An Apartment in Venice by Marlene Hill Page A

“Marc knows about my year in Venice and I’d like to share with you. I’ve kept this secret far too long for my own good.”
    Giulia felt honored to hear those words and remained motionless not wanting to disturb Marlowe’s flow.
    “That year was wonderful until I let one of my teachers seduce me into pregnancy.”
    Giulia noticed Marlowe examining her closely—expecting a critical reaction, maybe? Evidently satisfied, she continued with her story. Good, I want her trust, Giulia thought.
    “The teacher was married. He suggested an abortion and offered to send me to Trieste.”
    “Send you! How old were you?”
    “Almost sixteen.”
    “My God.”
    “A real prince, huh? I’m not a Catholic, never have been but couldn’t do the abortion. Of course, the Padre and Sisters didn’t encourage such a thing. So I had a son and gave him away… for adoption.” Tears slipped out the corners of her eyes. Giulia moved to hold her. Between sniffles, Marlowe said, “The church found a ‘good Catholic family’ for my little Tomaso.”
    “It must have been so hard,” Giulia said. “Did you get to see him before—”
    “Once. He was perfect.” More tears slipped down her cheeks.
    “What about your parents?”
    Marlowe sat up, wiped her face and sucked in a big breath. “That’s a long story for another time. The short version is that I believed I couldn’t tell them. My Aunt Belle had arranged the trip to expand my horizons.” Marlowe snorted. “That backfired for sure. But Belle came to see me through. And Padre Tomaso sat with me most every afternoon through my pregnancy. He left off being a priest shortly after that and works with organizations that promote sex education and choice.”
    “A priest left the church to support choice?!”
    “He’s an amazing person. We met recently, and he said what happened to me had been the tipping point for him. For too long, his colleagues had been eager to ‘take care’ of such mistakes. He wanted no more of it.”
    “Wow,” was all Giulia could say. “How long have you kept that secret?”
    “Twenty-seven years.” They were both silent. “A long time, right?”
    Giulia nodded. “What was Marc’s reaction when you told him?”
    “He’d been adopted himself. I was sure he’d drop me in disgust when he heard my story. Instead, he understood. Said he thought his birth mother probably suffered the same fate.”
    “Wow, again,” Giulia said, thinking of her own secret. Similar story, different outcome. It had been eight years for her, and the only person who knew about Giulia’s abortion was Nancy, and now, Nonna. But compared to other things, maybe her abortion should be shoved away into a dark corner.
    “I spent hours in front of this painting trying to decide what to do,” Marlowe said bringing Giulia back from her thoughts.
    “Does the old sacristan know?”
    “I didn’t tell him, but he may. Venetians are voracious gossips and priests? Probably more so.”
    “Are you trying to find Tomaso?”
    Marlowe nodded. “When I last saw Padre Tomaso—I can’t stop calling him Padre—he had a lead. Marc and I followed up, but the man’s age wasn’t right. Marc’s already registered with an agency to search for his birth mother, and we recently filed the paperwork for me.”
    “A formidable job,” Giulia said almost under her breath.
    “I almost doubt if legal work was ever done. The convent may have found that ‘good Catholic family’ after receiving a hefty donation for their efforts.”
    “What about your efforts?” Giulia said, then worried she’d been too flip.
    But Marlowe laughed. “You’ve got a point there.”
    “Do you have other children?”
    “A daughter, Mandy.” Marlowe’s face lit up. “She’s getting a master’s in the Urban Planning Department at Portland State University. Do you know it?”
    “Of course. PSU is well known for their Urban Planning. But you’re so young to have a daughter in grad school.”
    Marlowe