Gaining Visibility (35 page)

Vitale now owned a car, the one he'd moved her luggage to. But he still had his Benelli, thank God. She would've been terribly disappointed if that had been gone for good. But he explained he was in constant need of a bigger vehicle to move his pieces, and he couldn't keep borrowing Adrianna's. He was making a living full time as an artist now, the change he was most proud of.

He'd asked her to move to Italy to be with him and she'd agreed. She'd asked him to come to the US and be with her while she took care of settling the changes in the business and putting her house on the market, and he'd agreed.

Lots of changes. Exciting changes.

But for now, they had a week to relax together and map out the future. She smiled, and her cheeks ached slightly. She realized she'd been smiling for hours, even in her dreams.

She snuggled back against his naked body, so warm and firm even at rest. His arm adjusted to her move, pulling her closer.

“You are awake, Julietta?”

“Yeah, the time change has my system screwed up.” She shifted around to relax her cheek against his, noting the bit of telltale soreness between her legs as she moved. While their second round of making love last evening had been slow and gentle, the first had been wild and rough with pent-up passion.

She did have something on her mind, though—something they needed to talk about and now seemed as good a time as any. They'd discussed it . . . sort of, but she had to know he understood without question. She tilted her head back a few inches, meeting his eyes in the soft light. “Vitale, we said many things in the heat of passion the past few hours.”

His mouth slid into a lazy grin. “
Sì,
Julietta.”

“You understand I'm through menopause, right? I'm unable to have any more children.”

His grin disappeared, replaced by a somber look of reflection. “I know this, Julietta. I have thought on this the much since I know you and love you.” His palm smoothed down her arm, warming her where it touched. “Is not for me to have the children if I must give you up. She make me the sad, yes. But not the sad I would feel if I could not have my Julietta. I cannot exchange the Julietta I know for the children I do not. But my work, she is my children—my creation that I give to the world that will continue the name. And I pray that Melissa, she fill our life with the children also, yes? Someday?”

He was thinking of Melissa's children as his grandchildren already? Julia thought her heart might explode with joy any minute now. “Oh, I hope so, Vitale.”

There was something else, though . . . something she needed him to understand. “And, Vitale, I can't be your penance for losing Luciana. You can't spend your life trying to fix me—can't live in fear of losing me.”

He sighed. “Adrianna, she say I do this. And so I try to not do this. But when I love, she is difficult.”

She could tell he had more to say, so she stayed quiet and listened.

“I think to feex my Julietta.”

The words caused her to stiffen, but he shook his head. “Not the body. I feex the heart. Not the feex,
riparato.
The feex,
pre-parato.
I prepare Julietta's heart to love, yes.”

His hands slid around her back as she wrapped him in a hug. In the quiet of the night, she breathed an unspoken word of thanks for this man and the circumstances that brought him into her life.

“Do you mind to leave the bed for some time? I have the something in the studio I want to show you.” The excitement in his voice caused the hair on her neck to rise in anticipation.

She located yesterday's trousers and sweater, flung in opposite directions of the room, and slipped into them while Vitale pulled on some jeans and a heavy sweatshirt. He tossed an additional sweatshirt her way. “You need. She is cold this time of the morning before the sunrise.”

The fleece-lined garment was as long on her as a coat, and just as toasty. Vitale's chuckle at the sight warmed her to the point she thought she would have to come out of it to keep from overheating. She was glad she didn't, though, when she stepped through the sliding door onto the patio and the brisk air whirled around her.

Millions of stars danced in the clear sky overhead, making her want to break out into a joyful rendition of “Sh-Boom.” She stopped for a moment to take in the beauty of it all. Millions of worlds to be explored. Millions of wishes to be granted. Millions of dreams to come true.

She had only one. That Hettie could see her and know she was happy.

A warm air stirred around her as Vitale pulled her close. She could swear a voice in the breeze whispered her wish had been granted.

Vitale's heartbeat thumped hard against her ear. “Come,” he said. “You see.” He led her to the back of the yard toward his studio. “Do you remember I tell you Mario commission the sculpture for the pool?” His eyes glittered in the starlight.

Julia nodded. “Yeah, and he mentioned yesterday you'd been working on it. Is that what you want to show me?”

“
Sì
.” The stars dancing in his eyes disappeared when he flung open the door and blinded her by flipping on the bright light.

She blinked away the blindness and then blinked in confusion. Astonishment caused her to blink one more time.

She wasn't only standing in Vitale's studio with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Another Julia lay right in front of her on a table, resting on her elbows with her legs bent, face upturned to catch the rays of the sun, bare breasts thrust out proudly.

She swallowed, too stunned to speak.

Every detail was perfect, right down to the thin lines etched across the middle of both breasts.
My God, he's even included my scars.
She pressed a shaky hand to her mouth.

“You like, yes?” Vitale asked, hope and pride mixing in his voice. “She to be perfect by the pool, I think.”

“I . . . I don't know what to say.” This was something so far out of her world of experience, she had nothing to weigh it against for like or dislike.

Vitale's arms came around her waist from behind, and he rested his chin on her head. “From the day on the beach, I dream of capturing you in the moment forever. The photograph, she is the not enough”—he paused and gestured toward the clay model—“the not enough Julietta.”

Worded in such a manner, how could she not love it?

She laughed, giddy with excitement. “I love it, Vitale. I think it's fabulous.”

He hugged her close, leaning down to kiss the smile she turned up toward him. When he straightened, she saw his eyes scan the sculpture, watched his bottom lip droop into that pout that signaled his displeasure. “One imperfection I feex, though.”

Her eyes settled on the scars across the sculpted breasts. While it was a lovely gesture for him to include them, he would surely smooth them out before the clay mold went for its casting in bronze. “The scars,” she said. “You'll take them out?”

Vitale's look suggested she'd grown a second nose. “Remove the scars? No, I work very hard to make the scars. I tell you I do not feex my Julietta, yes? She is perfect.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the head of the table, pointing at one of the ears, and shaking his head disgustedly. “The imperfection, she is the earlobe. I attach to the side of the face.” He flipped her lobe lightly with his finger. “She is not attach.”

Julia laughed, and when Vitale's eyebrows drew together in a dark frown, she laughed even harder. “She is not funny, Julietta. She is the serious mistake. I must feex.”

Julia took Vitale's face in her hands and smoothed away his frown lines with her thumbs. “
Ti amo,
Vitale.”

His mouth curved into a smile, and the heat in his look warmed her to her toes. “
Ti amo, bella mia,
” he whispered before he captured her detached earlobe between his parted lips.

Julia's head spun with happiness, with the changes the past few years had wrought in her life—the losses and gains. The loss of her breasts, the gain of new confidence. The loss of Frank, the gain of new love. The loss of Hettie, the gain of a new perspective. The loss of Camille, the gain of an opportunity for a new business venture. For every action there was a reaction, for every push a pull. The laws of nature gave balance to an ever-shifting world.

She'd wanted visibility? Well, Vitale had certainly fixed that. She smiled as her eyes shifted again to her uncanny likeness on the table beside them. He'd captured her perfectly—a lovely work of art—but only for that snapshot in time.

Julia was changing . . . would always be changing . . . a perpetual work-in-progress.

But, like Hettie, she'd finally summoned her courage and stepped through the darkness into the unknown. A world of light and beauty had been there all along, waiting for her on the other side.

And perhaps a taste of immortality as well.

Keep reading for more from Pamela Hearon,
including a behind-the-book essay
and a Reading Group Guide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a writer, I've had one question asked of me in almost every interview I've ever done:
Do you pull material from your real-life experiences?
And, of course, my answer is, “Yes.” I'm not sure it would be possible to write situations and characters who draw readers into stories if I didn't tap into my own gut reactions and instincts. Even the villains are filtered through my perceptions of what their thoughts and actions would be.

Now, I realize when that question comes around, most people are referring subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) to the more intimate scenes, and to those people I also happily reply, “Yes,” and boast that I'm making my husband a legend in his own time. He gets plenty of ribbing from his friends around the breakfast table at the restaurant where they meet every day to solve the world's problems.

To be honest, I'll tell you up front that my husband, Dick, was upset when he first read
Gaining Visibility,
terrified readers would think I'd modeled the antagonist after him, though nothing could be further from the truth. He was my rock throughout the ordeal: supportive, loving—everything a caring person should be and the exact opposite of the character I wrote.

Which brings me to the story behind the story.

In 2007, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. We live in a very small town where my husband had a very successful furniture store and for fifteen years I was
the
eighth-grade Language Arts teacher at the only middle school. Between us, we knew everybody. So when word of my diagnosis got out (did I mention how quickly news travels in a small town?), friends and neighbors immediately began calling and dropping by to offer their love, prayers, and support to see me through the next two difficult years.

One elderly gentleman who was especially close to Dick stopped by one day and during the course of his visit, he told me how, when he was a child, his mother had also been diagnosed with breast cancer. Radical mastectomy was the only option available to her at the time, and she faced the inevitable with a strength and dignity that stayed with him these many years after.

He also confided that, after his mother's surgery, his father never touched her again.

His story broke my heart and, to this day, still brings tears to my eyes. To think that this woman fought the physical and mental battle placed before her, only to be shunned at the end by the very person who had vowed to stay by her side through everything, haunted me.

His story brought pangs of guilt that I got off so easily . . . that I had so much support . . . that I had never felt so loved by so many, but especially the man I shared my life with.

I didn't write much during those two years. Other things were more important, and life always takes precedence. But as soon as I started writing again, my fingers flew across the keys with a determination to right the wrong done to this woman and all those like her.

My purpose? To let them know they are not invisible. They are not alone.

And, in the only way I know how, to give each of them the happy ending she deserves.

 

 

 

The suggested questions are included
to enhance your group's reading of
Pamela Hearon's
Gaining Visibility.