Italian Summer with the Single Dad

by Ella Hayes

  In the kitchen she watched Zach checking the temperature of the oven and deftly adjusting the shelves. She was so busy admiring the graceful way he moved that it took her a moment to notice the little piles of neatly sliced onions and peppers, the stack of grated mozzarella and thinly sliced Italian sausage arranged on the large marble island unit. Two large pizza bases were arranged on baking trays—floury. Freshly made!

  ‘You make your own pizza from scratch?’

  He poured the wine and handed her a glass, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Yeah! Doesn’t everyone?’

  She laughed. ‘No—o!’

  ‘To be fair, I don’t make it often these days—’ He picked up his glass, touched it to hers. ‘But since Alessia woke me up at stupid o’clock this morning I thought I’d make some dough—to get into her good books. She loves my pizza!’ He sipped his wine, smiling. ‘It’s not a big ask. I’ve had plenty of practice. I worked in a pizza place for a while, when I first came to Italy.’ He parked his glass on the side, started spooning tomato sauce over the bases and smoothing it out with the back of the spoon, then he looked up. ‘That was in Rome...a long time ago.’

  The intensity of his gaze was disconcerting. She groped for the backrest of a tall stool, pulled it out and seated herself as casually as she could manage. ‘Were you studying Italian? Is that why you came here?’

  He scattered toppings over the pizzas with a practised hand. ‘No! I studied music, but I’ve always loved Italy and I wanted to learn Italian, so after my degree I came over...and, apart from a shortish stint in England, I’ve been here ever since.’ He pulled open the oven door and threw the two tins inside, then picked up his glass and drank. ‘Right! There’s a bowl of salad in the fridge. If you could grab it and give it a toss that would be great. Dressing’s over there.’ He smiled. ‘I’m going to get Alessia washed and then we can eat.’

  * * *

  ‘So, what’s the story with your dad?’

  Olivia spluttered into her glass and swallowed hard. She was glad that he was putting the leftover salad into the fridge and couldn’t see her reaction. The remark about her dad had fallen from her mouth accidentally when he’d been telling her about his own father. She thought he hadn’t noticed, was glad that he hadn’t picked up on it, but he’d obviously been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to come back to it. Was there ever a right moment for that conversation? Fathers... Daughters... She glanced at Alessia, who’d fallen asleep on the sitting room sofa—out for the count. ‘I... Erm—’

  Zach was leaning over the island unit now, refilling her glass. ‘I’m sorry if that was a buzzkill—you don’t have to answer.’

  There was a gentle light in his eyes and for a moment she felt the tug of it, as if he was guiding her to a safe haven, a place where she could open up and talk. She pressed the tip of her tongue against her teeth. The thing was, her feelings about her family were such a muddle, she wouldn’t know where to begin. No! She’d have to give him the brush-off.

  She reached for her glass, took a hefty sip. ‘It’s nothing really. We used to get on; we don’t any more.’ She’d managed to sound blasé, but inside she was breathing through the pain she felt, consciously smothering the little judder in her heart.

  Zach put the bottle down and settled himself onto a chair. He was looking at her intently. She looked away, fingered the stem of her glass. She wanted to drink the lot, but it would only make her feel worse.

  He sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have asked—I’m sorry. It’s just that when we were talking last night I got the impression you were close to your dad, so I was surprised about what you said this afternoon, about not catching up with him...’

  ‘It’s the way things go sometimes...’ Olivia sipped her wine again, held it in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. What did it matter anyway? Maybe telling Zach about her dad would make him see how important it was to stay close to Alessia, to not let work come between them. As long as she kept her tone matter-of-fact, she’d manage—it was only conversation, after all.

  She looked up, met his gaze squarely. ‘I told you that Dad’s an ecologist. What I didn’t say was that he’s rather unusual.’ Breathe. ‘Both of my parents are unusual.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘Mum used to wear these long skirts, jumpers knitted by yaks—are you getting a picture?’

  Zach nodded.

  ‘And Dad’s tall. He’s got a ponytail and big feet in big boots. You might say that my parents stood out in a crowd.’ She sipped her wine again. ‘They never got married. They didn’t see the point! They weren’t into all that. They were into conservation. When I was growing up, Dad was involved in a lot of environmental campaigns. He thought nothing of berating my teachers for “ecologically unsound” decisions in the classroom. He tended to draw attention to himself—and there was a knock-on effect...’

  Zach’s eyebrows lifted in a question and she forced herself to continue.

  ‘At school I used to get teased a bit—nothing drastic—but I was marked out because of my parents, and...well, because of myself too. Back then I was just like my dad. I was outspoken. I challenged people about things, set myself up for—’ she fingered her glass through a hazy memory of taunting faces ‘—but you know I was okay with it because I was proud of Mum and Dad. I respected them. Dad was my absolute, total hero—better than all the other dads by a mile.’ She could feel a bubble building in her chest but Zach was looking at her, eyes so blue and clear and kind that she wanted to go all the way. She swallowed hard.

  ‘So...not long after my thirteenth birthday, Dad came into my room one morning and told me he was leaving...he said he was moving to North Wales... He’d been offered this Field Ecologist’s job, something that would really make a difference, he said, and he couldn’t turn it down...

  ‘I didn’t understand why he kept saying that he was leaving, not we.’ She could feel a hot glaze of tears at the edges of her eyes and swallowed hard again. ‘But you see that was the second bombshell. Unbeknown to me, their relationship had run its course—that’s what he said!’ She blinked, felt a wet trickle sliding down the side of her face. ‘Then Mum came in. She said it had been a mutual decision. She didn’t want to move to Wales. She said that she and Dad would still be friends...that there was nothing for me to worry about—’ The empathy she could see on Zach’s face was suddenly too much to bear. She closed her eyes, swallowed the lump that was thickening in her throat. ‘But there was! Because for years I’d been telling everyone at school that marriage was pointless. I was very vocal about it...so you see...’ she dropped her face into her hands ‘...lots to worry about.’ Tears were sliding freely down her cheeks now, winding through her fingers, and she didn’t want to be crying like this in front of him but she couldn’t stop. She tried to speak, big wet gulps of words. ‘I felt—so—stupid.’ And then, through a haze of tears, she sensed him standing, moving towards her.

  ‘Liv. You were thirteen.’ His hand was on her shoulder, he was coaxing her up, smoothing the hair away from her face. ‘I can’t watch you crying and not put my arms around you.’

  And then she was melting against him, drawn into his warmth, and it felt like hours before the tears began to subside. His hand was gentle at her back, a little rigid at first, then softer until she could feel a gentle pressure from his fingertips. She could feel the damp crush of his shirt against her cheek, his heart beating, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, a steady heat began to flow through her veins, a new kind of awareness. He was feeling it too, she could tell. The moment was heavy, so heavy that it felt like a weight pressing down on her. He shifted on his feet and she sensed him looking down, waiting... For what—for her to lift her face? The thought of it made her dizzy.

  ‘Papà...’

  ‘Alessia!’ He breathed his daughter’s name and Olivia felt his arms slackening around her, a cool invasion of air between them as he stepped back. He was looking at her, a str
ange hazy light in his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

  She swiped at her eyes and her cheeks. ‘Yes—I’m sorry.’ Her words were tumbling out in a rush. ‘Thank you for holding—I must look a state—I should go.’

  He put a hand on her arm. ‘You don’t look a state and you don’t have to go—there’s more to talk about.’

  ‘Papà, dove sei?’ The voice from the other room was sleepy.

  ‘I’m right here, Alessia. I’m coming!’

  He was still holding her in his gaze, a weight of kindness in his eyes that was making her bubble up again and she couldn’t bear it. She took a step towards the door. ‘Go to her. I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OLIVIA SUDDENLY REALISED that she’d been staring at the same photograph on her computer screen for ten whole minutes. She pushed her chair back, walked to the open windows and looked out. Today the view reminded her of a holiday postcard: harsh light, saturated colours, zero charm. She slumped against the casement, felt the restless curtains brushing her bare feet.

  Zach had come to see her the morning after her meltdown. She’d smiled, apologised for crying all over his shirt then told him she was really busy. She hoped he could see that she didn’t want to talk. She couldn’t. Not until she’d untangled the knot inside her head. It was what she’d been trying to do for the past three days, but everything was mixed up: feelings about her dad, feelings about Zach and Alessia. For every thread she managed to straighten out there was another one twisting itself even tighter.

  Perhaps she should have left the terrace the moment Zach arrived that day, but she’d been enjoying herself with Alessia more than she could ever have imagined and Zach had seemed so pleased, had looked at her with such a happy light in his eyes that she couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She’d been mesmerised by him, by how he was with Alessia. The way he’d drawn Alessia into his lap, the way he’d kissed her head...it had made her think about her dad, churned her up about it all.

  Her mum used to smile at her, tell her she was a daddy’s girl. She loved her mum but spending time with her dad always felt special. He was her best friend! She closed her eyes, trying to see beyond...

  Zach smoothing Alessia’s wet hair away from her face, kissing the plastic duck because she wanted him to... ‘Why don’t you bring Poppy and Wizard into the sitting room for a gallop?’ He knew the names of Alessia’s little ponies...because he was interested...because he loved her...because to him Alessia was the most special little girl in the world...

  Olivia sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. She could feel the ache of tears behind her eyes again. Her dad had been like that...with her. She was an only child, his only daughter... Had he found her interesting? Had he wanted to spend time with her as much as she wanted to spend time with him? It had never occurred to her before, but had she been his best friend too?

  And now she remembered the pain in his eyes when she told him he’d let her down. He’d sat on her bed, reached for her hand but she’d pulled it away. ‘Liv, I’m moving out, that’s all. I’m not abandoning you... There’s a room for you in my new place...you’re still my girl. Didn’t I bring you up to be a free spirit?’ She hadn’t been able to speak, to fit words to the confusion in her head, so she’d twisted her fingers in her lap and stared at the carpet.

  He’d put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m not letting you down. I love you. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you... But sometimes life leads you onwards, you know. You can go with it or you can stick...’ She’d felt the pressure of his fingers on her shoulder, a little squeeze. ‘I have to go with it... I thought you of all people would understand.’

  She’d tried to understand but her relationship with him had changed after that. There was something unhealed between them, something she couldn’t push past. Her role model, her hero, had flown off into the sunset to fight the good fight somewhere else. He’d found something more important than his family. More important than her. That was the way it had felt to her thirteen-year-old self.

  The start-up kick of a lawnmower broke into her thoughts—the gardeners getting everything ready for the next wedding. She let her knees drop out and sat cross-legged. She wished she hadn’t told Zach about her dad. Digging through old memories, delving into deeply personal stuff was tipping the scales too far. He was her boss! She pictured the mischief on his face as he’d hurled water at her legs, felt a smile tugging at her lips. Okay, maybe he was also a friend, becoming one anyway. But then, when he’d been holding her, there’d been that moment...

  She got to her feet, poured herself a glass of water. In a moment of weakness he might have given her the impression that he wanted to kiss her...but maybe she’d misconstrued things. She’d been upset and it had felt so nice being held in his arms, all warm and safe, and there’d been that lovely subtle scent of his cologne, the rise and fall of his ribcage, the steady beat of his heart... Easy to get things muddled up with all that going on. Muddles and tangles and confusion, Zach whirling around in it. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop wondering why his arms had felt like home when the home she’d sold herself looked so different.

  She sipped her water.

  Free spirits—that was how she’d seen her parents when she was growing up, but after her dad left she’d questioned the whole ethos. Suddenly all that freedom seemed like a messy way to live, and she didn’t want messy. A clean start with someone demonstrably committed to her—that was what she’d set her heart on. Good times, bad times, making a home and having a family, growing closer, working things out, weathering the storms. With Zach, she’d be stepping into Isabella’s shoes and maybe she wouldn’t fill them properly. Maybe she wouldn’t live up to his expectations and he’d end up disappointed, the way she’d been disappointed in her dad. She pressed the cold glass to her forehead. She was getting ahead of herself, thoughts running away with her, getting tangled up again. Stop it! Nothing had happened with Zach.

  As she sat down at her desk and reached for the computer mouse, Alessia’s face shimmered in front of her eyes, trotting the little ponies, tongue clicking nineteen to the dozen... She sighed. Any kind of relationship with Zach Merrill was bound to be complicated, and she wasn’t at all sure that she had the heart for complications.

  * * *

  Olivia pulled the USB stick out of the computer and fitted it into its box. Done! Eight hundred wedding photos edited, processed and ready to send to her first bride and groom! She wanted to run upstairs and tell Zach, but she could hardly do that when she’d been avoiding him for the past three days. Her jubilation evaporated instantly. Hiding away had felt right at the time but, thinking about it now, she wondered if her behaviour had been a little childish. What must he have thought when she turned him away from her door? Had he been hurt?

  The sound of voices broke into her thoughts—a familiar little giggle then a knock. Alessia! Her mouth went dry. Zach?

  She hurried to the door but, when she opened it, it was Lucia who was standing there, holding Alessia’s hand. Alessia was jiggling up and down and as soon as Lucia let go of her she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Olivia’s legs.

  ‘Well, this is a lovely surprise!’ Olivia bent down, hugged the little body, kissed the top of her head. Alessia’s hair smelt sweet and clean. She had the urge to lift her up and cuddle her in, but Lucia was watching, waiting to talk to her.

  ‘Hello, Olivia. I’m sorry if we are disturbing you but Alessia wanted to say hello.’ The older woman kissed her on both cheeks then stood back and smiled. ‘We haven’t seen you in the garden for a few days. You’re just like Zach—always working.’

  Olivia felt her heart skip at the mention of Zach’s name. ‘I’ve been busy. Erm...would you like to come in?’

  ‘If it’s okay, we’ll come in for just a minute.’ Lucia smiled apologetically. ‘Alessia wanted to s
ee your room...’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s fair.’ Olivia stepped aside for Lucia to enter. ‘Alessia did show me her room, after all—’ For a moment her words seemed to hang in the air above them and she faltered. Did Lucia know that she’d spent an evening with Zach and Alessia? Probably! Definitely! She sucked in a deep breath and followed Lucia into the sitting room, Alessia dancing and hopping at her heels. ‘Can I get you some tea, or some lemonade?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ Lucia was looking around then met her eye and smiled. ‘Are you happy down here? It’s a quiet part of the house...’

  ‘I love it, maybe because it is so quiet.’

  Lucia’s eyes glowed warmly. For some reason Olivia found it hard to hold her gaze so she glanced at Alessia, who was examining her computer desk from a safe distance. She’d clearly been instructed not to touch anything. When she turned back to Lucia, she suddenly noticed the older woman’s well-fitting white dress with navy topstitching, the red glossy nails, freshly painted. She wondered if Lucia was going on a date. It was hard not to smile at the thought of it. ‘You look very nice, Lucia. Are you going out?’

  The older woman coloured slightly. ‘Yes—I have...a thing...in town—’

  Definitely a date!

  ‘Is Alessia going too?’

  Lucia shook her head. ‘No...she’s staying here... Maria’s going to keep an eye on her until Zach’s finished his meeting with the accountant.’

  Olivia pictured Maria, the housekeeper, a bustling, slightly breathless middle-aged woman who always seemed to be busy with laundry. Would Maria have time to play with a three-year-old child? It seemed unlikely, whereas Olivia herself happened to be free.