A Little Holiday Temptation

“Probably a professional rivalry,” Ana suggested. “They competed for jobs, maybe record deals, maybe even women.”

“They probably didn’t have to compete for women. Women love musicians. There were undoubtedly enough to go around.”

“Who knows, maybe they were in love with the same woman,” Ana countered. “Men have feuded over women since the beginning of time. Remember Helen of Troy?”

Erik laughed. “The blues is usually about a broken romance,” he said. “You could be right.”

They talked about the blues and listened to it the entire trip. It was nearly noon when Ana turned onto the long driveway that led to the Barone house, a three-story Tudor-style mansion on the outskirts of Bridgeport. There were three other late-model cars parked on the circular drive.

Ana parked the Corvette and turned off the engine. Shy by nature, she was always a little apprehensive about meeting new people. “Here we are,” she said to Erik hesitantly.

Before they could get out of the car, the Barones, looking relaxed in their casual weekend clothes and warm jackets, came out of the house, welcoming smiles on their faces.

“Oh my God, it is Ana Corelli!” Julianna Barone cried, sprinting to the driver’s side and pulling open the door. “When Daddy said Mr. Whitaker was bringing his lady friend, Ana Corelli, I thought to myself, ‘Not the Ana Corelli!’ But it is you!”

Ana got out and was immediately enveloped in Julianna’s arms. Ana hugged her back. Then they peered into each other’s faces. “It’s good to meet you…” Ana began.

“Julianna. I’m sorry. Where’re my manners?” Juliana said.

“I was wondering that myself,” said Teresa Barone. She was in her early fifties, five-six and curvy with tanned skin. Her dark brown hair was cut short and framed her lovely face nicely.

“This is my mom, Teresa,” said Julianna.

“Welcome to our home,” said Teresa in Italian, having noticed Ana’s accent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ana.”

Ana smiled, loving the way the language tripped off the other woman’s tongue. It had been a while since anyone other than her family had spoken in Italian to her. She answered in Italian and soon the two of them were speaking rapidly in the language. Teresa took her by the arm and led her inside with Leo, Erik and Julianna following.

“Forgive her,” said Leo to Erik, commenting on the fact that his wife had totally ignored him in favor of Ana. “It isn’t often she meets someone who speaks her native tongue as fluently as she does. It goes to her head. How was your trip?”

Erik told him they’d had a pleasant drive. He looked around him, at the beautiful house and acres of greenery. “Is that a stable?” he asked about the outlying building east of the house.

“It is,” Leo told him. He shaded his eyes with a hand as he looked across the field at the well-kept stables. “In good weather, Teresa and I ride every day. We’re trying to interest Julianna.”

“But I’m scared of horses,” Julianna finished for her father. She smiled up at Erik. She was taller than her mother, but had the same chestnut hair. However hers was long and fell nearly to her waist in waves. Her complexion was also somewhere between her mother’s dark skin and her father’s fairer skin. She and her father were nearly the same height at around five-nine.

She and Leo stood aside as Erik retrieved his and Ana’s luggage from the car’s trunk.

“Yes, well, I’ve never gotten used to them myself,” Erik told her. “My father raises horses. These days he calls himself a gentleman farmer, and horses are one of his obsessions.”

“Finally,” Julianna said, “someone else who doesn’t think horses are the noble beasts my parents think they are. Those things are big! They’ve got hard hooves and they bite!”

“They don’t bite,” Leo said, chuckling. “Well, I’ve never been bitten by one, anyway.”

“You’ve been lucky,” his daughter said.

Leo suggested they put the luggage in the foyer closet until after lunch.

By the time they got into the kitchen where Teresa had led Ana, the two women were already putting lunch on the table while chattering away.

Teresa looked up at her husband when they came into the room. “Ana tells me that her mother is Natalie Davis-Corelli. Do you remember we saw her onstage in Rome over twenty-five years ago?”

“I do,” said Leo. He regarded Ana with an amazed look on his face. “I didn’t care much for opera at that time. It was your mother who changed that for me. I’d never heard a voice so pure, so clear, or so emotional. Is she still singing?”

“She performs on special occasions,” Ana told him, “but mostly she teaches voice lessons.”

After years of singing, she gets a lot of joy out of helping other singers reach their full potential.

Leo, Erik and Julianna sat on stools around the granite-topped island in the middle of the large stylish kitchen while Teresa and Ana put the dishes Teresa had prepared earlier in the center of the island. The smells to Ana were reminiscent of home.

“You come from a family of musicians,” Leo said to Ana. He smiled at his wife. “Being married to an opera expert, I’ve picked up a little knowledge over the years.” He returned his attention to Ana. “If your mother is Natalie Davis-Corelli that means your grandmother was Renata Corelli.”

“Yes,” Ana said, pleased to know he knew of her grandmother who had died several years ago and was still sorely missed.

“I never saw her perform live,” Leo said regrettably. “But I’ve seen her in films. She was amazing.”

Ana couldn’t think of her grandmother without getting a little choked up. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and softly said, “She was happiest when she was performing.”

Leo continued, excitedly. “No wonder your brother is a composer, his mother and his grandmother—two world-renowned singers. It was in his blood. What about you, do you have musical talent?”

Ana laughed shortly. “Not a bit. Musical talent skipped me and my sister, Sophia. Neither of us can carry a tune. Or play an instrument with any proficiency. We went into fashion, like our father. Sophia works with him in his clothing business and I became a model.”

“You sound so modest,” Teresa said, smiling warmly. “You did more than just became a model. You’re very successful at it.”

“I’ve been lucky,” Ana admitted.

“And very hard-working,” Erik put in fondly.

“There’s no substitution for hard work,” Leo said. He gave his daughter a meaningful look. “That’s what I’ve been trying to drive home with our soccer fanatic here. You have to burn the midnight oil to get anywhere.”

“We were state champs this year,” Julianna said a bit defensively.

“Yes, but a girl can’t live by soccer alone,” her father countered. “In order to get into a good college, you’ll need more than just a good athletic record. You’re too single minded. What about academics and other extracurricular activities? You have to be well-rounded.”

“Ana was single-minded in her career,” Julianna pointed out. “If she hadn’t been focused on becoming the best model she could be, she wouldn’t be where she is today.”

“Ana?” Leo said, obviously looking for an ally in this argument. “Tell us, please, is that true?”

“My parents insisted I get a college degree,” Ana told Julianna. “I have a bachelor’s degree in business. And I’ve been taking art classes for years.”

“See?” cried Teresa. “Beauty and brains!”

“That is so cool,” said Julianna. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I always thought of models as self-absorbed airheads.”

“You can find self-absorbed airheads in any career,” Ana said, to which everyone laughed.

They all sat down and soon were enjoying a lunch of Teresa’s native southern Italian cuisine—a seafood soup with fresh tomatoes and savory herbs, hot crusty bread and peach gelato for dessert.

“You’re a great cook,” Ana said to Teresa. “This soup reminds me of my father’s seafood soup.”