Francesca's Kitchen

by Peter Pezzelli

  “That’s the anise,” Francesca told her, taking one of the pizzelle for herself. “I’ve always loved that smell too.”

  As they nibbled on the pizzelle and sipped their tea, the women began to chat amiably about the incessant cold weather they had been experiencing that winter. Soon they were taking turns complaining about the icy roads, the appalling cost of keeping the house warm, and, of course, of the perils of the flu season. It wasn’t long, though, before the conversation brought them back around to the subject of their families.

  “You were telling me about your daughters before,” said Loretta. “How did they end up so far away?”

  “Work,” lamented Francesca. “You know how it is. Everybody thinks you have to go where there’s more money so you can have a better life. Nobody ever stops to think that part of having a better life is being close to your family. My daughters’ husbands both had good jobs right here in Rhode Island, but then one of them got a big promotion, and the other decided to go into business out of state, and before you knew it, they were moving all over the country. They had to go where the best opportunities were while they had the chance. At least, that’s what they’ve always told me. But who knows, maybe they were just trying to see how far away from me they could get. I can be a real pain sometimes.”

  “I’m sure that’s not it at all,” laughed Loretta.

  “Eh, you’d be surprised,” she said.

  “Well, from what you’ve told me, at least it seems like your children are all happily married,” said Loretta.

  “Ayyy, not all,” sighed Francesca. “My daughters are doing fine. But my son hasn’t settled down yet. That one’s still trying to sort out his life. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good boy. Smart. Hardworking.”

  “What’s the problem?” asked Loretta.

  Francesca hesitated for a moment. “Well, I’ll tell you,” she said at last. “He was all set to get married a few years ago. To a nice girl, or so, at least, I thought. Everybody seemed happy. Then three weeks before the wedding, right out of the blue, the whole thing got called off.”

  “What happened?”

  “You know, my son would never say a word about it, no matter how hard I tried to pry it out of him. But then two months later, I read in the paper that his fiancée had married some other guy. Six months after that, I see the birth announcement for their first child.” Francesca paused for effect, then gave a shrug. “So, you do the math.”

  “Oops,” said Loretta with a pained expression.

  “Oops is right,” Francesca went on. “Anyway, to this day, he still won’t talk about it. It’s sad.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out and shook her head. “But, life goes on. He’ll find his way. So tell me about you. What’s your story? How did all…all this happen?”

  “You mean, how did a nice girl like me end up raising two children all by herself?”

  Francesca shrugged and nodded.

  “Well, it’s a long story,” said Loretta.

  “There’s plenty of tea left,” noted the older woman.

  Loretta set her cup on its saucer and looked blankly toward the window. “Where would I even begin?” she wondered aloud.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your mother?” Francesca suggested.

  “Ah, my mother,” Loretta began with an ironic smile. “Well, I guess things started to fall apart for Mom and me after my father died. I was a teenager, and I was really close to him. Mom loved him too. I knew that. But two years later, when I was in high school, she got remarried, and I couldn’t stand her husband.”

  “What was wrong with him? Was he abusive?”

  “No, of course not,” said Loretta with a laugh. “He was as sweet as could be.”

  “Then what was the problem?”

  “Nothing,” admitted Loretta with a sad shake of her head. “Nothing at all, really. He just wasn’t my father, you see, and I guess I couldn’t deal with my mother just moving on with her life the way she did.”

  “Life has a way of dragging you forward, even when you want to stay put,” said Francesca.

  “I guess,” sighed Loretta. “Anyway, I went through this strange rebellious phase and pretty much made life miserable for everybody at home. I couldn’t seem to get along with anybody. It was always one argument after the other, if not with my mother, then with my brothers or my stepfather. Then I stopped going to church, and that drove my mother nuts, because she’s an old-fashioned Catholic—which I guess is why I did it. I at least managed to keep my grades up in school, so it was probably a big relief for them all when I finally went off to college. And that’s where I met David.”

  “Penny and Will’s father?”

  “That’s right,” said Loretta. “David was two years ahead of me when we met. He was young and good-looking, and full of philosophy and all these avant-garde theories about society and relationships and the uselessness of organized religion. I thought he was brilliant. Marriage, of course, was an anachronism to David, which, looking back, was probably a result of his coming from a broken home. But he had me convinced that it was enough for two people to just love one another, without all those useless formalities that society was always trying to impose on people. So, when he graduated, I quit school to go with him, thinking I could always go back someday to finish.”

  Here, Loretta paused to shake her head. She looked at Francesca and rolled her eyes. “Yeah,” she said with a wry grin, “I was a complete sucker.”

  “It happens,” said Francesca sympathetically.

  “Well, needless to say, my mother was apoplectic,” Loretta continued, “but I didn’t care. So we ended up here in Providence because David found a teaching job through one of his friends. We found a nice little apartment on the East Side. I was happy. He seemed happy. Everything was great, and about a year later, we decided to start a family. And that’s when Penny came along. A little over a year after that, I became pregnant again, which I’ll admit was something of a surprise. I was happy, though, when I found out, but David wasn’t. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I knew that he had been growing distant for a long while, ever since Penny had first been born. That very night when I had planned to tell him I was going to have another baby, David came home from school and told me that he needed to get away. He felt like he was suffocating from work and being a father, he said, and he just needed some time on his own to find himself again. Like I never felt the same thing sometimes.”

  “What happened when you told him about the baby?” asked Francesca.

  Loretta did not answer right away. Instead, she bowed her head and stared down into her teacup for a time, before looking back up at Francesca. “He didn’t want me to keep it,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper, her eyes starting to well up. She glanced at a picture frame on the wall that contained a collage of photographs of Will and Penny together from the time they were just toddlers. “Can you imagine it?” the young mother said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “No, I can’t,” confessed Francesca, her own eyes growing misty. She reached for a napkin and dabbed the corner of her eyes. “So, what happened next?”

  “I was furious,” said Loretta, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “I told him to go away and do whatever it was he had to do, and that I would take care of my children by myself. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it at least shamed him into staying for a while. It wasn’t long after, though, that he finally left—to go find himself.”

  “And did he?” asked Francesca.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Loretta. “He found himself all right. He found himself with another woman. She must have helped David forget all about marriage being an anachronism, because a year later, they got married and moved to Europe somewhere.”

  “Some men,” huffed Francesca, shaking her head angrily. “I just don’t know what planet they come from that they can do such things. So does he at least stay in touch with the children?”

  “What for?” shrugged Loretta. �
�Penny was a baby when he left, and Will wasn’t even born. Now and then, David used to send me money to help me take care of them, but I always threw it away. I guess he got the message to not bother anymore when he saw that the checks weren’t clearing—and so I haven’t heard a word from him since. It’s almost like I never met him at all. If it weren’t for Penny and Will, I’d wish that were true.”

  Francesca nodded, to show that she understood. She sat and listened quietly as Loretta went on to talk about her struggles over the years, trying to raise the two small children on her own. She did not want to interrupt, for the words were now pouring out of the woman, like water finally released from a dam that had for too long been on the verge of breaking. As she listened, Francesca was struck by the unmistakable tone of defiance and steely determination in the young mother’s voice. What impressed her most, though, was her sense of responsibility, her refusal to blame anyone else for the circumstances in which she had found herself, her willingness to go it all alone if she had to. Her pride.

  When Loretta finally finished, her eyes red-rimmed, she sank back on the couch, seemingly spent from the effort. Francesca could not help but beam a smile of admiration at her.

  “You know, I didn’t know it when I first came here,” she told her, “but you’re one tough broad.”

  Loretta forced a smile. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she sniffled. “Most days I feel like I’m barely keeping things together. I worry about everything, especially about the kids. Penny is growing up so fast and needs a father in her life who will be there for her. And poor Will, he just needs someone to toss a ball to him now and then. They’ve both missed out on so much because of me.”

  “Listen, honey,” said Francesca gently. “Before you go beating yourself up for no good reason, I think you should know that you’ve done a great job. You have two wonderful kids. They didn’t turn out that way by accident.”

  “Then why do I feel so guilty about everything?”

  “Why do you think?” laughed Francesca. “It’s because deep inside, you’re an old Catholic too. If you want to feel better, try going to confession. Works all the time for me.”

  “Oh, God, I haven’t been to church in a thousand years,” groaned Loretta. “The walls would fall down around me the second I stepped inside. I never even had the kids baptized.”

  “Well, at least you wouldn’t be at a loss for words in the confessional,” noted Francesca.

  “No, I suppose not,” sighed Loretta. She gazed pensively out the window for a moment. “But I don’t know how I could ever go back,” she said, “even if I wanted to. It’s too late for me.”

  “Nonsense. It’s never too late for anyone,” Francesca told her, “not if it’s something you really want.”

  “I don’t know,” said Loretta with another weary sigh. “Right about now, all I really want is to go to sleep for a couple of years and just let everything work itself out on its own.”

  “A couple of years might be hard to arrange,” laughed Francesca. “But I think a couple more good days of rest might work just as well. You’ll see, things will work themselves out. They always do, and never the way you expected, almost like magic.”

  With that, Francesca patted Loretta on the hand and began to collect the teacups and saucers. She squeezed them onto the tray along with the plate of pizzelle, and stood.

  “Well, that’s enough for today,” she said. “Now you should go back upstairs and get some rest, while I get dinner started. The kids should be home any minute. If you’re up to it, maybe tomorrow we’ll chat again, and we can both drag a few more skeletons out of our family closets.”

  “There’s plenty left in mine,” chuckled Loretta before adding, “But you know, I’d really like to help you with dinner, if I could. I mean, I am feeling a little better. It wouldn’t be too much.”

  “Well, there’s really not much to do,” replied Francesca. “The sauce is already made. All that’s left to do is boil some water for the macaroni.”

  “Hmm, boil some water,” said Loretta, thoughtfully scratching her chin as though she were pondering some great mystery. “Now I know it’s a stretch, but I think that’s something I might be able to handle…that is, if you show me how.”

  Francesca caught the mischievous sparkle in the young woman’s eyes. “Oh, yes,” she nodded, a playful gleam coming to her own eyes, “boiling water’s a perfect place to begin if you want to learn how to cook. Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  “Great,” smiled Loretta. “And maybe while we’re at it, you can tell me again how to make that sauce.”

  “Of course. Grab a pencil and paper. It’s the easiest recipe in the world.”

  Loretta was just pulling herself off the couch to follow Francesca’s lead when suddenly the front door burst open, and Penny and Will, laughing the whole way, came tumbling in. The two must have raced home from the bus stop, for they were all out of breath as they picked themselves up from the floor.

  “Hey!” shouted Loretta. “How many times have I told you guys not to come roughhousing through the door like that!”

  “It worked, Mrs. C! It worked!” cried Will, beaming with excitement. “I didn’t think it would when I went to bed last night, but I tried it anyway!”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” said Loretta, turning dumbfounded eyes to Francesca, who looked equally baffled.

  “Show them, dopie,” said Penny, giving her brother an elbow in the side.

  His eyeglasses sliding at an odd angle down his nose, Will pulled open the top of his backpack and reached in. “The bus driver said he found it under a seat,” he gushed as he rummaged through the sack.

  “Found what?” asked his mother, still perplexed by all the commotion.

  “Look!” the young boy cried triumphantly, holding up his lost math book for all to see.

  Francesca looked on, and smiled with deep satisfaction. Apparently, Saint Anthony had come through once again.

  CHAPTER 35

  Having spent the better part of the week in bed sleeping, Loretta awoke on Friday morning as reasonably refreshed as one might expect after enduring a bout with the flu. Unlike most mornings, when the obnoxious buzzing of the alarm clock was enough to plunge her into despair—and back under the blankets—on this day, she casually reached over and turned it off. Contrary to Francesca’s prediction, the additional hours of rest from taking an extra day off had not left Loretta feeling ten years younger. Happily, though, she realized that at least she no longer felt ten years older.

  Tugging her legs out from beneath the covers, Loretta set her feet on the floor and gazed out the window. Away to the east, the rising winter sun was still only a crescent of embers on the horizon. The rest of the outdoors was bathed in a muted glow, which gave the trees and the houses a soft, velvety quality. As she sat there, considering the scene, Loretta realized that there was a simple beauty to the dawn, one that she had somehow forgotten in her frenetic life. Despite the chill in the house and the temptation to crawl back into the warm confines of the bed, Loretta was glad to be awake to see it. With a yawn and a stretch, she got to her feet and went to wake up the kids for school. They, she reflected with a sigh, would not be so taken with the tranquil virtues of that early hour.

  “Come on, guys, up and at ’em!” she called, setting the merry-go-round once more in motion.

  When she arrived at work that morning, Loretta stopped by Mr. Pace’s office before going to her desk. The door was ajar, but as expected, the senior partner was not yet in. Stealing inside, she left the thank-you note she had written atop his desk, leaning against the telephone, where he was sure to see it. Then she hurried off to get her workday started.

  “What are you doing here?” asked a surprised Shirley a little while afterwards, when she happened by Loretta’s desk. “It’s Friday. I thought for sure you were going to call it a week and just stay home till Monday. Believe me, that’s what I would have done.”

  “The thought di
d cross my mind,” admitted Loretta.

  Shirley shook her head disapprovingly. “You know, chances like that don’t come around very often,” she said. “Well, I hope you’re at least feeling all better.”

  “Pretty much,” said Loretta. “I suppose I could have milked it for one more day, but I thought it would be good to come in and get caught up a little bit today so that I’m not so far behind on Monday.” Then, taking on a pious air, she playfully added, “But what can I say? I guess I’m just a workaholic.”

  “Oh, right,” chuckled her friend. “My guess, is you’re planning to meet someone for lunch.”

  “I only wish,” sighed Loretta.

  “Too bad you didn’t come in yesterday,” said Shirley. “You’re old friend Ned Hadley was here.”

  “Really,” replied Loretta coolly. “He didn’t by chance trip and fall down a flight of stairs or anything like that?”

  “Sorry,” laughed Shirley. “He managed to stay on his feet for the whole day, as far as I could see.” Then, with an impish gaze, she said, “I did hear that he was asking for you.”

  “Oh, goodie,” replied Loretta, her already-sour expression turning into one of complete disdain.

  “So, I take it by that look on your face that you’re not going to give him another chance?”

  “Oh, please,” huffed Loretta. “I went out with him once, and then I got sick as a dog for a week. I’m taking that as a sign to stay away.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Loretta went on, “I think I’m planning on staying away from men in general for a while.”

  “Ha!” scoffed Shirley. “Good luck making that last.”

  “Well, it’s at least worth a try,” said Loretta, herself skeptical of the odds. “At least for this weekend.”

  “Don’t even worry about this weekend, honey,” said Shirley. “All every guy in America is thinking about this week is the stupid football game on Sunday.”

  “That’s right,” laughed Loretta. “I forgot all about the Super Bowl. Not that I care anyway. I never even watch it.”