiny red folders tumbled on the table. He grinned: Here we go! And he reached for the red dossiers.

SILENE. EMILY. ROSE-MARY. Nonna's birth certificate should be in the Silene cover. Finally, he would find out about her true past. Stories had been circulating in their neighborhood that she had inherited a fortune from her grandparents. Penny had told Mother that when Nonna bought the house, after he was born, that she divulged this information to Mrs. Praxagora, owner of hair salon Miraflores. Penny had said that Nonna had made a virtue of necessity. A respectable mother: Nonna was Mrs. Maria Rosa Dresswell with two daughters and a grandson. But he knew better, having listened at closed doors. He had been caught; the tongue-lashing! He started bed-wetting; more tongue-lashings. So, he had put chewing gum in the keyholes to remind himself; more tongue-lashing, in Italian of course. His chest heaved; no good looking back.

He opened the Silene folder: papers, personal notes, documents. He could read the Italian handwriting. He shook his head; rolled his eyes; wetted his lips; he grunted. Finally, he returned the contents to the folder.

Mama Mia! He leaned back in his chair. Mama Mia! The knowledge disclosed was beyond anything he could have imagined. Mother had been right, but it was more than a can of worms: it was criminal. Nonna, their holy Nonna, a seasoned corrupt conniver! Mother wanted it in writing.

He got up and went to the desk in the living room. He took a box with writing paper, an envelope and a pen, and returned to his armchair.

"Dearest Mother, I miss you very much! Please bear in mind that what I write will remain between us. Here, in a nutshell, is what so far, I learned.

Nonna was adopted when she was a few days old by a peasant couple: Guiseppe and Maria Silene. The handwritten letter by the priest, dated March 21, 1919, states that a young unmarried woman had given birth and had asked him to find a home for her baby girl. The name of the woman is not mentioned. So, we will never know Nonna's biological parents. Actually, Mother, there is no legal birth certificate! Perhaps you overheard a conversation where exactly she spent her childhood? There is a book wrapped with a red ribbon. I'll have a look tomorrow. I worry that more unethical stuff is in store. I'm holding my breath.

About Penny. There is a copy of a birth certificate with the name of the father as Adam Pinchpenny. Most likely there's more information in her dossier.

There is the original marriage certificate of your parents: Maria Rosa and Sam, dated February 20, 1949, Firenze. Enclosed in a separate envelope was a name to contact: avvocato Juan Gonzalez: Yonkers. The Cuban lawyer Penny talked about.

Mother, dearest Mother, until my next letter, keep up the spirit! Your son is sending loads of kisses!"

He peered at the ceiling; calling to mind that when he was sixteen Nonna and Mother had a talk with him. Mother had been in tears when she said that at a high school party, she was eighteen; she had been seduced. The word rape was not mentioned but he understood. Poor Mother; he swallowed, his Adam's apple yo- yoed. Nonna had held his hand when she said that for the sake of the Dresswell name they moved from Princeton to Yonkers; where he was born. They then moved to the Bronx into a spacious house and a large garden. He gripped the pen - recalling his happy youth. She had told neighbors that his father had passed away; died of cancer. Sniffing, he took a tissue and dabbed at his eyes. Nonna had once shown him a photo of herself and Sam - on their wedding day. Sam had a long, prominent square chin. He stared intently upwards; as if the ceiling had the answer to his question: How about Mother's grandparents - they didn't ask for her? Nonna had always evaded questions about her in-laws.

With a sigh he put the letter, with a note for Melissa to deliver the letter pronto, in the envelope and addressed it to their neighbor. He looked at his watch; the post office was still open. He returned to the apartment with his dinner in a paper bag: all set for a long evening enciphering Nonna's Pandora Box.

He went straight for the kitchen. He eyed the wine rack, took a bottle of Chianti, uncorked it, got a wine glass, and returned to the dining room. Leaning back in his armchair, he sipped. His eyes dwelled around the room: walls had ears. Danger lurked in that red-ribbon book. Resolutely he took the book and untied the ribbon. For a while he scrutinized the faded green cover. Then, shaking his head, he opened it - Nonna's diary! Her handwriting was still legible after all these years; starting with 1936. She must have been seventeen. He began to read... From time to time, he sighed: Mama Mia. He took notes. He shook his head. He sipped wine. He squinted at the walls. Mama Mia...

Hungry, he went to the kitchen. He returned with his dinner on a tray. As he ate, he perused his notes. Mama Mia. He looked at the clock: close to midnight. Mother was waiting for revelations. He was ready to inform her of the bare bones. She could read the chronicles of Nonna at leisure in her hospital bed upon his return.

"Dearest, dearest, dearest Mother!

I am so sorry to write you about Nonna's trickery involving us all. I hope you'll not sob your eyes out. Here, in a nutshell, the facts from the pen of your mother.

When Maria Rosa was seventeen, she went to work in Florence as a chambermaid at Favorita, a hotel frequented by foreigners. For two weeks, she and Adam were “entwined”. He gave her money for making him happy. One day she saw in his wallet a photo of a little girl; his daughter Emily. When she found out that she was “with child” she wrote him a letter. The address was in the hotel register. Adam did not reply. She named her baby - Emily. When she was two, Nonna sent Adam the girl's photo, asking for money to raise his daughter. No reply.

Nonna wrote: her heart ached that Emily's last name was officially Silene; the girl was illegitimate. She learned about the secrets of the men staying at her hotel. She took to peeping and listening and witnessed plenty of shady, hand- wringing deals. She realized that she could earn extra money using the same methods. A picture is worth more than a thousand words, she wrote. So, she got a camera. When she met Sam, she saw her ticket to America: go to Boston and confront Adam. Peeking, she saw the going-ons in his room. She took the chance of getting reported to the police and opened the door. Sam looked at her as he was sodomizing a male. Instantly, she took the picture. Mother, I recognized Sam because of his prominent chin. No mistaking. He begged her on his knees for mercy because his mother would die of shame if she saw this photo. Sam adored his mother. Nonna said she understood and suggested a solution: they would marry so Penny could meet her American father. Sam embraced her; they clinched the deal. For Nonna it was no problem that he was gay; a marriage of convenience was paradise on earth. Mother, cheeky Nonna suggested for the future - divorce!

Your mother found out that Sam had arrived in town with several diamond bracelets to exchange them for costume jewelry and trinkets for his mother's gift shop, Boutique Fantasia. She took him to a well-known street where jewelers trade their merchandise. She got a terrific deal not only for Sam but for herself as well. Mother, she got a ten percent cut on any future orders! She had plans of her own to trade trinkets.

It is hard to believe, but within six weeks your mother had managed to get the necessary documents: affidavits from priests, clerks, depositions from the authorities, you name it; and without much effort because... she always gave "sex-on-the-side" (blow-job): don't blush Mother! Your hair will stand up when you read her diary. Nonna, our holy Nonna always preaching her mantra - NO SEX OUTSIDE OF MARRIAGE - had no shame! I'm still blowing off steam. Well, Nonna and Sam took the train to Genoa and boarded a ship for New York City.

I'll call Melissa and instruct her to bring you the letters pronto at your bedside.

Mother dearest, I say goodnight, or should I say good morning? I'll have breakfast near the post office and then take a stroll in the park.

A thousand kisses from your beloved Bobo"

Nonna's house was close to the Botanical Gardens. She would often take a stroll, weather permitting. Occasionally she came home with flowers: white lilacs for Mother's Day and in summer sunflowers. She had been on excellent terms with the gardeners. Wistfully, he sighed; no good looking back.

Having posted the letter, he had breakfast on the terrace of a café; and then he walked to the park. In a secluded place, he sank on a bench. He had taken along her journal; eager to know what had happened with the small family upon arrival. With a resolute nod, he opened the memory book.

The trip had been described on one page. Cryptic notes: cabin small; Penny seasick; food okay; people uninteresting. Sam had agreed to tell his family and friends that they had met at a shop. Mentioning Hotel Favorita was taboo. She was looking forward to waving at Lady Liberty.

He turned the page.

Point Pleasant, Boutique Fantasia

March 21, 1949: My 30th birthday

He couldn't believe his eyes. Mama Mia! He pressed his lips; he had to take notes! Mama Mia! He rushed to the apartment clutching the diary...

Chapter 2

He stood at Nonna's bedroom; the door was locked. He recalled that keys were kept in the kitchen. He returned; in anticipation, wetting his lips, he turned the key. With a resolute nod he flung the door wide open. He flipped the light switch.

Nineteen years - nothing had changed.

To the left, against the opposite wall, was Nonna's shrine; a replica was at home. He walked to the altar and stood in front of her prayer stool. He reached for the switch on the wall: twinkle, twinkle little stars! He smiled. He kneeled on the stool.

A framed picture of BONIFACE, the martyred saint, stood in the center of the shelf draped with lace; on either side were porcelain vases with ceramic Madonna lilies; the oval mirror was framed with red roses.

He stared at his godfather. He had overheard Penny once saying to Mother that he wasn't her Buena-Faccia. That's what she called Boniface behind Nonna's back. Aunt Penny had made fun of him when as a toddler he couldn't pronounce Boniface; it became Bobo. In first grade, his teacher, kind Miss Goldilocks, had suggested calling him Bob. And so, he became known in the neighborhood as Bob Dresswell.

Saint Boniface, the apostle, was murdered in 754 for preaching love; by German pagans, not martyred in Italy! Nonna had said that Boniface meant auspicious, fortunate. He was an unfortunate baby, being born out of wedlock, so he needed all the luck in the world. His eyes watered. Then he noticed the round crystal dish with a gold ring. Behind the vase on the right was a small bronze: folded hands. He looked behind the vase on the left; a silver plaque. He took it; engraved was Genesis 2:24. Nonna's mantra: marriage is a sacrament. She had been guided by the Gospel of Matthew and preached to teenage girls about abstinence: NO SEX OUTSIDE OF MARRIAGE; mother's milk repertoire he called it. He wetted his lips and blew a kiss at his godfather.

He got up and, turning off the twinkling lights and the light switch at the door, left Nonna's bedroom. He turned the key, making sure it was locked. No good looking back.

The diary was on the dining table, waiting! He sat in the armchair, took a sheet of note paper and a pen, and, smiling broadly, opened the journal, ready for another journey.

Point Pleasant. Boutique Fantasia--March 21, 1949. My 30th birthday. Mama Mia, he sighed from time to time as he sipped wine. Mama Mia! Agog, he looked at the walls. Mother would be bursting to know Nonna's schemes. He took a sheet of writing paper.

"My dearest, dearest Mother,

I'll continue, for your eyes only, your mother's memoir. Her cunning makes my flesh creep. Here it goes!

So, they would be prepared, Sam had sent his parents, mother Barbie Chopard and her second husband, Solomon David Chopard, a telegram; informing them that he had married a widow, Maria Rosa, who had a little girl. Upon arrival in New York, he contacted a friend of Solomon, who arranged for a car to take them to Maison Fleury in Point Pleasant, Pennsylvania. That's where they had moved when Solomon decided to retire and set up Barbie's gift shop.

Barbie welcomed them with open arms. Nonna liked Barbie. She arranged the Italian trinkets: the candlesticks, glittering buttons, the fake bracelets and brooches on the shelves of Boutique Fantasia. Barbie was thrilled; husband clapped his approval. There were happy smiles all around. Nonna's antenna told her that Solomon David was gay.

On her birthday, Sam gave a party at Dandy-Dandy to meet seven friends. This fancy restaurant was run by a bachelor from Manhattan. They had dessert, coffee, and cordials in the lounge. A talkative, debonair New Yorker gave your mother the background of the Chopard couple. A jeweler, Solomon had acquired during the great depression, the early 1930s, a fortune in priceless gems from ladies desperate for money. He made what the chatty informer called: a kill. How did he meet Barbie? Solomon had placed an advertisement in the local newspaper for an assistant; and "Barbarina" had been the front-runner. He was fond of Sam, taking him on Sundays to the park or a museum when it rained. His colleagues nicknamed him Old Fogy when in 1932, at age 62 he married 27-year-old Barbie Dresswell. The gossipy New Yorker reeled off how Old Fogy had acquired Maison Fleury from a wealthy family from Allentown, Pennsylvania; it was their summer retreat. The owner knew Toto, the owner of restaurant Dandy-Dandy, who told Solomon that it was on the market for a song and he should buy the property. In case Solomon wanted to sell it, Toto would be happy to put his name to it.

One of the guests, a teacher living in Stockton, New Jersey, across from Point Pleasant, insisted on prepping Penny so she could enroll at the local school. Before the party broke up, Sam told them that he was taking Maria Rosa on honeymoon to Boston.

Mother, it was a heart-breaking trip. Nonna's search ended in a dead end. At the Boston address, they were told that Adam Pinchpenny had moved without leaving a forwarding address. Upon their arrival at Fleury, Penny told them that Solomon had broken his right ankle and right arm. Barbie told them that he refused to stay at a rehabilitation center, so she became his nurse. Sam hired a sturdy man to help his mother. Penny attended to the boutique: if a customer came, she'd call for Barbie.

Nonna wrote that she had to get away and be independent. When Toto came for a visit, Salvatore Mario Napoli is his full name (he had a black square: Nonna's notation for practicing gay), she pumped him for a job. Back home her family managed a hotel; she had experience in this field. Guess what, Mother! Toto knew Tom Smith, owner of Happy Memories, a B&B in Lambertville, NJ, who was on the lookout for a manager! Pronto, Nonna and Sam drove to Happy Memories, a six-bedroom B&B situated on a leafy street. Pushing 60, Tom, a widower, wanted to relax so he could meet a "sweetheart"; then retire and enjoy life. Tom showed them her room that had a private bath: she was full-time manager - a tour of the premises, and the large private garden/park with benches for canoodling. Her salary was top. They clinched the deal with a handshake. On their return home Sam was all smiles, saying he'd look after Penny. And indeed, Penny was glad she could stay at Fleury; Sam was happy to take her on weekends to Happy Memories. Imagine, Mother, three months later Solomon died choking on his tongue: a stroke! Nonna attended the funeral. She was relieved that Toto looked after Barbie and Sam would take care of Penny: they were a happy family. Nonna had endeared herself to Tom; no shame. Her own words: blowjobs give me control.

Well, Tom showed Nonna the ropes of American hospitality services; her English improved greatly. At the reception desk, he kept a camera. He'd take a snapshot of every smiling couple standing in front of Happy Memories; sending them the photo as a souvenir. Tom showed her his album: photos with dates. She underlined the word, because he said, ha-ha, in case of criminal activity; meaning sex-outside of marriage. In all innocence, ha-ha, she asked him what his preference was regarding a sweetheart: eye color, hairstyle, shapely legs, etc. Tom said that she should have lovely hands: dainty, silky soft skin, pinkish nails. So... guess what? Your mother scouted around town and found a perfect specimen in a chocolate shop. Doris's manicured hands were a man's dream, soft but strong; she was in her mid-forties and widowed. Nonna made a note to setup Doris with Tom in case she decided to leave for greener pastures.

Our Nonna celebrated New Year 1950 at Fleury. Toto and Barbie announced their engagement! Penny offered to be a bridesmaid. Sam confided that he had met a nice guy he'd like to … you know what! Nonna had to make plans for Penny. The teacher who had prepped her was willing to take her as a boarder; his wife was fond of the girl.

Hold your breath, Mother! Nonna's guardian angel arrived on her 31st birthday at Happy Memories! His name is Logan Howard, and he lives in Princeton. Marigold, his wife, died just before Christmas. He owns a 20-room hotel: La Locanda il Fiori. You guessed it... La Locanda needs a hostess! Can you imagine what's in store?

In my next letter I'll report what's in store! I need to take a walk and shall mail this epistle to dear Mother.

I miss you and hope to see you soon. Kisses from your Bobo"

He glanced at his watch. Six hours difference between Florence and Manhattan. A nod and a chuckle - Ana would be thrilled to hear his voice; her given name was Enheduana. She was of Cuban ancestry. His roommate was chosen by Nonna when she bought him the condo for his 25th birthday. On each bedroom door Nanna had "planted" a plaque bordered with honeysuckle: NO sex outside of marriage. Ana was indeed chaste; lots of girlfriends visiting her. He always made sure to lock his bedroom door; those nosey girls! He called the telephone operator and asked for a connection to be made to his New York phone at midnight; Ana should be home for dinner. He would eat at Bistro Barcarole.

Upon entering the apartment, he went straight to the dining room table. Four hours to recount Nonna's confessions. He snickered. Mother would roll her eyes reading the fairy tale of a hero rescuing a struggling girl: Maria Rosa. Nonna was an expert at yarn-spinning.

He took a sheet, and a pen; ready to tell Mother what was in store. He opened the journal and continued reading about La Locanda il Fiori.

"Dearest, dearest Mother!

Keep your eyes open because no one, yes no one, could have dreamed up Nonna's story line. It reads like a dime novel. An Irish professor, lecturing for one year at Princeton University, spent a long Valentine weekend at Happy Memories. He fell for Maria Rosa's charm in a big way, and Mother... she for him! I know you are rolling your eyes! A bachelor, Sean boarded at La Locanda; and knowing that Logan Howard was looking around for a hostess, he told the widower that the lovely Italian lady manager at Happy Memories would be a beautiful fiori for his lapel.

Mother, Nonna played the role of a distressed, divorced woman, whose dearly beloved 13-year-old daughter was in a boarding school because she had to work for a living. Her story melted his heart, and on the spot, he offered that Penny lives with them at the hotel: so, mother and daughter could be united. I can see you roll your eyes! She told Logan Howard that she had to find Tom a suitable manager so she could move to Princeton. So said so done; Nonna invited Doris to Happy Memories for happy hour. To make a long story short: Doris and Tom hit it off right away. Then she informed Sam, Barbie, and Toto that she had been offered a better job in Princeton. Penny was thrilled that she would live with her mother again. Everyone rejoiced. Nonna's good luck star: an offer on her birthday for an exciting future!

And, Mother, it's an undreamt-of, uncanny future! When Logan, they were already on first names, showed her his hotel for the first time, she thought she was in an Alice in Wonderland place. The rooms were not numbered but had flower names. When she saw Snowdrop, she told Logan that this would be a suitable room for her Penny. She had confessed, ha-ha, on the drive to Princeton, that her American father had promised marriage but... blah-blah, you know her story line. Our Circe played her cards well. Logan fell for the silver hook; you may roll your eyes, Mother!

When Logan introduced her to his hotel manager Umberto Columbia, scion of a New York family, Nonna knew on the spot to put a blank square (celibate gay) to his name. She wrote that he would play her tune. We know what that means! Letting in that, she gave him a squeeze; they were in the same situation, having to work for a living, she linked arms with Umberto. And he, without missing a beat, said to his boss that his choice was a lovely lady and that Marigold would give her nod to Maria Rosa. The threesome took the tour. Umberto was in Buttercup. Logan suggested for her Bluebell. She loved the spacious room with a view of a pavilion for romance. Umberto gave her a squeeze, saying this was the honeymoon suite. Snicker, Mother... Bluebell is near the entrance to the annex where Logan and Marigold resided! The threesome toasted "to a great success" in the bar wallpapered with forget-me-nots. Enflamed, Logan had put his arm around our femme fatale; she had put her hand on his knee! He then took her back to Happy Memories. She would let him know when she could start her "job"."

He stopped writing. Reviewing several times the notes, he decided to skip Nonna's unsavory story; and instead give Mother his version.

"Mother, dear, you know your mother. She went into action with all her heart. A week later, knowing that Tom and Doris were one flesh, Nonna called Logan and told him that she could start the week before Mother's Day. Nonna wrote that she and Sam parted in good faith. She took Toto aside and told him that she would start her job as a "divorcee". Toto "understood". Snicker three times! And she told Penny to remember not to mention Sam's name. They were divorced; the condition for her to get that magic job. Her room was called Snowdrop; Penny was in heaven."

He looked at his watch. One hour to go. He went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took the bottle of bubbles he kept for a special occasion. With a deep sigh, letting off steam, he poured some in Penny's special Prosecco glass.

When the phone rang, he was floating on cloud four.

"How are you managing, Ana dear?" he blurted out all smiles.

Laughter traveled through the line. "Bob, you'll never guess what I heard from Crisantemi, the girl with the black pigtail."

"Crissy-busy-body?" He hiccupped. "What's up, Ana?"

"Crissy told me... that Mrs. Praxagora visited your mother, having heard that" she breathed noisily "Nonna had died a violent death."

"Good grief, Ana. I'm here to get the documents so we can cremate her." He took a swig of spumanti.

Ana giggled softly. "Bob, I called my pal Tippie Praxagora. She told me that Lucrezia, who's her stepmother, went, hold your breath, to tell you mother that... Nonna had been adopted!"

He swallowed; his Adam's apple yo-yoed. "How did Lucrezia know, Ana! I definitely did not." He took a swig of spumanti. "It was a real revelation, believe me!"

"Nonna has her hair done at Miraflores. Well, Lucrezia also owns Hades Communications. Tippie runs the business." Ana giggled. "Nonna once told me that Tippie has hair on her teeth, too much testosterone." Ana giggled more. "Socrates' wife Xanthippe was her fairy godmother."

"Do you know of anything else" he chuckled "Lucrezia told Mother?"

"Do you want me..." Ana hesitated, "visit your mother?"

"Better not. She'll be embarrassed." He peered at the diary. "But you can do me a favor, Ana. Find out from Tippie... if her stepmother has dirt, I mean juicy morsels, on my aunt Penny."

"I'll do my best, Bob." Ana blew a kiss.

"I'll call soon, Ana!" He sent her a smacker... as he eyed Penny's dossier.

He yawned... too late to finish the letter...

He sipped coffee. Hair salon. Hades Communications. He glanced at his unfinished letter to Mother. A smile hovered in his eyes; then he mouthed Eureka! The Greek underworld had been transformed into a modern Hades: an underground detective agency!

A resolute nod and mouthing here we go; he opened Penny's dossier.

Three files: 1937, 1958, 1980.

Penny also had to be cremated; of prime importance was her original birth certificate. He opened file 1937.

First page. Is DESTINY written in the stars? His Adam's apple jumped. He perused the pages. The certificate was last.

His hands shook while reading - translated, Silene stood for Tears of Christ. A list of Nonna's rules for survival: live by your wits; be cunning like a fox; be slippery as an eel; throw dust into eyes. Don't get "caught" was underlined. There were pages telling Penny about convent life. His eyes watered. Mother had to know. He would give her a brief summary. She could read the details after Penny's funeral. Fax the birth certificate? No way!

He took a sheet of paper; his hand holding the pen hovered. How to start...

"Dearest, my dearest Mother,

You must know that Philomena the wonderworker is patron saint of babies and toddlers. I enclose Penny's original birth certificate; born in this convent! It was a shock to read that I was named after Sister Boniface the midwife, and not after martyred Saint Boniface. Nonna promised on oath to the midwife to name her next baby - Boniface."

His stomach churned; he belched. How could Nonna have done this to him... his eyes watered.

He glared at Rose-Mary's dossier. Would the explanation be there? He re- read the page with the most revolting, lewd "stuff"; Mother had to read this herself.

"Mother dear, within the convent is a large courtyard. In the center is a statue of Saint Philomena. And at the foot of this wonderworker are, nestled in a ceramic basket, bronze hands: the healing hands of saint Priapus. Mother dear, I'll rush to the post office because you need this birth certificate. Much love as always. I miss you! your Bobo"

With a deep sigh he collected the dossier pages and put them back in the file. He eyed the 1958 file. Should he? A resolute nod and he decided to read this juicy year after he had mailed the letter; and got a take-out lunch so he could devote the entire afternoon to being a "Hades".

Chapter 3

Hades-Bob sat in his armchair in the dining room. He pulled up dossier Emily: Files: 1937; 1958; 1980.

He took 1958. Slick Nonna had hoodwinked many of their mutual friends. How many underhand dealings involving Penny... would be revealed? In 1958, Penny was 21. Mother was 7. He recalled having been told that they were living in Princeton. Nonna had opened a gift shop for ladies and gentlemen: Boutique Pinchpenny and Dresswell.

Penny Silene had become Penny Pinchpenny! A smile lit up his face. Juan Gonzalez must have "fixed the issue". He wetted his lips and now animated opened the file: 7 pages. The seventh was a declaration signed by Adam Pinchpenny! No kidding, he breathed. Written on his official stationery, Adam acknowledged Emily Silene as his biological daughter because... she had inherited the famous Pinchpenny heirloom eyes! Attached was a note, saying that the "title" to Penny's boutique for kids was to be "shared" by mother and daughter until Adam's demise. This was the most important document: to establish Penny's "roots". Hang on to this one, he breathed.

He started reading page 1. Mama Mia! His eyes bulged. Mama, Mama Mia! Finally, he leaned back. He reached for his wine glass. He eyed the green folder labeled Real Estate. He chewed his lips, frowning. But... he had to know!

He took the folder. There were official-looking documents, each in plastic files and labeled; Nonna had always been meticulous. He read them all. Mama Mia. Nonna was a very rich woman! She had invested in small real estate transactions so she could get easy cash when needed. He was puzzled that the Florence apartment was to be inherited by a man named Antonio Manzana; notation: see Juan Gonzalez.

Engrossed, he found out that Tippie's sister Clea - Thermistoclea wanted to be called Clea because nasty neighborhood boys were calling her thermos - was Lucy's stepdaughter. Lucy? Lucrezia, of course! He'd tell Ana this tidbit. Nonna's mantra: Lucy this, Lucy that. Well, Thermis/Clea cooked the books; she was super at counting and discounting in her head; didn't need a calculator. Clea was born that way; Lucy had told Nonna. He chuckled and returned the documents to the Real Estate folder. He eyed the 1958 pages still on the table. He glanced at his watch. Lunch time!

He sat in his chair pen in hand ready to start a review on Penny. Real estate: inheritance issues; Juan. He snickered; Mother will suck in her breath and roll her eyes when she reads this letter.

"Mother dear, dearest Mother,

Hold your breath... because Penny's story is a scoop! But maybe you have an inkling of what is coming? One day in 1958 at the boutique in Princeton, a customer asked if Penny was related to Adam Pinchpenny, a prominent New York City lawyer. Nonna said he could be a distant relative. She contacted Juan; he provided the address.

You may guess once, Mother... Your mother and Penny took a pleasure trip to Manhattan. The residence was in a fancy location: with concierge service, of course. Now, imagine this: according to Nonna it was like a fairy tale. The concierge asked Penny before she had a chance to introduce herself... he waved his hands like a magic wand, if she was Emily's cousin: Those magic eyes, he said. Penny giggled and took from her purse her driver's license, saying that her name was also Emily. She showed him her license. He shook his head, laughing, and blinking in disbelief. Still laughing, he said that his Miss Emily was away for a few days... but her father was at home. Without missing a beat, Nonna said that Adam was their second cousin and she was sure Adam would like to meet them. With a huge smile on his face, the concierge told them to take the elevator to the 7th floor: door A. Winking, he said that one more Emily in the family should be Mr. Pinchpenny's surprise. Smiling at Nonna, he said he wouldn't announce the cousins on the intercom.

Mother, I'll ask Melissa to smuggle Amaretto to your room; have a sip because what's coming now is spicy: a drama in the old Greek style.

They stood at door A, when Nonna told Penny to open her eyes wide so he could see the magic. Well, all of our lives we have seen Penny's pale gray eyes, nothing special really. Nonna wrote that she knew since she was a year old that Penny' eyes had sapphire-blue "snowflakes" on the outer rim. Giggling, Penny rang the doorbell. When Adam stood at the open-door, Penny said: Papa, I'm Emily. Nonna wrote that his eyes became like saucers and instantly she saw "the magic in his eyes". Papa stood there like the biblical pillar of salt, frozen in time. Chuckle, chuckle because Nonna gave Penny a push and she, struggling to keep her balance, put her arms around him. Nonna entered, saying: You remember Maria Rosa, Adam? And without much ado she shut the front door. Adam was speechless; his eyes were focused on your mother. And then, Mother, I shrieked with laughter when I read Nonna's words. Because once Papa had disentangled himself from 'Emily', he said: You want money? And your mother replied: That's music to my ears, Adam. Now, Mother, what comes next is unbelievable. Make yourself comfy and sip Amaretto.

Nonna wrote that Adam took Penny/Emily by the hand and walked into the living room; she followed all smiles thinking of the pile of money she and Penny would be collecting. He went to a door, saying: Let's make it short. And they entered his study.

They sat on chairs facing Adam behind his desk. Let's not haggle, your mother said. She took Penny's hand; Emily nodded and said that Papa owed her mother child support for 21 years: from 1937 until 1958. Then Nonna said, not missing a beat, that this was just a starter. Adam had folded his hands as he slouched in his armchair. What you mean by not haggling, he said softly. Nonna said: We want not only money. We need a document saying that you acknowledge Emily as your daughter. Then Emily said that she wanted to start a business selling gifts for kids. He looked up and blurted out that there was a third Emily. And that her mother was milking him. His hands grasped the armchair. Be prepared, Mother, for a real drama when he told them the following story.

Adam had received Nonna's letter with the news that he had a daughter; and the second letter with the photo. He destroyed the letters but kept the photo. One day in 1950, he had been involved in a car accident and was hospitalized, his wife, Dolores, took his attaché case home. She looked in his wallet and found, behind a credit card, a photo: Emily, 1939. She had said nothing but consulted a private detective. And lo and behold, this dick had found out that Adam had sired another illegitimate daughter by the name of Eve... and that Eve's mother had been milking her husband. Dolores confronted Adam, who readily admitted this fact; no denying that little Eve had the magic eyes. Dolores divorced him. Their Emily, age 17, then lived with Dolores in Miami, her hometown. But when Emily turned 21, she wanted to stay with her father in Manhattan. Adam took a framed photo from the desk and gave it to Emily, saying this was her half-sister. And nodding at Nonna, he said: Your daughter has the Pinchpenny heirloom eyes. Mother, promise me not to choke laughing... elbowing Penny, your mother said: What deal the milkmaid got?

Adam stared at her and then said with a smirk on his face, according to Nonna, that he could not trust the milkmaid with a large sum of money that she would most likely spend gambling. He snickered, Nonna wrote, when he said: For Eve, I set up a trust fund. Every month enough milk will flow to feed my little lamb. Your mother laughed, and elbowed "half-sister Emily". She said that this deal was music to their ears. Penny handed the photo to her Papa as she said: How about my gift shop? I need cash. Mother dear, you must read this episode for yourself and the details because Nonna's Italian is very verbal; and the haggling!

Dearest Mother, to make a long story short: on Adam's official stationary he acknowledges Emily as his biological daughter. Attached to this document is a note, specifying the details regarding the gift shop. Most importantly, Mother, Emily is now respectable. Her roots have been established. She can settle down and make an honest living. All is well, that ends well.

I'll mail this letter, then dinner at my bistro, and afterwards I'll continue reading Nonna's diary. Her "job" (how many blow-ones?) at hotel La Locanda should be most interesting. I can't wait! A big hug, dearest Mother, and kisses from your Bobo”

He put the pages back in the 1958 file and then to dossier Emily. File 1980 can wait for later he breathed.

When he entered the apartment, he went straight for the kitchen. He put the paper bag with two dessert cannoli on the table, and the spumanti bottle in the refrigerator.

All smiles, rubbing his hands, he hurried to the dining room and hit the light switch. Nonna's diary was open, inviting him to quench his curiosity. What happened to Nonna's love affair with the Irish professor? As he pulled out his chair and sat, he scanned the page. Ah! The job: the week before Mother's Day. Teary- eyed, Penny said goodbye to Barbie and Sam. Nonna reminded them not to contact her. Then Toto took them, including three suitcases, to Princeton.

He folded his hands and squinted at the chandelier. Would it be a dime novel story or unfold into a more serious one? He could not imagine his Nonna in love. She was how old, thirty-one? No sex outside of marriage? She was legally still married to Sam... Mother would roll her eyes and snicker. He smiled as he continued reading Nonna's journal. Mama Mia. He put his hand over his mouth. He wiped his brows. Mama, Mama Mia! He leaned back in his chair, breathing hard. Mother, his poor Mother. How to tell her...

He went to the kitchen and opened the bottle of spumanti. He filled Penny's Prosecco glass to the brim and returned to his chair. He sipped, eyeing the diary, still upset about Nonna's behavior; he could not tell Mother in plain words what he had read. She could read this at leisure in her hospital bed.

"Dearest, dearest Mother, prepare yourself for an eerie story; a double Amaretto is on order!"

They say manuscripts get stolen. I'm not finishing this story --- you do.

AND GOOD LUCK