The Long Lost Café

She had been wanting to go on this trip for years, and now here she was - finally. The weight of her backpack pulled against her shoulders - her idea of packing light wasn’t exactly doing her small frame any favours, but her need to be prepared often outweighed her sensibility.

Italy was as lovely as she imagined, colourful buildings embedded within mountains. The air seemed to have a warmth about it, and carried the smell of the sea. She started off down the street where the driver of a Vespa had dropped her off. She’d reluctantly dismounted the tiny machine when she was confident she knew where to go. She was looking for The Bellini House, or Casa Bellini as it said online. An ideal location for lovers,” was the banner above the picture of a beautiful bed and breakfast. She loved herself, so that should count, right?

She snickered to herself at the thought of the B and B owner opening the door to her alone, no lover in tow. Her adoptive mother had always called her, “cheeky and funny.” She liked it, being called cheeky, and the thought of her mom laughing at her jokes. She loved her adoptive family. Which is why when she’d received a letter from Italy in college, she didn’t open it. In fact, she’d thrown it in the fireplace without a second thought. She had always known that her biological mother was from Italy, but she had never felt the need to reach out. As the years passed by she’d only thought of the moment a handful of times. She had only recently been obsessing about it because her adoptive mother had died. She suddenly felt herself with an intense desire to know where she came from, more than just geographically

It was a devastating blow to all of them, her mothers passing. Her dad hadn’t been able to bring himself to go through her things, so naturally she’d volunteered. She let her sensibility lead the way, filing things away where she thought they should go, packing things neatly that she wanted to keep. It was then that she’d stumbled across her mother’s journal - a small black book, with a moleskine binding. Her mother carried it everywhere, jotting down random thoughts, little doodles and poems. She’d lost herself in reading it, when she noticed on the very back page an Italian address and her name beneath it and the inscription, “Fly my Bird.”

And fly she had. After researching the address incessantly online first - of course. The mysterious part about it, was that the address was that of a tiny vacant café. She was expecting...well, she wasn’t sure? Her biological mother’s home, maybe? A bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She couldn’t decide if she was suddenly sweating because of the hot Italian sun, or if her nerves were getting the better of her. She really hadn’t thought this through. Her plan to get on a plane and fly across the ocean, to an address in the back of a book lacked any kind of common sense. What if her biological mom didn’t want to see her? Her thoughts began to swirl inside her head like a tornado of fire, burning any speck of positivity in its path. She could feel her heart quickening and the inability to breathe. This was a mistake! What was she doing?! She had been walking for so long that she was sure she was lost now anyway. When she turned in retreat, she swung around so hastily, that she fell over. She let out a sharp gasp as she hit the dusty street landing flat on her back. The sun shone down on her like a spotlight. She squinted, attempting to right herself, slid her arms from her pack and now in a sitting position, was facing the B and B she’d been searching for - Casa Bellini.

She stood up slowly. In front of her was a white stone building the shape of an upside down pear. The roof was covered as though it were wearing a hat fashioned entirely of beautifully lush green vines. She couldn’t wait to get inside. She meandered up the smooth white stone steps. She approached the door, with her arm outstretched ready to knock, when it opened suddenly.

“Ciao! Bella, Caterina! I am Enzo!” A man her father’s age stepped out of the picturesque home. He stood tall and his smile was a brilliant white. He had olive skin as smooth as silk and light brown eyes, almost golden in colour.

“Ciao!” She smiled at him warmly. He reminded her of someone she knew, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She couldn’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. He scooped her pack off the sidewalk with ease, and waved for her to come inside. Before she could say anything further, he was speaking again.

“How was your trip? Go, sit down. I will get you a drink.” He motioned her into a room before heading in the opposite direction. She stepped lightly across the floor. She had abandoned her sandals at the front entrance, and was grateful for it as she felt the cool slate beneath her feet. Caterina could hear Enzo talking on the phone, and the slight clinking of glasses in the distance. She moved around the large room inspecting the beautiful paintings that decorated the space. She could hear his voice was elevated with excitement . He was speaking in Italian of course, the only word she understood was ‘sorella,’ - sister. The paintings and photos seemed to showcase local restaurants and vineyards. She thought it a clever way to promote businesses, as she now felt that she needed to see each venue in their entirety before her trip was complete.

Enzo re-entered the room with what appeared to be two tall slender glasses of prosecco. He looked at her with a smile, handed her the drink, with his own in the air and said, “Salute!” The bubbles of the liquid danced against the inside of the glass and tickled her nose as she took a sip.

“Tell me. What brings you to Lipari, Caterina.”

“I’ve always wanted to see Italy. Family background and all.” Caterina’s voice trailed slightly. She spoke over top of her drink, her lips still partially on the glass.

“Si, si. You must let me be your guide! I will show you some of Lipari's finest places, huh?” His eyes danced with the question.

“That would be nice if it’s not too much trouble? Thank you, Enzo.” Embarrassingly, she let out a small yawn. The travelling was catching up with her, or it was the alcohol, or a combination of the two. Enzo let out a small chuckle before saying,

“But I am being rude! Let me show you to your room!” Enzo shot up from the oversized wicker chair that he had settled in as they spoke.

“Please. I’d like to change and use the shower if I may?” she asked.

She smelled horribly. She knew it to be true, because it took little to no effort to catch a whiff of her own aromatic breeze.

“Si, yes of course!”

Caterina tipped back the remaining liquid, and quickly stood to place the empty glass in Enzo’s outstretched hand. It was then that she noticed a birthmark on the inside of his wrist shaped like the sun. She drew in a quick breath and her heart began to race. She felt her world begin to spin and dropped like a sack of flour.

“Caterina! Can you hear me?! Caterina?!” Enzo’s voice echoed with worry, bringing her to consciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open and she brought her hands to her sides attempting to get up. She was stopped abruptly by Enzo who was now looking down over top of her. His face was a mixture of surprise and concern.

“Easy.” He put his arm around her back and guided her to a sitting position.

“I’m sorry!” She said in a panicked groggy voice that was part tremble, part sob. It just couldn’t be.

She managed on wobbly legs to make it to the bathroom, after a glass of water and several reassurances to Enzo that she was merely fatigued from travel, but completely fine. She stood in front of the sink with the hot water on high. She glanced into the foggy mirror before wiping it clear. Her eyes, a pale emerald green, brimmed with salty tears. She ran her fingers through her curly dark hair, sweeping away the tiny strands from her face. How? Of all the bed and breakfasts she could have chosen? This couldn’t be happening. After a long shaky breath, Caterina ran her hands down the front of her cotton shirt, smoothing the material in a rhythmic motion to calm her nerves. Biting her lip, she turned slowly, steadying herself against the sink, she slid her shirt down baring her shoulder. Unbelievably, it was the same. Dark and swirling, no larger than the size of a dollar coin, a birthmark shaped like the sun.

Knock! Knock! The noise startled her, it was Enzo, “Are you okay?” he asked.

Caterina's eyes darted around the large bathroom, quickly pulling her shirt back into place.

“I’m okay. I’ll be out in a moment.” she said a bit more breathlessly than she had intended to.

She wasn’t sure how much time she had been hiding away trying to compose herself..

“Okay. Please, meet me in the living room when you are done. I have something to show you.” It was his voice that trailed now.

Caterina creaked open the bathroom door and made her way down where she met Enzo, he was back in the wicker chair he’d been sitting in earlier. He rose to greet her and motioned for her to sit on the couch across from him. She parted her lips to explain herself, but it was Enzo that spoke.

“La bella. I was hoping to do this later when you were settled. Not so soon after your arrival.”

Caterina’s mind was spinning. Was this moment real?

“But,” he continued, “I saw you notice our mark, and I can see that you are frightened. I knew by your booking, that you belonged to me, to our family. You, Caterina, are my granddaughter. When your mother, God rest her soul, became pregnant she was so young, and I was so proud that I made her give you away.” His lips trembled as he looked at her, his golden eyes pooling with fresh tears.

Her heart felt like a balloon suddenly laden with cement and falling from the sky. Her mother was gone - mother’s, both of them. He continued to speak, “I never forgave myself. I always made sure I knew where you were. When your mother passed, she left you a sum of money, 20,000 dollars - I reached out to you in a letter, you deserved to have it, but I never heard from you. And so, I have been keeping it for you.”

“I don’t understand. The address in my mother’s journal, it was cafè, not here, not this bed and breakfast.” Caterina remarked in disbelief.

“Si. The address is your café, Caterina. Your mother left it to you.” He nodded as he spoke in the direction behind her.

Out of the shadow stepped what could only be described as her. She was looking at herself! Caterina’s eyes widened.

“Actually,” said a smooth voice with an English accent, “Momma left the café, to us.” Caterina was now staring at her twin.

“I’m Emma. I have been waiting for you, sorella.”

Her grandfather, now standing, walked between the two girls. “There is much to say and learn, my girls. Now that you are together, I do have something to give you.” Enzo held out a small white box, inside was an old brass key. “Take this, and fly. I believe that your story together has just begun.”