“Good morning,” Uncle Enzo said. He thanked Lita for the coffee, which she set in front of him. She glanced at Lorenzo, her cheeks like cherry blossoms.
Lorenzo turned to Uncle Enzo. “We’re supposed to go over business today, remember? Unless you’ve changed your mind, I thought I’d leave next week.”
“Very well.” Uncle Enzo rose and he and Lorenzo excused themselves. Lita offered to make them some breakfast and took out pans and eggs as they walked into the hall.
“You think that’s a good idea, Lita staying here?” Lorenzo asked. They sat in Uncle Enzo’s study, his uncle behind the wide old walnut desk while Lorenzo sat in the leather chair facing it.
“Why not?”
“Her family doesn’t like it.”
“We’re her family too.”
“I think I’ll be in Italy for a while.”
“Why? My business won’t take very long.”
“I know.”
“If you stay away too long…didn’t you hear what Carlo said about Lita and Joe?” Uncle Enzo tapped on his desk with a pen.
“I heard,” Lorenzo said. His jaw clenched. “Maybe he’s right,” he whispered.
“I’d like it,” Uncle Enzo said as he took out his files.
Once they were done, he and Lorenzo walked into the foyer.
“I should go,” Lorenzo said.
“Lita’s made breakfast.”
Lorenzo shrugged and followed him into the kitchen. Lorenzo inhaled the smell of the peppers and onions, mixed with eggs, some garlic toast on the side--his uncle’s favorite. Uncle Enzo thanked Lita and they sat together. Lita picked at her fruit salad, Lorenzo and Uncle Enzo ate without a word.
“You’re going to Italy?” Lita asked Lorenzo as she rose to clear the table.
Lorenzo stood and helped her. He breathed deeply, but only the citrusy scent of the dish soap and the lingering aroma of breakfast surrounded him.
“I leave in three days. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His temples tightened.
“I thought you were just going to deliver your father’s ashes?” she said as Lorenzo dried the dishes she washed. Her voice wavered. Better a small hurt now than what he might cause if he stayed. He felt like a robot, his movements mechanical and stiff.
“No, I have other business. No reason to be here, either.” He twisted the towel in his hand. He was a low, lying—all the more reason to stay away.
“Oh,” she said as they finished. She dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ve got to get my purse. If I don’t see you, have a good trip.”
Lorenzo watched Lita walk out.
“Call me if you think of anything else,” he said to his uncle. Again he let his longing for Lita shimmer briefly before his eyes dulled. Uncle Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“Won’t you be here for Sunday dinner? Everyone will want to see you before you go.”
“I don’t think so.” Lorenzo waved and walked out.
6
Lita waited, her hand on the downstairs bathroom’s glass doorknob. The front door banged shut. She took a few shaky breaths. Then she exhaled slowly and went into the kitchen. No reason to stay, Lorenzo’d said. She’d hoped their kiss, the promise of more, was enough. She focused her vision on Uncle Enzo, who stood and smiled back at her.
“Shall we?” Uncle Enzo asked.
Lita nodded. They went out arm in arm to visit Celeste D’Angelo. Maybe Lita could help Uncle Enzo, since she couldn’t seem to do anything for herself.
Celeste wasn’t in the market, but her daughter-in-law Eva showed them upstairs, where Celeste sat in the living room, sewing on a shirt button. She greeted them politely and when she blushed for a second, Uncle Enzo stood taller and smiled his most charming expression. Lita knew then her hunch was right--Uncle Enzo liked Celeste as more than a friend. The three sat and talked about the wonderful discovery, the neighborhood news, and their families. Lita was interested to find out that the DeGrazias and D’Angelos had known each other back in Italy and that Celeste and her husband as well as Uncle Enzo and Aunt Angela had all moved to San Francisco in the nineteen fifties. But when she asked more about the family ties, Uncle Enzo changed the subject. After an hour, they rose to go. Lita hugged Celeste.
“Will you join us for Sunday dinner?” Lita said. She glanced at her uncle, whose face lost about ten years off it in his broad smile.
“I can’t speak for my family, but I would like to, thank you,” Celeste said before she asked if she could bring anything. Lita looked to Uncle Enzo.
“Only yourself,” he said.
On the drive home, Lita tried to question Uncle Enzo about the D’Angelos and Celeste, but, like Lorenzo, he wasn’t open with much information. Still, she knew she was right about Uncle Enzo’s feelings for Celeste, especially when Celeste called that evening to ask if her family could come with her on Sunday. Uncle Enzo’s frown proved Lita’s suspicion that he would prefer Celeste to join them without the watchful eyes of her family on him. She knew how he felt, as she wished she could get Lorenzo alone again. Maybe he would come to dinner on Sunday to say goodbye. Until then, she would just hope. She didn’t have it in her to try and contact him again.
She spent the next few days with Uncle Enzo, talking about the family, learning their likes and dislikes and routines, discovering her new home and neighborhood. She appreciated the view of the bay from Uncle Enzo’s house on the hill, where she could also look down on her new church and the buildings where the rest of the family, and Lorenzo, lived. Still, it all seemed a blur to her, as if her brain was too overloaded to take in anything else.
She tried every night to think of some part of the neighborhood, like D’Angelo’s market with its metal shelves of Italian imports, bakery and deli cases, tall glass door refrigerators with prepared meals, and mural of Celeste and her husband’s hometown, painted by her son, Paul, who had passed away over ten years before.
Yet every landmark she recalled only ended in a flash of Lorenzo. His apartment was down the street from D’Angelo’s Market, he had been baptized at the church, he used to play in the park as a boy, he had Uncle Enzo’s stature and Janice’s grimace. He pervaded every place and every person reminded her of him. She had to forget. Her new family would be enough for her, for now.
On Sunday, she went to church with Uncle Enzo then returned home to start preparing for her first family dinner. She cleaned. She had convinced Uncle Enzo they didn’t need a maid anymore. The living room and dining room shone from her polishing, a vague hint of lemon lingered, and the bathroom and kitchen sparkled, though she was about to dirty the latter again.
She flapped a large white tablecloth over the gleaming surface of the cherry wood dining room table, set it with freshly ironed linen napkins and the everyday dishes, since it wasn’t really a special occasion, like a birthday or holiday. The fruits depicted on the white plates were cheery and Lita smiled as she placed wine and water glasses and silverware around the table. Almost everything in the house was what she herself would choose and she blinked, wishing she could have met her aunt, the woman Uncle Enzo said she was so like. And her father…considering Jane’s hateful reaction to her move, she suspected she might have known the truth all along, known her family was Lorenzo’s family too. Of course, Jane denied this and, so far, Lee changed the subject every time she brought it up. One part of her drifted while another felt anchored in a new spot.
She scanned the table one last time before running to greet Sophia and Carlo. The three of them worked together in the kitchen while Uncle Enzo made some calls in his study. The bright blue curtains were pushed open to let in the bright August light, the cool breezes, and the noises of cars and people arriving. Carlo took the tray of antipasti, with its rows of marinated red and green peppers, carrots, salami, olives, and mushrooms to the living room as Lita and Sophia started on dinner. They sliced bread and poured olive oil into little dishes, fanned slices of fresh mozzarella and heirloom tomatoes on a platter and sprinkled them with basil le
aves from the garden, all the while chatting about Sophia’s various jobs, from bookkeeping at DeGrazia Distribution to heading church committees, and her in laws, the D’Angelos, who Lita would meet next Sunday. They hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her this first time.
Voices followed the clunk of car doors and Gianni and Joe entered, Carlo and Uncle Enzo close behind. They all greeted each other with hellos and hugs and Lita settled into her new comfortable warm feeling. This was her family.
“Joe, Gianni, how about some help with the ‘queing?” Carlo asked as he picked up a pan of marinated chicken. He kissed Sophia, who stood at the sink washing and drying romaine lettuce for Caesar Salad. Gianni and Joe looked at each other, as if waiting for something.
“Go help your uncle,” Uncle Enzo said to Gianni, who smiled at Lita before he shrugged and walked out. He had Lorenzo’s smile, a little sexy and mischievous. Lita turned and got down the wooden salad bowl.
“Need help with anything?” Joe asked her.
Uncle Enzo walked into the foyer to answer the doorbell’s peal, muted under the talk and laughter echoing in from the back yard.
“There’s a bowl of pasta salad in the fridge you could take out.”
“So, Grandpa Enzo says you like cooking?” Joe pulled out the salad and stood waiting for her to lead the way.
“I do. What about you? Have any hobbies?”
“I wouldn’t call cooking for this family a hobby.” They laughed. “Work keeps me busy. Otherwise, movies, concerts, clubs, and all that. Just the usual. Been to the beach yet this summer?” He followed her into the dining room to set the food out.
“Only once last month. It’s not really hot enough unless you go down to Santa Cruz or something. I don’t have a car, so I don’t go that far.”
“I could take you if you want,” he said as they reentered the kitchen.
Lita faced him. He smiled at her, his dad’s smile, kind and open. Nothing of Lorenzo in him.
“If you have time, thanks.” Maybe here, with these people, she could learn to truly trust.
“Sure,” he said.
They turned then to greet Vincente and his grandpop Vittorio, Uncle Enzo’s older brother, and, a few minutes later, Celeste and her family. Soon Lita was surrounded, chatting and laughing with Joe, Gianni, Vincente, and the D’Angelo boys. Joe remained friendly, Gianni was a flirt, Vincente strong and observant, Frankie D’Angelo a tease, and his younger brother Michael sweet. She liked being surrounded by men, good men who made her feel secure and comfortable.
The doorbell rang again. She peeked between Vincente and Michael’s shoulders. It was only Janice and an attractive man, maybe in his early forties, wearing a gorgeous grey suit, like Danny Kaye’s in “White Christmas.” Lita watched as they greeted everyone, wondering at the slight frowns of Uncle Enzo and Vittorio.
“Break it up, fellas,” Janice said, pushing Gianni. “You look like Lita’s personal entourage. She the little princess?”
Lita crossed her arms, her mind spinning.
“Better a princess than an old--” Gianni said.
“Rhymes with witch?” Janice’s friend said.
They laughed, except Lita, Michael, and Vincente. Michael and Vincente walked away while Janice introduced Lita to her friend, Paolo Francis.
“Princess, meet the Queen,” Janice finished before chuckling. Paolo tweaked her ear.
“I love your suit,” Lita said. Since she couldn’t think of a witty remark, she ignored Janice’s comment.
“Thanks, Nordstrom. I work there as a buyer. Your dress is fabulous,” he said, fingering the blue linen. Lita smiled.
“Oh lord. Come on, nephews,” Janice said to Joe and Gianni. “Fashion divas. Show me the wine.”
Lita and Paolo laughed and continued their talk until dinner.
Sitting at the table, Lita almost choked on her bite of salad when the doorbell rang. But it was only Lee who followed Carlo into the dining room, apologizing for being late. He kissed Lita on the top of her head before sliding into the empty seat beside her, the seat she’d imagined Lorenzo in. Prickles of guilt pestered her. Lee joining them was great, just what she’d hoped.
“I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to Lorenzo?” Uncle Enzo asked him.
Lita strained to hear over the five other conversations around the table.
“Yes, he’s busy packing. He told me he’d already said goodbye.”
Lita placed her fork on her plate and sipped her water.
“I suppose he did,” Uncle Enzo said. He glanced at Lita, who wanted to pour the water on her head, she felt so hot.
Instead, she sat, rearranging the food on her plate, hoping it would look like she’d eaten more than she had, waiting for the moment she could escape to the kitchen to help with the dishes. But apparently Lorenzo hadn’t lied to Emma that Thanksgiving two years before--all the men except Uncle Enzo and Vittorio cleaned up while everyone else went into the living room.
When Carlo and Joe brought out coffee and dessert, Lita’s entourage settled in again. Lee soon joined them, edging ever closer to Lita. She glanced at him and wondered at his frown and crossed arms, so unlike his usual easy posture and smile. Then Uncle Enzo called Gianni and Joe into his study while Frankie, Michael, and Vincente moved off, talking about the Giants.
“Something going on?” Lita asked her brother.
“Just worried about you,” he said. He put his arm around her shoulder and walked her into the foyer.
“I’m fine. You know how great everyone here is. This is…” she stopped, realizing saying this was the family she’d always wanted might hurt Lee, who had been her only real family before now.
“I know, what you’ve always wanted. I just want you to be careful. You give yourself away so easily, you’re bound to get hurt.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m not as trusting as you think. Is there some reason…I mean, I thought you loved…” She didn’t want to say his name.
“Sure, I do, but you’re my baby sister.” He hugged her. “Let’s go grab a cookie before Janice eats them all.”
“Okay,” she said. She laughed. Janice could pack it away, though it never showed. Must be nice to eat whatever you wanted and not get pudgy. Lita would never know.
7
Two months and Lita still didn’t feel settled. She smoothed her skirt and twisted her foot around. She didn’t know what they meant. She sat and tried to listen to Janice and Uncle Enzo explain all the parts of her father’s estate and Uncle Enzo’s plan to put his house in her name, a sort of living trust. She didn’t understand all the legal terms, but Lee sat with her and summed it up.
“Once you sign all these papers, you’ll be set for life, as long as you’re careful and don’t trust the wrong people.” Lee kept saying that these last two months, ever since she’d moved into Uncle Enzo’s. He didn’t understand that Lita needed to believe in goodness, that life was full of miracles.
“Not much chance of that. I have all of you to help me,” Lita said. She smiled at Uncle Enzo and Lee and even at a grimacing Janice. Lita was used to her sour faces after the last two months of family dinners, though Janice had only shown up twice. “Now I can finally get you a good Christmas present,” she said to Lee.
“Sending me to Hawaii?”
“I would.”
“Just kidding. I like all the homemade gifts you’ve given me. Don’t change.”
“I won’t.” Lita hugged everyone, even Janice. “How about dinner at Nick’s later this week?”
“Only if I get to return the favor for your birthday.”
Lita nodded as she and Uncle Enzo walked Lee and Janice to the front door.
Lita felt so grateful for her new home and family. She didn’t see her mother, Aunt Cass, or Emma anymore, but she still had Lee and now Uncle Enzo and all the DeGrazias and D’Angelos. Though there were some problems between the families—rumors of old arguments and betrayals--and she didn’t think Celeste’s son liked Uncle Enzo much.
/> She smiled as she looked at Uncle Enzo, glad he and Celeste were, sort of, dating. She guessed they loved each other. That was the missing piece for Lita.
“Going out with Jim D’Angelo again?” Uncle Enzo asked as they went into the kitchen.
“No, no one seems to ask me out more than once. I guess it’s just as well.” Joe’s cousin Jim was strong and silent, an extreme example of the D’Angelo men, who were all tough, determined, and protective. But Jim intimidated her, unlike his cousins Joe, Frankie, and Michael.
Lita filled the tea kettle in the deep sink. “Are you taking Celeste out?” Lita’s heart wasn’t in dating—it was still with Lorenzo. But he’d remained in Italy, never talking to her when he called Uncle Enzo, never answering her letters.
“No, and she’ll be leaving for a cruise with her friend from church later in the week. Mrs. Matthews won a trip for two and is taking Celeste.”
“That’s nice. Celeste told me she’s never had a real vacation.” Lita placed the kettle on the stove and watched the bluish flames flicker against the metal bottom.
“Yes, she deserves it.”
“But you’ll miss her.” She walked to Uncle Enzo.
“You’re getting to know me too well,” he said. He kissed her forehead and a contented warmth suffused her limbs.
“Have you heard from Lorenzo?” She destroyed her own contentment.
“Yes.” Uncle Enzo didn’t look happy anymore. “Maybe he’ll be back for Thanksgiving.”
“Maybe?” Her hand moved to her throat. She hadn’t realized how hopeful she’d been for Lorenzo’s return.
“Or he might want me to have Pete send all his things there.”
Lita turned and busied herself by rearranging the organized refrigerator. She wouldn’t upset Uncle Enzo by showing him how deeply she cared for Lorenzo.
“He’s not sure. Or rather he is sure, but…”
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