by Bev Prescott
Alfonso cut a small wedge of asiago from its wheel. “Your grandmother was one of the best cooks in all of the North End. When I was a boy, the special dishes she always cooked for us were my favorite part of coming home from school each day. I hope she is cooking until her last day. That would surely make her happy. She is a lovely woman, Isabella.” He carefully wrapped the cheese. “The apple did not fall far from the tree with you. You must have potential suitors lining up for miles. Why are you not married yet?”
Sophia looked disapprovingly at her father. “Papa, that’s kind of a personal question.” She looked to Isabella, “I’m sorry. He never stops asking me that question, either. It gets old after a while. I know.”
“I keep asking you even though I already know the answer to the question. You’re too independent. Plus, you frighten men away because you’re so bossy.” Alfonso grinned at Sophia. “And successful, of course. It’s hard to find a man who isn’t intimidated by such a beautiful and capable woman as you, my daughter. Don’t worry, I want you to wait until you find a husband who is worthy of you.”
The annoyance on Sophia’s face softened at her father’s statement about her being bossy and unmarried. She put her arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “I’m waiting for a man to come along who is worthy not only of me, but of being your son-in-law as well.”
Listening to Alfonso and Sophia talking about the ideal husband made Isabella think about Ben. He was certainly worthy. Most fathers, including her own, would be thrilled to have him as a son-in-law. Unbidden, thoughts of Madison intruded. “I hope I’ll know when the right person for me comes along,” Isabella said.
Alfonso stopped putting things in the bag. “You will know, my child. There will be no question in your mind. Your heart will tell you in feelings and emotions that will be unmistakable. When I met Sophia’s mother, I knew as soon as our eyes met.”
Isabella imagined a young Alfonso meeting the love of his life and the romantic notion of falling in love at first sight. The idea of having an instant, unbreakable bond to another human being was what she longed for. More nagging questions about Madison surfaced. Isabella knew she’d felt a connection to her the instant they met. The trouble was that Madison was a her, not a him.
“How is Aunt Rosa, anyway?” Isabella asked.
Before Alfonso answered, the bell over the door rang again, signaling another customer entering the market. He raised his arms in greeting.
Sophia leaned over the counter and said to Isabella, “It’s your sister, Maria. Guess you’re going to have that conversation about your eye here and now.” She gave Isabella a knowing smile. “I’ll try to intervene… if can get a word in edgewise.”
“With Maria, that could be tough. It’s probably best I get it over with before John’s dinner next Friday night anyway.” Isabella looked back over her shoulder. Her larger-than-life sister was coming toward her. Maria was the picture of a beautiful, charismatic, Italian woman. Her mere presence silenced a room as soon as she stepped into it.
Alfonso hurried from behind the counter to hug and kiss her. “Ah, my brother’s two beautiful daughters in my shop at the same time. I’m finishing up with Isabella’s order. Then Maria, I will get the manicotti you called about earlier.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” Maria looked at Isabella. “Ben told me you were attacked again at the shelter, but he didn’t tell me how bad it was. You look awful. When are you ever going to grow tired of that terrible place? It’s too dangerous. I wish you’d consider letting Ben take you away from it all. Trust me, being a wife and mother is far less hazardous.”
Maria hugged Isabella and then took a step back and studied her more closely. “I know you don’t like to wear makeup, but you really should consider using a little to cover up that bruising. Why don’t you come over this afternoon? We’ll go to the spa together. The girls should be able to do something to hide that thing. It’ll be my treat.” She picked up one of Isabella’s hands. “You could use a manicure, too. Your hands are starting to look like Nana’s.”
“I love my job, Maria, and I wasn’t attacked. It was an accident that was actually my fault. Ben is overreacting about the whole thing.” She reached for a jar of capers on the shelf next to her and tried to appear nonchalant. “I can’t go to the spa with you. I already have plans for later.”
Maria examined the white truffle and expensive bottle of Barolo on the counter. “My little sister is doing some special shopping for dinner. Are you having a guest over by any chance?”
“What gives you that idea? Isn’t it possible that I’m treating myself to a nice home-cooked meal? I have to eat, too, you know.”
“Sure, but I know you’re not telling me everything.” Maria gave her a probing stare and tapped her own chin. “Let me see, you’re buying, among other things, white tartuffe and an expensive bottle of wine. I suspect you aren’t planning on dining alone. Is my sister making Nana’s white truffle pasta for the handsome Ben Jackson? Remember what Nana always says about seducing men with pasta made with truffles, especially imported white truffles from Italy. Is there a special occasion you want to tell me about?”
Isabella was mortified. How in the world was she going to tell her sister that their Nana’s man-seducing pasta recipe wasn’t for Ben? It wasn’t even for another man, but for a woman whom she hardly knew. Isabella’s cheeks flushed. This is ridiculous. Why should I feel guilty about making dinner for Madison? Besides, my sister doesn’t have to know everything that I do.
“Isabella, are you all right? Why is your face so red all of a sudden?” Maria’s eyes opened wide. “Wait a second, are you dating someone other than Ben? Is that why you’re acting so weird?” She pulled Isabella away from the counter, out of earshot of Alfonso and Sophia. “You know how much I adore Ben, but if you want to date other guys, that’s up to you. Just don’t keep him hanging on if you’re not serious about him. No matter what, I want you to be happy. Now tell me what’s going on.”
Isabella didn’t want to lie to her sister, but she wasn’t about to tell the whole truth, either. “No, Ben isn’t coming to dinner, and I’m not dating anyone else.” She stepped nearer to the counter and reached for the bag of groceries that Alfonso had packed for her. “I’ve invited the nurse from the VA clinic who took care of my eye over for dinner. I wanted to do something nice for her to say thank you.”
“I think that’s a very sweet thing of you to do. I don’t understand why you’re so nervous about it, though. Are you sure everything’s all right?” Maria asked.
Isabella wished she were better at hiding her emotions from her sister. “Everything is fine. I promise. It’s been an overwhelming week, that’s all.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Madison will be over at six. I need to make the pasta. I’m glad I ran into you.” She hugged Maria, paid Alfonso, and thanked him and Sophia. “I’ll see you all next Friday night.” She practically ran out the door.
Chapter 6
The doorbell rang at six o’clock. Like the good soldier she was, Capt. Madison Brown was precisely on time. Isabella smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt and hurried toward the door. As she reached for the deadbolt she slowed her pace. Eager anticipation wasn’t necessary. This wasn’t a date.
She opened the door and stood transfixed. Whether Madison was wearing a uniform, scrubs, gym clothes, or faded jeans, it didn’t matter. The result was the same. “Is there anything you don’t look good in?”
Madison smiled. “That’s an interesting greeting. Is it your way of saying you think I look nice?”
“I don’t make a habit of saying this to women, and I hope you don’t mind my saying it to you, but I think you’re gorgeous.” Isabella stood in the doorway taking in the sight in front of her. The powder blue, button-down shirt that Madison wore brought out the blue of her eyes. The wide leather belt accented her tall body and slender waist.
“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment. You look nice, too.” Madison moved the bouquet of flowers
she carried and tucked it under her arm. She rubbed her hands together and then put them into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Do you mind if I come in? It was a chilly walk over from the parking garage.”
“I’m sorry to leave you standing out there. My mother would be mortified by my lack of etiquette.”
Madison stepped into the condo unit. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.” She held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”
“They’re lovely. Thank you.” Isabella took them and breathed in their fragrance. “They smell wonderful, like spring, my favorite season. It was sweet of you to bring them.” She laid the flowers on the bureau next to the door. “Can I take your jacket?”
“Sure, thanks.” Madison slipped it off and handed it to her.
When she did, their hands brushed and once again, Isabella was overwhelmed with feelings she couldn’t categorize. She fumbled with the simple task of hanging Madison’s jacket in the closet. “Please, have a seat on the sofa while I put the flowers in water. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“I’d like that.”
Madison surveyed the room from the sofa. She felt a definite sense of peacefulness. The place hummed with Isabella’s charm and energy. On her way in, she’d noted that the outside of the building couldn’t hide its age, which was probably more than a hundred years. Despite that, the inside was a modern, open floor plan. A small island separated the living room from the kitchen. She could see the cherrywood kitchen cabinets and marble countertop from where she sat. A muted shade of green, the color of leaves in late summer, covered the walls, which were adorned with a number of tasteful paintings of wildflowers.
An Italian opera played softly in the background. Smells from the kitchen reminded her that breakfast was a long time ago, and her growling stomach would be an embarrassment if it continued to rumble the way it was.
Photographs in frames occupied almost every inch of available space atop end tables and other furniture in the room. One was of Isabella in a graduation cap and gown. She was flanked by two beaming people, and from the strong resemblance Isabella bore to both of them, Madison suspected they were her parents. She shared her mother’s long auburn hair, loose curls, and facial features. Isabella’s emerald green eyes and Mediterranean skin tone came from her father.
The photograph that intrigued her most sat on the end table in a walnut frame. A large group of people stood arm in arm or holding hands like they were the happiest clan in the world. The same family characteristics she’d noted in the graduation picture were evident in every person in the photo. One of the men in the picture was a priest, and even he looked like a Parisi. The vegetation and buildings in the background didn’t look like anyplace in New England Madison had ever seen. A family vacation, I bet.
Melancholy seeped through her. The unbreakable bonds of family. She wondered whether such a thing truly existed. Her experience with love was that it always came with strings attached. It was never unconditional. She’d learned that being alone was preferable to living in the shadow of a family that contorted her into something she wasn’t. She looked at the photo again. Maybe Isabella’s family was different.
Isabella came into the room and placed a vase with the flowers on the coffee table. She carried an open bottle of wine and two glasses. She sat next to Madison and poured them each a glass of Barolo. “Thanks again for the flowers. I can hardly wait for spring when they’re everywhere. I’m ready for the cold weather to be gone.” She handed Madison a glass of wine.
With Isabella so close, Madison got a subtle whiff of her perfume. She wanted to inch closer so she could breathe her in. She took a sip of wine. “Me, too. My wildflower garden is already calling me. Putting my hands in dirt and growing something from a speck of seed is one of my most favorite things.” She nodded toward the photograph. “Is that your family?”
Isabella picked up the framed photo. “Yes, this was taken a few years ago in Barbaresco, Italy. My brother John is a priest there. It’s one of my favorites. It captures the memory of our time there perfectly. We had so much fun on that trip. My grandfather was still alive then, too.”
Isabella scooted nearer to Madison. She pointed as she described each person. “This is John, of course. These are my parents and paternal grandparents, my sister, Maria, and her husband, Anthony, with their two children, Spencer and Amanda. And this is my brother Michael with his girlfriend, Sarah.” Isabella put the photograph back. “John will be arriving in town next week. He’ll be here most of the summer. Michael and Sarah are getting married, and John will officiate. I can’t wait to see him. It’s been such a long time.”
“You sound like a close family.”
“We are. They’re my world.”
“Other than John, do you all live in Boston?”
Isabella turned so she was facing Madison. She took another sip of wine. “Yes. We’ve always been here, except for the four years we lived in Colorado when my father was in the Air Force. I was a baby then, so I don’t remember it. How about you? Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“No, thank goodness.”
Isabella lingered over her next sip of wine. “That was a quick response. I’ve always thought that having siblings is a lot of fun. I should invite you to my parents’ home one day when we’re all under the same roof, to prove my point.”
“I’m sure brothers and sisters can be a gift. But my parents didn’t like each other much.” Madison paused. “Let me rephrase that. They despised each other. In the grand scheme of things, it was probably a good thing they only produced one accident during their marriage.”
“I take it they didn’t exactly plan on having you,” Isabella said.
“No. I’m the product of raging teenage hormones and overbearing grandparents. Abortion wasn’t an option in either of their families. I was born a month after they got married. Dad gave up boxing to work in the mill, and my mother never went to college like she dreamed of. As best I can remember it, they were never happy.”
“Do you see your mother much?”
“No, we don’t care for each other’s company. She has too many expectations of me that I can’t live up to.” Again Madison waited a moment before continuing. “My father couldn’t live up to her expectations of him, either, so he drank himself to death. I remember the night he left home drunk and never came back. They found his truck overturned in a ditch along the highway.”
“When we were at the gym, you told me he died when you were in high school. That’s an awful thing to have happen at such a young age.” Isabella touched Madison’s shoulder.
“I’m probably telling you too much.”
“No, you aren’t. I’m glad you feel you can be honest with me. Whatever happened to you is truth as you know it, and I want to know your truths.”
“Thank you, Isabella.”
“It’s really none of my business, but I can’t help thinking your mother is foolish. What more could she want of you? You’re a successful nurse and a captain in the Army. You’re kind, smart, and beautiful. I think you’re amazing.”
“Coming from you, that means a lot, because I think you’re amazing, too.”
Isabella rose from the sofa. “Okay, now we know where we stand with each other.” She took Madison’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “I hope you’re hungry. Dinner is ready.”
Madison feared her feet had turned to lead but managed to follow Isabella. “Can I help with anything?”
Isabella led her to the dining room table. “No, you sit while I bring things in from the kitchen.”
Madison stole a glance at her hand. She was sure the feel of Isabella’s hand in hers had left scorch marks. “Have you lived in your condo a long time?”
Isabella took two small casserole dishes out of the oven and placed them on the table next to a salad. “Only a year or so. It belonged to my grandparents before that. After my grandfather died, my grandmother went to live with my parents. She wanted one of us kids to keep it so that it would stay in th
e family. I’ve always loved the North End. My father helped me with a mortgage so I could buy it on a social worker’s salary.”
“It’s enchanting,” Madison said. Like you.
“I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” Isabella sat across from Madison and gestured at the various dishes. “First we have the insalata di finocchi ed agrumi, which is a fennel and orange salad, then for the first course, we have baked fennel with prosciutto and asiago, also known in Italian as finocchi alla asiago con prosciutto. And then finally, we have my grandmother’s famous tartufo pasta.” She passed Madison the salad bowl.
Madison took a portion of each item as Isabella offered them. After the first couple of bites, she wasn’t sure what was more delicious: the food, or the way the Italian words slid off Isabella’s lips like a sexy purr. “This is fantastic. You really didn’t have to go to this much trouble for me.” She savored another bite. “But I do appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I wanted to do something nice for you. I’m glad you like it.”
Madison finished another mouthful. “I’m curious about something. How did you get involved with veterans? Were you in the military?”
“No, I’m definitely not the type. I hate to make my bed in the morning. Forget about the business of being able to bounce a quarter on it. That’s never going to happen.”
Madison stifled inappropriate thoughts conjured by the image of Isabella and her messy bed in the same mental picture. “You’re funny. Why your devotion to veterans, then?” She took another bite of the salad.
“I work with veterans because of David Cutter—the fellow you met that morning when I slipped on the ice—and because of the things that happened on September eleventh. I was still in college and doing an internship at the VA clinic. A classmate of mine was flying to California to visit her dying grandmother and had asked me to take notes for her. I’ll never forget that morning. I had gone to the student center for a cup of coffee before class. A crowd was gathered around the big screen TV. We all watched, stunned, as the second plane hit the North Tower. My classmate was on that flight.”