and all of his closest friends are Fascists. They go with Mussolini, no matter what.” Rosa squeezed his arm. “Anyway, just because Papa thinks something doesn’t mean you have to. Fascism is now our enemy. Jews should leave the party, after today. The Race Laws are the last straw. They threw you out of school. It’s outrageous!”
“Papa says it will be temporary.”
“He’s wrong. Sandro, you have to think for yourself.”
“Rosa!” His mother entered the room and kissed Rosa on both cheeks, followed by his father.
“What a nice surprise!” His father held out his arms to embrace Rosa, but Sandro detected the effort in his parents’ smiles. All evening, they had been talking privately in his father’s study.
Rosa kissed them both. “What a terrible day. I’m horrified.”
“As are we,” his mother said, her tone controlled. “But your father is already working on solutions. You’ll stay and eat, won’t you?”
Sandro interjected, “It’s my consolation dinner, Rosa. Cornelia promised me something fried.”
Rosa chuckled, a happy sound amid the tension. “I’d love to stay.”
“Good, sit down, and I’ll get another place setting.” His mother turned and left for the kitchen.
“Yes, sit down, both of you.” His father crossed to the table, picked up his wineglass, poured some, and offered it to Rosa. “How have you been?”
“Fine, until today.” Rosa accepted the wine and sat down. “Papa, what about the Race Laws? What is Mamma talking about, solutions?”
“We have to keep our wits and go forward. There is a provision for Jewish schools to be established with government funding.”
“But what do you think of the party now? You, of all people, who are so loyal, must have been shocked. It’s an about-face, is it not?”
“As I told Sandro, I am shocked by the promulgation of the Race Laws. However, since then, I’ve had some time to study the law, confer with members of the Board, and make some calls.”
Rosa frowned. “It’s horrifying, nothing can change that, Papa.”
“The Board is already exploring renting a space in which to hold classes, and members of the Community are volunteering to teach. We certainly have plenty of teachers and professionals who can help us.”
“But—” Rosa started to say, but his father raised a hand.
“Jewish teachers who were displaced today have been calling the synagogue, looking for work, and we are making a list to see how many we can hire. I have suggested we take Professoressa Longhi, Sandro’s math teacher. Sandro can help teach arithmatic to the younger students. He’s always wanted to teach, so perhaps we can look on this as an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?” Rosa repeated, her disapproval undisguised. His mother reentered the room with the place setting, set a dish and silverware in front of Rosa, then sat down.
“Yes,” his father answered firmly. “Obviously, this is a bad situation, but we must make the best of it. There’s no reason for Sandro and the others to lose time, as they will still be eligible to take the state examination at the end of the year. If they pass, they will graduate.”
“So that’s been provided for?”
“Yes. What matters most is that the academic needs of the students are met.” His father patted him on the shoulder. “Obviously, this is not a problem only for Sandro’s liceo. There are early estimates that about six thousand Jewish students are affected, one hundred and seventy secondary school teachers, and a hundred university professors. So we’ll adapt and go on. After all, survival is what we Jews do best.”
“Well put, dear,” his mother said, as Cornelia entered the dining room with a dish of carciofi alla giudia, fried artichokes, a Jewish specialty.
Sandro’s eyes lit up. “Bravissima, Cornelia.”
“Just for you.” Cornelia smiled as she set down the platter, and the fried artichokes looked delicious. The light breading glistened with olive oil and lemon, and was dotted with coarse flakes of sea salt. His father said a prayer over the food, and Sandro plucked a spear of artichoke, taking a bite.
“Mmm, I’m officially consoled.”
“Good.” Cornelia patted his shoulder and went back to the kitchen.
Rosa cleared her throat. “I have something to tell everyone, even though this night is already a difficult one. I might as well come out with it. My job at an international relief agency has come through, and everything is in place. I am going to emigrate with David, and it’s all set up. I’m sorry to have to tell you tonight, but I’m leaving at the end of the week.”
Sandro felt stunned and sad. He had never believed she would