Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop by Rosanna Chiofalo Read Free Book Online Page B

it back herself and almost gasped when she saw what delights were in store for her. Puffy clusters of dough in vanilla and chocolate were piled one on top of the other to form a misshapen pyramid. Chocolate and vanilla cream oozed from a few of the pastries.
    â€œHa-ha! I see you couldn’t wait.” Madre Carmela gently teased Rosalia, who quickly looked up, her cheeks turning the same hot pink hue as the sugar roses the nuns had painstakingly created this morning for a wedding cake.
    â€œThat’s all right, my child. I’m happy to see you are feeling more comfortable here. Go ahead. Have as many as you like.”
    Rosalia wondered which one she should try first—the chocolate or the vanilla. She’d always loved anything vanilla, so she opted for one of those first. Instead of taking a small, tentative bite out of the pastry, as she would have done her first few weeks at the convent, she popped the whole sweet at once into her mouth, eliciting another hearty laugh from Madre Carmela. But this time, Rosalia wasn’t embarrassed. She closed her eyes, savoring the pastry’s airy, flaky crust and the rich sweetness of the vanilla cream. Her sadness over her dream was quickly dissipating.
    â€œWhat are they called?” Rosalia asked in a soft voice as she took a bite out of one of the chocolate pastries.
    Madre Carmela was surprised. The girl had only spoken a few sentences since they found her. She mostly nodded or shook her head whenever Madre Carmela or the other nuns asked her a question. Sometimes, Madre Carmela had been able to coax a small smile out of her, but that was it. This week marked a month since they had rescued Rosalia. Madre Carmela was beginning to worry she might not ever get through to the terrified young woman. Her hope had been in the pastries. Whenever Rosalia ate one of the shop’s creations, Madre Carmela detected a flicker of light in her eyes. Now at last it appeared that the sweets had managed to crack through Rosalia’s shell.
    â€œThey are called Lulus .”
    â€œ Lulus? ”
    â€œ Si. You’ll never forget that silly name.” Madre Carmela smiled before continuing. “They are bignè or cream puffs, but these are Sicilian cream puffs, and they are baked. When we fry bignè, they are known as sfinci .”
    â€œI remember my mother used to make sfinci .” Rosalia’s eyes filled once more with sadness.
    Fearful that she would lose her again, Madre Carmela returned to the subject of the Lulus . “As you tasted, they’re filled with cream—vanilla in the lighter ones, and chocolate hazelnut in the chocolate puffs.”
    â€œThey are very delicious.” Rosalia took another chocolate one. As she ate, her brows creased together, and her eyes held the vacant stare Madre Carmela had become accustomed to seeing when she entered Rosalia’s room. She couldn’t help wondering what thoughts were flashing through the young woman’s mind.
    â€œ Si, Rosalia. They are very delicious. I knew you would love them. I am so overjoyed you are feeling better. If you want, you can come down to the kitchen later and watch me make a few of our pastries.”
    Rosalia didn’t seem to hear Madre Carmela. She had lost her again. Just as Madre Carmela’s spirits began to sink, Rosalia said, “Why hasn’t my family come to see me?”
    â€œYour family?”
    Rosalia nodded her head. “Where are they?”
    â€œRosalia, we haven’t been able to notify your family. You haven’t remembered your surname, and it seems like there are fragments of your memory that are missing. I, and the other sisters, have asked you a few times about your family and where you live. At first, I thought it was just that you weren’t feeling well enough to tell us, but later I could see you were struggling to try to remember. You’ve forgotten all of this?”
    The past few weeks were mostly a fog for