Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 16.2: 1994, Georgina

Chapter 16.2: 1994, Georgina

 

The sauce smell is getting to me. Like a child, my finger dips into the sauce jar and its in my mouth before I realize. Mm. It tastes sweet. Frankie preferred the sweeter tomato sauces, that weird boy. So now I prefer the sauce to be a little sweet. But then again, Frankie always had a sweet tooth. Of course he did, with his loving the strawberry milk.

In back, the sounds of Renata Tebaldi ring. Its "Un bel di vedremo" from Madama Butterfly. Frankie loved Renata Tebaldi. This is his album, one Frankie had left at my place by happenstance, one of my most precious possessions. As the manicotti bakes, I start to sing along. Then I laugh because there's no way I could ever sound like Renata Tebaldi. But that's okay.

But as the song gets more desperate, I do, too. I think about how I wish Frankie were behind me, suddenly taking my hand and spinning me to him, giving me a romantic dip. Maybe a kiss in the dip. That silly boy. Ah, Frankie...Frankie...

My finger dips into the jar again, and I close my eyes as the sauce sits on my tongue. 

The clock chimes 8pm. My eyes open and stare at it. The manicotti has to be ready soon. That girl is coming over again, we set a time. She has somewhere she has to be by ten, so she will leave by nine. There is just enough time for her to eat dinner here, to talk. She has no idea she will be fed, but its just good manners to do so. 

The oven blows hot air on my face as I check the softness of the shells, the meltiness of the cheese. It looks about ready, but I will give it a few more minutes. It looks delicious, the shells rippled in texture, the cheese fluffy and just right.

In preparation, I take out the good china. The ones Mr. Caselotti gave Frankie and I in celebration of our wedding. The plate in my hands is so familiar. The gold rim, the little pink rose in the middle. The pink rose was a nod to Frankie, not to me. Frankie loved pink. I personally preferred the blue willow pattern, since I love blue. We even fought about it, but now I prefer this little pink rose pattern. Its a little part of Frankie. 

On second thought, thinking about how that girl destroyed my photo album by mistake, I put the little pink rose plate away back into the china cabinet. That girl might be a bull in a china store, its possible. If she destroyed this plate I wouldn't know what I would do. She wouldn't be able to try to replace it. Instead, I take out the blue willow plates that I eventually got from Avi. They're not high quality, but they're good for this purpose. 

When the table is set, the sauce and cheese smell are at their height and I know the manicotti is done. Racing to the oven, I put on my oven gloves and quickly take the casserole dish out of the hot reaches. The mozzerella cheese is bubbling on top, so lovely. The sudden image of Frankie standing next to me, his eyes closed, the sound of him breathing in the joyous smell of something I baked for him stops my heart. 

With the manicotti on top of the oven cooling, my hand in the oven glove goes over my heart. The glove is still very warm from the casserole dish, so it feels foreign, like another human being. I hope the food can cool down enough by the time the girl comes.

I jump as a knock beats on my door. Five knocks. Safe knocks. It is the girl, I know. But the food hasn't cooled yet. Will there be enough time? My eyes take a final scan of my kitchenette. Goddamn, I forgot to put the tea kettle on. No tea tonight, I suppose.

Quickly, I go over the record player next to piano and take the needle off. The apartment goes completely quiet, unsettling. 

"Georgina? Its me, Ruiz...what is that smell?" she asks from the hallway.