by Paula Kay
There it was. The thought that haunted her. She didn’t need a therapist to tell her that she was wrestling with a huge amount of guilt. Guilt that she probably really needed to figure out how to let go of. She sighed. Why did everything feel so difficult?
She entered the inn and made her way up to the bed that had become a comfort to her lately. She crawled under the covers telling herself that she would sort it all out in her head soon—after a long nap.
Lia awoke a few hours later feeling groggy and disoriented. Suddenly famished, she made her way downstairs to see if she could help Elena out in the kitchen. Entering the room, she grabbed an apron that was hanging near the door, not waiting for an invitation to pitch in.
“Lia, I was just thinking maybe I’d come upstairs to check on you. You’ve been sleeping a lot, si? Are you feeling okay?” said Elena.
Lia smiled at the older woman, thinking to herself how lucky she was having such concerned people in her life.
“Si, I’m okay. Just so very tired these days.” She tried to smile, because the last thing she wanted at the moment was to share her depression with someone. “I’d love to help with dinner, if you don’t mind?” She was already making her way to the cutting board to start on the salad that looked to be underway.
“Si, of course. But you can also just sit and talk with me if you like. I don’t want you to feel like you have to work while you are here. We are supposed to be taking care of you, my dear.” Elena laughed, and Lia noticed that being in the kitchen with Elena made her miss Gigi back home.
“No, it is good for me, really.” She smiled broadly to reinforce her position. “I love to cook.” Well, normally I love cooking, she thought.
The two women worked side-by-side, each lost in her own thoughts. Lia sipped the wine that Elena had poured for her, and she realized that she was almost feeling a sense of normality and happiness.
“Elena, I’d love to cook the dinner tomorrow night, if you don’t mind? I can go shopping in the morning, and if it’s okay I’ll prepare my favorite pasta dish. It’s been ages since I’ve made it and suddenly I have a real craving.”
‘Si, that would be lovely.” Elena looked at her with an odd expression. “If you’re sure. And of course I will help you. We can do it together.”
“That would be great, grazie.”
“No, it’s I that should be thanking you. We’ve never really had a guest pitch in to help with the meals.” Elena laughed as Franco breezed through the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine, stopping to taste the sauce his wife was preparing and giving her a quick pat on the behind.
“The only thing better than my lovely wife in the kitchen is two lovely women in the kitchen.” Franco laughed and scooted out of the room before Elena could snap him with the towel she was holding.
“Men,” Elena said, laughing. “Forgive me for prying, but is there someone special in your life?”
Lia’s heart quickened briefly as she tried to think of how much to divulge. “No, I’ve been single for a long time. It’s hard to imagine not being single, and at my age—well, let’s just say that there aren’t a lot of suitors lined up at my door.” She laughed, hoping that Elena would drop the subject.
“Well, bella. You must get out more, no? You are not going to meet them stuck in your room all day.” She glanced at Lia, who was trying not to look cross. “Ah, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, as you say. Please forgive me. It’s just that you are so beautiful. Any man should be so lucky to escort you to dinner.”
Lia smiled and gave Elena a quick hug. “It’s okay. And please don’t take my silence for anger. It’s just been a hard year and, really, dating has been the last thing on my mind, I guess. But when I’m ready—maybe I will let you know, and you and Franco will have lots of amazing handsome Italian men to set me up with.” Lia laughed and hoped that she had closed the subject.
Seemingly satisfied with Lia’s response, Elena brought out the serving dishes, heaping the plates high with thinly sliced beef and thick home-made pasta. She filled another bowl with the sweet-smelling sauce that had been simmering on the stove and took the fresh bread out of the oven. Lia grabbed the salad and the two of them went out to the dining room, ready to call the few guests that were there to the table for dinner.
Lia loved the Italian way of life, especially when it came to food and eating. There was always more than enough food prepared, so that no matter who might stop by or what random stranger might get an invitation to dine, there was always plenty of food. And wine, she thought as Elena poured her a second glass.
The small group of them sat down to a dinner that ran well into the evening. Before she knew it, Lia was enjoying the conversation and feeling almost normal again. Perhaps Carlo had been right after all and she just needed a few “normal” days at home, sleeping, cooking, and getting at least a bit of exercise each day. It was funny that she thought of the inn as her home. She’d have to remember to have a conversation with Elena later about staying for at least another week, as she wasn’t nearly ready to make decisions about a house just yet. She guessed it would be fine, as they didn’t seem to be too busy at the moment; she felt that they would welcome her stay there for as long as she liked. She smiled again at her luck in choosing the inn as a place to stay.
The next day, Lia got up early, finally making the time for the morning walk that she’d been promising herself. When she returned home, she and Elena took the car to the big market for some food shopping for Lia’s dinner that night. Lia loved the market and all of the fresh Italian ingredients that she preferred to use in her cooking. She was having so much fun that she forgot herself for the moment, something that hadn’t happened a lot to her lately.
She really enjoyed Elena’s company and hoped that the two women would continue to be friends after she moved out of the inn. Thinking about it now, though, caused her a slight feeling of anxiety. She brushed it aside. There’d be time for thinking about a place to live later. For now, she was content to stay at the inn among her new friends.
As promised, Elena was by her side in the kitchen all afternoon, as Lia prepared the evening meal. She was making tagliatelle bolognese, her favorite dish, and the two women were sipping a glass of Chianti. Lia smiled and then realized that the quick flash of memory that she had of her daughter brought her joy and not sadness for once.
She caught Elena staring at her out of the corner of her eye. “Bella, you look so happy. Here, in the kitchen. It is the place where you belong.”
Lia laughed. “I am happy, Elena. Grazie.” She gave the woman a quick hug.
“I love having you here. I really do. But I can’t help but think that maybe it’s time for you to be back at the restaurant?” Elena said, and Lia thought she detected carefulness in her friend’s voice. “You’re such a good cook. I feel that we are keeping you from the world here at the inn.” The two women laughed at her comment.
“Well, I don’t know about the world, Elena.” Lia smiled. “But perhaps you are right about Thyme. I should go back tomorrow. I’m ready, and it’s not right that Carlo is there without me.”
Lia felt that she had crossed a hurdle that night, sitting in the dining room enjoying the meal that she and Elena had prepared. She definitely felt ready to get back to work. At least she thought that she could now be at the restaurant without bursting into tears every ten minutes. Poor Carlo. She shook her head at what she must have been putting him through those last days she was there. He probably didn’t know what to think, and she wouldn’t blame him for being concerned about the restaurant and wondering if Lia was going to be able to keep the place. But she knew that it was what she wanted. Yes, she still did feel sad but she had to keep moving forward, and going in to the restaurant was the first step in making that happen. Lia went to bed that night with a new determination and a plan for the next day.
Chapter 13
When Lia walked into the restaurant the next morning, Sofia greeted her warmly with a hug, and a kiss on
each cheek. “Lia, it’s so good to see you. How are you doing?”
“And you, lovely girl.” Lia smiled warmly at the beautiful waitress, who was always so pleasant to be around. “I’m well, grazie. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing very good too.” Sofia said in the broken English that Lia found delightful. “It has been very busy.”
“Well, I’m here to help today—and from now on.” Lia smiled. “Is your uncle in the kitchen?”
“Si, he is starting on the pasta for the lunch crowd.”
Lia made her way into the kitchen, grabbing an apron and making Carlo jump as she called out a big hello to him.
He laughed. “You startled me, but I am so happy to see you.” He kissed her on the cheek and then stepped back for a moment. “You look happy and rested, si?”
Lia smiled at his scrutiny, remembering the patience he’d had to show during her first few days in the restaurant. She was determined not to put the poor man through her emotional distress again today.
“Si, I am, Carlo. You were right about my needing a few days off, and I think it was good for me. Very sorry to put you through my meltdown earlier in the week.”
Carlo looked at her with a confused expression on his face. “Meltdown? I don’t understand this word.”
Lia laughed. “Meltdown. Crying, sobbing, losing my mind.”
He nodded in understanding. “Ah, not to worry. I am happy that you are feeling better—and now we can get on with some cooking, si?”
“Si, I’m very happy to start in on the lunch service with you now,” Lia said as she rolled up her sleeves and got to work with the dough that was lying on the table. “It is good to be here.”
The two worked side-by-side, making the fresh pasta and working on the different sauces that Carlo had cooking on the stove. Lia thought that it did feel great to be back in the kitchen. She must always remember to turn to cooking when she wasn’t quite feeling herself. How was it that she had even forgotten that?
Towards the end of lunch service, when it had slowed down quite a bit, Sofia entered the kitchen to let Lia know that there was someone there to see her.
“Is it Elena, from the inn?” Lia asked, sure that it must be her.
“No, not Elena. An American woman I think. With pretty red hair. And a very handsome Italian with her.” Sofia laughed.
Lia walked to the sink to wash her hands, thinking that it would be good to see Rebecca again. She was ready for a little company, and she was happy that Rebecca had made the trip to come see her. She had quite enjoyed their brief conversation on the plane, and thought she might look forward to getting to know the woman who had also chosen to make Tuscany her home.
Lia walked up behind Rebecca as she said a cheerful hello. Rebecca turned to give her a big hug, and the man beside her turned towards Lia as well.
“Lia, it’s so good to see you.” Rebecca smiled brightly. “This is my husband, Marco. Marco, this is Lia.”
Lia and Marco reached for one another’s hands, a sudden look of recognition passing between them. Lia felt sick and willed herself to speak normally.
“Lia, is it really you?” Marco asked, his eyes wide; Rebecca looked puzzled beside him.
“Marco, wow.” Lia tried to find her voice. “It’s been so long.”
“Wait a minute. You two know each other? How?” Rebecca chimed in, looking completely shocked herself.
Marco turned towards his wife. “You know my cousin Antonio?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Lia and Antonio went together when we were young.”
Rebecca nodded her head. “Oh wow. That’s a crazy coincidence. Funny that we didn’t put that together on the plane.”
Lia found her voice. “I know you said your husband’s name was Marco, but it just never really occurred to me. Have a seat, please.” Lia gestured towards the table, feeling like she needed to have a seat. And possibly a stiff drink.
“How is it that you are here, Lia? I mean, Rebecca told me that you are running Thyme now?” Marco said.
“Oh, that’s a long story. Maybe for another time,” Lia added. “But yes, I am here to run the restaurant,” she said carefully.
“And Antonio? Have you spoken to him?”
“No, no, Marco. Not for many years.” Lia could hear her voice growing quieter. “Actually not since I left for America when we were young.”
She hardly knew what to say and was trying to act normal. “When I came back one time—it was when my father was ill. I’d heard that he was getting married, so I never tried to contact him. How is he doing?” she asked, just because it seemed the polite thing to say.
“No, he never got married.” Marco said.
Lia’s heart caught in her throat, not knowing if the news she was hearing was good or bad.
“He’s been living in Rome for years, but—actually he’s moving back here,” Marco said suddenly, reaching for his phone. “I will give you his number. You should phone him. He’d be so surprised to hear from you.” Marco grinned widely.
“No, no. Please don’t tell him I’m here, Marco.” The words sounded slightly panicked, even to Lia’s ear, but she couldn’t stop them. She noticed the perplexed look on Rebecca’s face. “It’s just that—well, I have so much to take care of right now. I’m not quite ready to speak to him,” she tried to explain, knowing that the words sounded silly.
“But Lia. He would love to see you. I know he would. We speak quite often, and he’s wondered about you over the years.”
Marco seemed so sure of his words, which made Lia panic even more. God, she wasn’t ready to see Antonio at all. She didn’t know if she ever would be, but now that she knew his circumstances, she felt the dread of the inevitable. There would come a day where she’d have to tell him about her past. About Arianna. The thought filled her with terror and she felt physically sick to her stomach. She turned to Rebecca, hoping that she could convey the importance of what she was saying by the look on her face.
“Please promise me that you won’t tell him—not yet. I will speak to him soon. I will,” she said to Marco, but it was Rebecca who reached out to her.
“Don’t worry, Lia. We won’t mention anything.” She turned pointedly to Marco. “And we’ll keep our nose out of your business as well. Right, honey?”
Marco nodded and kissed Rebecca lightly on the lips. “If you say so, but every day I grow more confused by you—you women.”
Lia and Rebecca laughed, and Lia was thankful for the change of tone in the conversation.
“Now, have you two eaten? What can I get for you?” Lia asked, wanting to return to the kitchen to collect her thoughts.
“We’ve ordered from the waitress already. Our favorite pasta dish,” Rebecca said.
Lia got up from the table. “I’ll just go check on that for you.” She motioned for Sofia. “Sofia will bring you some bread and get your drinks.”
Lia rushed off to the kitchen, thankful for the distraction. She took a few deep breaths, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions, as she felt that she was about to pass out from the shock of the news that she’d heard.
She always knew in the back of her mind that one day she might run into Antonio again. Even though she knew his parents had also passed away a few years ago, he came from a big family, and it wasn’t reasonable to think that his name wouldn’t come up at some point. But she wasn’t prepared for the fact that he wasn’t married. That he’d never gotten married. She’d always imagined him with a big family, living far enough away in Rome, where she had heard his fiancée was from.
She took another deep breath. At least now she would be somewhat prepared. She didn’t completely trust that Marco wouldn’t tell Antonio that she was here, even though he’d promised her that he wouldn’t. He’d have no reason to think it was such a big deal. The last Marco knew of their relationship, they were practically kids, hanging out, going on double dates together, without a care in the world. He didn’t know about the secrets. Or the heartac
he Lia had caused. And now she’d have to deal with even more. She knew there would come a day that she’d have to tell Antonio everything. She just didn’t want it to be so soon.
Lia tried to brush her new fears aside as she took the plates of pasta to her waiting guests in the restaurant. She’d cross the bridge when she needed to. There was no sense getting all worked up about it now. God knew, she didn’t need to put poor Carlo through watching her angst again.
She left Rebecca and Marco to enjoy their meal; she went back to the kitchen to help Carlo clean up and start preparing for the dinner service, which would be happening before they knew it. Carlo had told her that the restaurant had been really busy, and she was happy for that. She knew that it was probably better for her mind to be focused on work, so she welcomed the distraction that it would bring. If she could just focus on the restaurant, maybe her pain would lessen. She knew that she’d never forget about Arianna or the memories. She didn’t want that. She just knew that somehow her grieving—and hopefully her guilt—would lessen over time.
Rebecca called out to her in the kitchen that they were leaving. Lia went to give her friends a hug and thank them for coming.
“I’d love to get together. Maybe we could go for a walk or you could take a night off to grab dinner with me some time,” Rebecca said, pulling her phone out of her handbag. “Let’s exchange numbers anyway so that we can get a hold of one another.”
Lia gave Rebecca her information and put her number into the new phone that she’d finally got around to purchasing a few days before. She felt skeptical about her new friendship now, if she was being honest with herself. But it wasn’t fair to Rebecca or to her, really. Maybe they could maintain a friendship without Antonio’s name coming up. Maybe one day she’d feel comfortable enough with Rebecca to tell her the story. Well, it was hard to imagine being able to share the whole story with her. Very few people actually knew it. But maybe this was to be part of the healing process for Lia. She’d remain open.