Even though she’d known him such a brief period, she wished she could run away with him. She would like nothing more, because although she’d known him such a short time, in the depths of her soul she believed she loved him. She couldn’t allow herself to take those feelings out and nurture them. Instead she trampled them down like the grapes in the crush. She was a dutiful daughter and would go through with the marriage to Franco. She would embrace her new life, even if it would be painful.
For now, she allowed herself to enjoy her time. Every evening she, Gregorio, Maria, and a group of passengers and crewmen dined together. They quickly became her friends. The older women were her protectors, the young men her dance partners. The conversation was exciting and different because it had to do with the whole world instead of grapevines, olive trees, family, and people she’d known all her life.
Most of all, she reveled in her time with Gregorio. She had feelings no words could describe. She felt as if she were surrounded by a golden glow. They fit together perfectly. He continued to teach her to dance and even when they were dancing with others, they were aware of each other’s presence. He was alive and charming to her in a way she hadn’t encountered with young men at home. They talked and talked without tiring of each other’s company.
The music was like nothing she had ever heard. There was a live band each night and the sounds were rich and mesmerizing. At home the music usually consisted of a mandolin and other string instruments, but nothing as stylish and graceful as the piano she heard aboard the ship. It was one more thing she came to love.
On the night before they were due to arrive in New York, Catarina felt as if her heart would be ripped out of her chest if she were forced to leave. She and Gregorio danced to song after song and then he took her hand and asked her if she would step out on to the deck with him. She knew she shouldn’t. It wasn’t proper, but her head nodded and her legs seemed to have ideas of their own. She followed him without a word of protest.
As soon as they were away from everyone else, he took her into his arms and kissed her. Her first kiss. His lips were warm on hers. She felt herself melting into him. She knew they should stop, but she didn’t want to. When he stepped back from her, she started to silently cry. She looked out to sea, her face an expression of sorrow and pain. Everything she was doing was wrong, but she decided she could speak her mind, just this once. For this moment, she would tell the truth and then she would lock the words away.
She was about to speak when Gregorio beat her to it.
“Catarina, I promised myself that I wouldn’t say this to you—that I wouldn’t interfere, because I know that you’re promised to someone else. But I love you. And the thought of you with someone else is killing me. How can you do this?” His voice was ragged, and he too was fighting back tears. “I want us to be together. Ti prego,” he pleaded. Please.
“I want to be with you, too,” she admitted. “But what am I to do? Franco is the son of my father’s best friend. It would shame my father if I ran away with you. My mother would never acknowledge me again, and I couldn’t stand that. I would be dead to them.”
The wind whipped her hair and her teeth began to chatter. Gregorio tucked her into his warmth, her face turned against his chest.
“I wish I had never met you,” he said. “I was happy before and now I’m crazed and filled with jealousy. It’s terrible. My life is ruined.” Gregorio ran one hand over his face while he kept the other wrapped around her.
“Don’t say that. This has been the happiest nine days of my life. It’s been the best time for me, and I will remember you always. I will love you always.” It was easier for Catarina to be honest about her feelings, because tucked into his arms, she didn’t have to see his face.
“If you truly loved me, then you would choose to be with me. Don’t marry him, Catarina. We’ll be happy together.”
“I can’t, Gregorio,” Catarina looked up at him. “I wish I could. Believe me. I’m sorry.”
“Then go,” he said and stepped back away from her—the cold wind making her shiver. “If you’re so afraid to disappoint them and to be dead to them, then fine. Instead, you’re dead to me,” Gregorio said.
“Stop. Please, I can’t bear it if you despise me. I love you,” she said.
Gregorio grabbed her forearms and then dropped them. He stepped towards her and then stepped back again and turned away.
“Please don’t leave like this. Don’t end it like this,” Catarina pleaded.
“I don’t want to end it at all,” he shouted at her. “You’re the one ending it,” and then he strode away from her and didn’t turn back.
Catarina waited for him to return, but he didn’t. She was freezing out in the night wind coming off the ocean. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. She took one of the handkerchiefs she had been working on out of her pocket and wiped her face and nose with it. She looked at Franco’s initials in the corner of the cloth and then crumpled it up and threw it into the black, frothing sea.
Chapter 12
JULIETTE, FALLING FOR SOMEONE WHO LOVES FOOD AS MUCH AS SHE DOES
“He’s smart, and he loves food and cooking as much as I do. He’s Italian—my ultimate fantasy—and he’s even handsome which is a nice plus,” Juliette told Gina, recounting the details from the night before to her sister.
“He’s probably sick to death of Italian women. He probably thinks you’re exotic.”
“Who knows? Either way, you should have seen us, Gina. When we were cooking together in his parent’s restaurant it was like some crazy aphrodisiac.”
“The last time we talked, you said that you were having espresso together every day after class.”
“We still do. Amazingly enough, I’ve finally met a man who actually talks about food more than I do.”
“That’s a miracle.”
“I know. Oh my gosh, though. I have to tell you about his mother,” Juliette said, then gave her a recap of the slightly odd treatment she’d received.
“And what was his take on it?” Gina asked when Juliette was finished with the story.
“I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to burst the bubble we were in.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve heard Italian mothers are particularly protective of their sons. Hey, speaking of parents and children, have you talked to Dad lately? There’s something he wants to talk to you about.”
Juliette’s mind immediately went to the accident.
“Is it something about Mom?”
“It’s kind of about Mom, but it’s not bad, so don’t worry. He discovered something that could be helpful to you.”
“Helpful to me? How? What do you mean?”
“It’s not for me to say. You’ll have to talk to Dad.”
“Seriously? Don’t be weird. Just tell me.”
“I can’t. Sorry.” Gina changed the subject. “Have you been inspired about opening your own café while you’ve been there?”
“You’re infuriating, Gina,” Juliette complained. “I can tell you’re changing the subject, but fine, if you’re not going to spill the beans, I’ll humor you. The answer is yes, I keep seeing stuff that I’d love to incorporate into the look of my theoretical restaurant. There’s one little café here that has light purple stemware with air bubbles inside. It’s gorgeous and I’ve never seen anything like it. And Roman’s family restaurant has the most beautiful rustic table with a huge pottery jug filled with olive branches. I’m putting something like that on my mental ‘to do’ list.”
She picked up the folder she’d labeled “Café Inspiration” that was sitting on one of the cushions. It had never occurred to her that she would adore Italy quite as much as she did. And now this unexpected relationship with Roman had her reeling.
Over the almost-two months she’d been in Lucca, the folder she’d started had become jam-packed with recipes and ideas she’d hastily scribbled on pieces of paper as they came to her. She thumbed through the pages as she talked.
“Being here has been incredible. I’ve been making a folder with all of my favorite recipes, and I discovered a local restaurant that serves food that would make you weep. I wish I could take you there. It’s going to be my model.” She told her about Salvia and the amazing meal she’d had there with Odessa and Antonello, and then finally forced herself to say goodbye.
She missed her sister the second she hung up. They both had plenty of friends, but they had been each other’s closest confidantes since they were in diapers. She wished Gina would meet someone and fall in love, too. She wanted her to feel the same rush of excitement she’d been feeling with Roman. And then the thought struck her that she was already labeling herself in love. It was scary but seemed right. She had dated a lot throughout her life, but had never felt this giddy sense of love before. It was exciting and she decided to not overthink it. She would just see where it took her and be grateful for it.
As Saturday morning crept toward afternoon, Juliette got a little stir-crazy so she made herself a cup of coffee and brought down the box of letters. She slipped the second letter out of the envelope. It was from someone named Maria Crostina.
As Juliette began to read, she realized the letter must be from the girl who had traveled by ship to the United States with her grandmother. Her words were filled with longing for home and struggle as she tried to get to know her new husband. Juliette couldn’t imagine how strange that must have been. She wondered how old Maria was at the time. She would guess quite young. And her new husband seemed much older.
The letter was intriguing and Juliette poured over it, then sucked in her breath in surprise when Maria mentioned two names: Gregorio and Franco. Why two men? She recognized her granddad’s name, of course, but who was the other, and how did he figure into Nonna Catarina’s story? Juliette searched her mind for an answer but nothing came to mind and the letter abruptly ended. Before she could reach for the next to satisfy her curiosity, her phone rang. She ran to grab it, thinking it must be Roman, then saw the familiar number of her father on the screen.
“Hey Dad, how are you? Gina said you’d be calling. Is everything ok?”
“As ok as it can be right now. There’s no new new information about what will happen with the drunk driver or when the trial will be. Besides that, I’ve been keeping busy at the university and doing some work around the house.”
“Am I going to recognize it when I get home?”
“I’m not sure,” her dad sighed, and ran his fingers through his gray hair.
“Has the same contractor been helping you? Ian, right?” Juliette asked, thinking about the man who sat beside her outside the hospital room where her mother’s body had been taken.
“Yes, he’s been great.”
“I need to thank him when I get home,” Juliette paused, “for helping me.”
“With what?” Alexander asked. “Did you have some work done on your studio?”
“No, I need to say thank you because he was kind to me,” Juliette told him. “He stayed with me at the hospital until Gina got there. He sat with me and held my hand, even though he had never even met me before.”
“I didn’t know that,” Alexander said. “To be honest, I hardly remember the details of the day beyond the shock of it.”
“Me too.”
“I’m actually calling because I have some news.”
“What’s that?” Juliette braced herself.
“It’s about your mom’s estate.”
“Estate?” Juliette asked. “What do you mean?”
“Your mom left you some money, Sweetheart.”
“But you’re still alive. I mean, not to state the obvious, but wouldn’t you keep everything?”
“There’s family money and the family business. It’s always been set up that you and Gina would inherit directly.”
Juliette was having trouble taking in what he was saying. Since when had there been family money? No one had ever said anything about it.
“I’m confused,” she told him.
“Your mom and I always had money that we comingled. Mine from my professorship and hers from working at the jewelry store, but your mother came into the marriage with a share in the business and it has always been understood that it would go directly to you and Gina when she died. It’s a family business, Juliette, and I’m just the guy who married in,” Juliette’s dad said with good-natured humor.
“But that’s why I got the ring, right? Mom left the business to Gina, but you already gave me the ring.”
“That’s correct except for the division of the finances. Gina got Mom’s share of the business and the earnings from it going forward. That’s her legacy and you have the ring, but the two of you share equally in the value of what was your mother’s share of the business at the time of her death. I needed to sort out the details of the estate before telling you about the money.”
Juliette’s heart was pounding against her chest.
“Dad, I can’t possibly take it. It’s the last thing I want given the role I played in Mom’s death.”
“Are you still torturing yourself with that?” Alexander paused to collect himself before continuing. “I thought we were straight on this, Juliette. You played no role in your mother’s death. There’s nothing you could have done. It was an accident. You didn’t cause the drunk to hit your mom. And I’m sure as hell glad he didn’t take out you as well.”
A sob escaped Juliette, “I should have yanked her out of the way, but I froze. She would have saved me. I know she would have, but I just stood there like an idiot watching her get run down.” The pain of it felt like her heart was being seared and Juliette subconsciously put her hand on her chest and doubled over.
“Listen to me. It is not your fault. You have to stop this. You’re being irrational and it would have pissed your mother off.”
Juliette closed her eyes. Even if he was right, she couldn’t hear it yet.
“It’s a sizeable amount of money, Juliette,” he continued. “You could use it to open your café. It’s what Mom would have wanted for you.”
“I don’t want it, Dad.” Juliette told her father. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now. I’ll talk to you later, though, ok?”
“Juliette . . .”
“I love you. I’ll take to you later. I’ve got to go, I’m sorry.”
Alexander sighed. “All right, and I love you too, but we’re not done with this,” he told her before they disconnected.
Juliette sighed, held her head in her hands, lay down, and cried until she was all cried out. Then she stared at the ceiling while she tried to figure out what to do next. She knew her dad was right in that her mom wouldn’t want her to wallow in her misery, so she forced herself to get up, pull herself together, and get out of the apartment.
She realized the day was mostly gone and she hadn’t heard from Roman. She had expected him to at least call her or send a sweet text after spending the previous night together. She felt stir-crazy but didn’t have a plan, so she decided to go to the market to see if she could find Odessa. She grabbed her coat and started out the door, almost tripping over a potted plant on her doorstep. It was filled with lovely purple blooming pansies, and there was a note tucked inside. In Roman’s handwriting she read: Mi sono svegliato pensando a te. I woke up thinking of you.
She unconsciously placed the fingers of one hand to her lips and smiled a little in spite of her mental state. Maybe better than a phone call or a text she decided, and wondered when he had left the flowers there. She brought them inside and placed the pot in the center of her kitchen table. It added a homey touch to her tiny apartment and she was grateful for their cheeriness.
She buttoned her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. The weather reminded her of home. She guessed it was around 40 degrees, but in her opinion that counted as frosty. Christmas was close. When she decided to sign up for the class, she worried about being away over Christmas, but as it approached, she found that she was feeling fine about it. She’d bought
gifts for her dad and Gina and had already sent them home.
She walked down the stairs and into the section of town where the weekend farmer’s market was held. She browsed through the stalls and pondered what she would actually do on Christmas day itself. She decided on going to church and making herself dinner. Maybe she’d watch a Christmas movie on the computer. It wasn’t ideal, but she knew she’d survive. While she thought about it, she kept shopping. She chose a crusty ciabatta loaf and some brie, along with a mixture of olives dripping with pungent oil and herbs to nibble with her dinner. She spied some delicate gem lettuces and added them along with a lemon to her shopping basket. She could already taste the fresh salad dressing she would whisk together made of lemon juice, virgin olive oil, and a pinch of salt. She finally spotted Odessa’s stand from afar and made her way over. The booth was crowded, so she stood to the side until Odessa had a free moment.
“Buon giorno, Odessa.”
“Buon giorno, Juliette! Come stai?”
“Bene, grazie,” she told her friend. “Posso convincerti ad uscire per un bicchiere di vino dopo il lavoro? Can I lure you out for a cup of wine after work?
“Si, ottimo! That would be wonderful. Meet me back here at six fifteen.”
“Va bene. See you then.”
It was only four thirty, but Juliette’s fingers were cold, so she decided to take everything back to her apartment and warm up before returning to meet Odessa.
Walking back towards a flower stall selling early-blooming paper whites, she spotted Roman an aisle away. She found herself smiling and started to make her way towards him. He turned and saw her coming and flashed her a heart-splitting smile in return.
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