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“I don’t know.” Alfredo felt doubtful, but not only about his cheese. It was about his secret.
“Why not?”
Alfredo hesitated. Telling Lucia had lightened his burden, but telling the priest was another matter. “Father, you don’t know everything about me. If you did, you might not want me back, or my cheese.”
“What, Alfredo?” Father Casagrandi touched his arm with concern. “Do you wish to make a confession?”
“Yes,” Alfredo shot back. “I’m a Jew.”
“What?” Father Casagrandi’s eyes widened. “You are? But you came to church.”
“I was afraid not to. I’ve kept my religion secret, in fear.” Alfredo folded his arms. “Now, do you still want me in town?”
Father Casagrandi’s expression softened. “Alfredo, you’re welcome here, and if you move to town, you’ll be under my protection. I can’t promise everyone will welcome you, but I can promise I won’t allow even an unkind word against you. I preach love toward all men. I hope my congregation does the same, too.”
Alfredo didn’t know if he was sad, happy, or both. He knew only that he was proud to be a Jew and proud to say so, at long last.
Gaetano walked over. “Alfredo, did I hear you say you’re Jewish?”
“Yes.” Alfredo braced himself, knowing Gaetano was a man of deep Catholic faith.
“I had no idea.” Gaetano smiled. “I’d like to talk to you about that.”
“Really?” Alfredo asked, uncertain. “Why?”
“I’m a follower of Saint Paul, and he was a very devout Jew, of course. He was a scholar of the Torah, born Saul of Tarsus. He could read the Hebrew Bible and spoke Aramaic, Greek, and Latin. I’ve studied his life extensively and I’ve read a lot about Judaism. I’d like to talk to you about it.” Gaetano looked around the noisy piazza. “Where can we go get a coffee, I wonder?”
“Maybe Father Casagrandi will lend us his office,” Alfredo said, though he was getting an idea. Maybe life could be better for him, in the time he had left.
“For coffee?”
“Not exactly,” Alfredo answered, with a sly smile.
An hour later, Alfredo steppedout of the Madonna dei Miracoli with Gaetano, feeling and looking like a new man. Gaetano had cut his hair to a normal length, and he had trimmed his beard to look distinguished. Alfredo had on a fresh shirt and pants borrowed from Father Casagrandi, with a jaunty bandanna around his neck.
Father Casagrandi applauded. “Alfredo, you look twenty years younger!”
Dante looked over, astounded. “Alfredo? What a change!”
Lucia hugged him. “You’re so handsome!”
Gaetano beamed. “Doesn’t he look wonderful?”
Alfredo chuckled. “It’s a miracle!”
Father Casagrandi clapped him on the back. “Alfredo, I see my parishioner now, with the room to rent. I’d like you two to meet.” He motioned to get someone’s attention, and Alfredo looked over,surprised to see Signora Tozzi, attractive in a red dress, her dark hair threaded with gray.
“Alfredo, is it you? It’s good to see you, looking so well!” Signora Tozzi burst into a dazzling smile and reached him with a kiss for both his cheeks, and Alfredo caught a whiff of jasmine perfume, which made him momentarily woozy.
“Signora, it’s good to see you again.”
“Please, call me Simona. I’m sorry you left town, so long ago. I know it was because of me and my friends, behaving badly over your cheese.”
“Not really,” Alfredo said, touched, but he turned to Father Casagrandi. “You see, Signora knows. If I make my cheese again, everybody will think it’s charmed. Last time, that went badly for me.”
“I promise, it won’t happen again. I’ll make sure.”
“So will I.” Simona’s dark eyes twinkled. “Please come back to town, Alfredo. I’m a widow now. We could... keep company.”
