Love of a Lifetime

by Carol Voss

  “She needs you, Tony. She’s just too proud to admit it.”

  “Oh, come on. She doesn’t need me any more than she ever did. What a joke to think I could fix things and put this place behind me once and for all.”

  Maggie took a step back, mouth open, eyes wide. She looked…stunned.

  “What? You were there. Nonna and I still can’t be in the same room without tearing into each other. Obviously, I don’t know how to change that.”

  She gave him a pinched look, as if trying to decide how best to deal with him.

  He hated being dealt with. He crammed the vase of flowers into her hand, turned on his heel and strode for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to Brazil.” He kept on walking.

  She bolted in front of him and blocked his way, holding the vase of flowers out like a barrier.

  He grasped her shoulders to keep from running her over.

  “You can’t march in and get her all upset, then leave. Instead of helping her, you’ll only add to her problems. If you don’t make this right, I’ll never speak to you again.” The set of her lips told him she meant it.

  A sinking feeling hollowed out the pit of his stomach. Even after all these years, Maggie’s opinion of him still mattered. A lot more than he wanted it to.

  He especially hated that she was right.

  He owed Nonna big-time. If she hadn’t taken him in, he had no idea who his dad would have dumped him with when he’d had his fill of parenting. Sure, Tony had locked horns with her over just about everything, but she’d never turned her back on him. Without her, who knew what path his anger might have taken? What kind of man he’d be?

  He’d come back to make things right with Nonna, but was that even possible? Maybe he should just make arrangements for her to live out her life in a comfortable, safe place, then leave.

  But that wouldn’t take care of the guilt that weighed him down like a sack of cement. If he left without giving his relationship with Nonna his best shot, he’d fail her, he’d fail Maggie and he’d fail himself. And he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

  Didn’t he already have more than his share of regrets?

  Chapter Three

  Nearing seven-thirty, Maggie walked into Jessie’s Main Street Diner, very aware of Tony on her heels. How she would get through the week with him underfoot, she didn’t know. It would be so much easier to let him leave, if she wasn’t completely convinced Stella needed him.

  And he needed Stella even if he hadn’t figured that out yet. Whether he and his nonna could let go of their old arguments and find each other, she didn’t know that either. But she did know she had to put aside her own feelings and try to help.

  The familiar rattle of dishes boosted her spirits a tad, and she took a deep breath of mouthwatering aromas of fried burgers with onions, roast beef and her favorite, chicken potpie. At least, her growling stomach assured her that her light-headedness might have less to do with Tony and more to do with her forgetting to eat lunch.

  A few people she knew sat at the long counter, probably having dessert because it was well past dinner hour. One of the new booths was occupied with a middle-aged couple she didn’t know. Tourists, she guessed. She glanced at Tony. “What do you think of the changes to the diner?”

  He frowned. “It’s bigger.”

  “Della knocked out a wall or two.”

  “If this is Della’s place, why is ‘Jessie’s Main Street Diner’ on the sign out front?”

  “Because Della sold it to Jessie, then Jess got married and moved to Madison. She’s very happy, but I miss her like crazy. Anyway, Della bought back the diner, but she thought it would just be too confusing to change it back to Della’s Diner.”

  “More confusing than it is now?” With a shake of his head, he grasped Maggie’s elbow, guided her to a red booth and glumly settled opposite her.

  Obviously, he was thinking about his disastrous meeting with Stella. He hadn’t wanted to stop at the diner. Maggie had insisted, food only one of her reasons. She wanted to introduce him to Hannah. Besides, the diner was Noah’s Crossing’s communal living room. A place where people came to hear and share news as much as to eat, and everybody left feeling better than when they’d arrived.

  Maggie could use some of that right now. And so could Tony, whether he acknowledged it or not. “Della’s food is as good as ever. And her desserts are still unbelievable.” Her mouth watered just thinking about the custard pie. “You won’t be sorry I made you stop.”

  He gave a little grunt.

  How had his meeting with his nonna gotten so completely out of hand? Things had been a little rocky from the start, but Maggie had never in a million years been ready for the rapid-fire explosion between them.

  What can I do to help them, God?

  While she left their problem in God’s hands for the moment, she supposed she could try to figure out how to cheer up Tony. Della’s food would definitely help. “Well, I’m starved. And like I told you, I don’t cook.”

  Tony studied the menu. “I do.”

  “Really?” she asked skeptically.

  Eyeing Tony, the cute, chubby fifteen-year-old Hannah set two glasses of water on the table. “There’s some chicken potpie left, Maggie.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll have that with a salad and milk.” She glanced at Tony. “Hannah, this is Tony, Mrs. Stefano’s grandson. He’s in town for a few days and will be living at the house with us.”

  Hannah stole a shy glance at Tony. Hannah was not normally shy.

  But with the grumpy look on Tony’s face, who could blame her? Obviously, he was still reviewing his exchanges with his nonna. “Do you know what you want, Tony?”

  He jammed the menu back in its holder. “I’ll try the roast beef special.”

  Hannah self-consciously fidgeted with a belt loop on her jeans, looking almost as unhappy as Tony did. “I’m sorry, we’re out of the beef.”

  “It figures,” Tony grumbled to the table.

  Maggie nudged Tony’s foot in an attempt to jar him out of his preoccupation. “That’s what we get for waiting until almost closing time,” she said cheerily.

  Oblivious, Tony didn’t look up. “Just give me a hamburger basket with salad and a cola.”

  “Is there any custard pie left?” Maggie asked hopefully. Custard pie always helped.

  Hannah shook her head. “Only a couple slices of blueberry and one of rhubarb.”

  Did Tony still love rhubarb pie? Maybe challenging him for it would get his mind off that meeting. “I’ll take the rhubarb.”

  No response from Tony.

  Hannah’s rubber-soled sandals squeaking on the gray tile, she walked to the counter and handed the order to Della.

  Maggie fidgeted, still no ideas on how to help Tony and Stella popping to mind. “I’ll toss you for the rhubarb pie.”

  “You can have it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. And don’t expect me to share.”

  He frowned at her.

  At least she’d gotten him to look up. “So what can you cook?”

  “Whatever I feel like eating.”

  “Italian food?”

  “Sometimes, although I haven’t cooked Italian lately. I have a gas burner, but I cook mostly over a campfire on my building sites.”

  Finally, he was thinking about something besides his meeting with Stella. “That must be challenging.”

  “I’m used to it. Locals are eager to share their recipes with me, so I can use ingredients that are readily available.”

  “So you get to know the local people?”

  “Icing on the cake. Talking about food is often a good way to find workers.”

/>   “You learn their languages?”

  “Some better than others. I hate relying on interpreters any more than I have to.”

  Asking him about his work was proving to be a good strategy to draw him out. But she couldn’t deny she was curious about his life, too. “Do they invite you to their churches?”

  “Now and then.”

  “Do you go?”

  “Sometimes.” He squinted. “I prefer to worship in His great outdoors. I’ve found a whole lot fewer judgmental people worship there.”

  “Still holding on to that old grudge?”

  “I haven’t found any reason to change my mind.”

  “What about nobody’s perfect? Or forgive like you want to be forgiven?” She shifted uncomfortably, recognizing she was having a huge problem with that herself. Please forgive me.

  Tony lifted an eyebrow as if picking up on her discomfort and trying to make sense of it.

  She cleared her throat. “We were talking about your work. You seem to love it.”

  He shrugged. “Building factories in third-world countries can be challenging, but it has its rewards.”

  “Do the poverty and poor living conditions get to you?”

  “Sure.” He studied his spoon. “But many people are intelligent and eager to learn.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded encouragement.

  The intensity on his face softened. “Well…a couple months ago, I met the neatest little kid in Rio. His name is Paulo. He’s ten. He’s so proud he can read. The day I met him, he insisted I come home with him to meet his mother, who had taught him. She’d learned from missionaries in the orphanage she grew up in.”

  “They sound amazing.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “But they were practically starving. Paulo’s father couldn’t find enough work to support their ten kids.”

  “That’s so sad. What did you do?”

  “I hired him to work for me and helped him move his family to Porto Loges before we started our project.”

  “That’s fantastic, Tony.” She liked that he cared about people, in spite of his roaming tendencies. “Is it working out?”

  “Better than I ever imagined. Paulo’s father is learning to be a good worker, and Paulo and his mother have made it their mission to teach the people of Porto Loges to read. They travel from hut to hut, dragging a half dozen of the kids with them. They need a school.”

  She wanted that school for Paulo and his mother and the people of Porto Loges. “Is that a possibility?”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to interest my backers in helping us fund one. It would only be good business in the long run.”

  “And?”

  He shook his head. “They’re balking. But my men and I often chip in for materials and build classrooms in our spare time. So whether my backers jump on board or not, we’ll build a school. It will take longer and the school will be smaller with fewer amenities, but we’ll make it happen.”

  “That’s wonderful. You’re helping people better their lives, just like your nonna does. You’re a lot like her.”

  “Who woulda thought?”

  “But won’t it be hard to leave Paulo and his family behind when you finish your work there?”

  “Can’t be helped.” He met her gaze. “When the job is done, I move my heavy equipment to the next project. The next country. For the most part, it’s a good life.”

  She frowned, unable to understand how leaving people you cared about could possibly be a good life.

  “So why don’t you cook?” he asked.

  She struggled to follow his sudden change of topic but couldn’t help appreciating the shift to something lighter. “With Stella to cook her delicious food for me? You must be joking.”

  “I’m surprised she hasn’t taught you.”

  “She tried.” Maggie made a face. “I was so bad. Even worse than that time you boiled the sauce too long and ruined one of her pans.”

  “Yeah, she was thrilled,” he said sarcastically.

  Maggie gave her head a little shake. She couldn’t believe she’d brought him right back to Stella being unhappy with him. She desperately needed food to think clearly. “Try not to worry about your nonna, Tony. I’ll help you figure out a game plan.”

  Tony frowned.

  “Or maybe you’d rather I stay out of it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a clue how to fix things with Nonna. But this must set a new record—my needing your help twice in under two hours.”

  “I’ll add it to your bill,” she said jokingly.

  He held her gaze, no smile in sight. “Will you ever let me pay that?”

  Maggie searched his eyes, confused by his serious tone in the face of her joke. She must have missed something. “Pay? How?”

  “Maybe need my help for a change?”

  “Of course.” If he only knew how much she had needed him, but how could he? He’d been gone.

  Hannah set down their drinks. “Uh, Maggie, is it okay if I invite a friend over to watch a movie tonight?”

  “Sure. Janis?”

  “No.” Hannah drew in a breath and let it out. “Lucas Bradley. He’s staying with his grandmother for the summer. She lives by Rainbow Lake. Emma Bradley?”

  “Oh, Emma’s grandson.” Apparently, Hannah had a new friend. A boy. Maggie suppressed a smile. “Sure, you can invite Lucas over. I’ll be home all evening.”

  Hannah threw her a relieved smile. “Thank you.” She walked away.

  Maggie turned to Tony. “She was so nervous to ask my permission. She’s only fifteen.” Fifteen had been the most excruciating year of Maggie’s life. The year Tony had left. The year she’d lived in Eau Claire with her mom’s elderly aunt Bea. The year her parents were killed. The year she’d… She took a quick breath against the jolt of pain.

  She’d had nobody left but God. He’d seen her through everything in so many ways. Including giving her Stella, who’d taken her in and treated her like a daughter ever since.

  But Tony’s fifteenth year hadn’t exactly been a lark either. “Don’t you remember what being fifteen was like?”

  “It was the pits.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Maggie McGuire,” Della hollered, hustling around the counter and heading for their booth with the energy of a tornado. “Hannah just filled me in on who this handsome stranger is,” she boomed across the diner.

  “Now the entire town will know I’m back,” Tony said under his breath.

  Maggie gave him a look. It was probably a good thing they hadn’t stopped in at rush hour. “People are interested, that’s all.”

  “Goodness, but you’ve grown,” Della exclaimed, reaching their table.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tony climbed to his feet, at least six feet two inches of muscle.

  Della’s mouth flew open. “And would you look at the manners? Sit back down, honey. When did you get home? Was Stella surprised? What did she say?”

  Tony sat, looking up at Della, a confused look on his face.

  Maggie decided to help him out. “He just got home about an hour ago. And Stella was thrilled, of course.”

  Della grinned. “Well, I can imagine. How’s she doing?”

  Maggie waited for Tony to answer. When he didn’t, she jumped in. “She needs lots of rest and therapy.”

  “No visitors then?”

  Maggie thought about how tired Stella looked. “Not for now.”

  “But if she can do therapy, that has to be good, right?” Della asked with concern.

  “Yes, very good,” Maggie agreed, not wanting to ge
t bogged down in whether Stella could be motivated to actually do therapy. “How’s Rachel?”

  “She’s getting anxious to have those babies, that’s for sure.”

  Maggie glanced at Tony. “You remember Rachel. Della’s daughter?”

  “Sure.” He frowned as if he didn’t have a clue.

  He didn’t remember Rachel? The pretty blonde classmate he’d taken to homecoming and prom when Maggie’s parents insisted Maggie was too young to date?

  Della sighed. “Rachel has four boys and is almost due to deliver twin girls.”

  “Six kids?” He shifted as if uncomfortable with the thought of Rachel with six kids. Maybe he did remember her after all.

  “Her husband travels a lot for his job.” Worry laced Della’s voice. “Those boys are a real handful, and now—”

  The bell on the counter near the cash register pinged. “Nobody here to take my money,” Harold Phillips’s voice boomed from the counter. “Guess that means we get our pie free tonight.”

  “Not a chance, Harold,” Della called cheerfully. “Tony, you tell your grandma hi for me.” Della hustled away.

  Hannah set salads in front of them.

  “Thanks, Hannah.” Maggie picked up her fork.

  Tony murmured his thanks and Hannah left.

  “Six kids with a father who doesn’t have time for them? Why can’t parents understand they need to put their kids’ needs before their own whims?”

  The irony of his words struck her. She knew he was referring to his own father abandoning him. But he had no idea… . A flutter of pain knifing her heart, she speared another mouthful of lettuce.

  “You want kids?” Tony asked.

  Her salad tasting like sawdust by now, Maggie choked down a bite and concentrated on keeping her voice even. “Someday. Do you?”

  “You think my lifestyle is conducive to kids? Or a wife either, for that matter?”

  She blew out a breath. “Have you thought about what you’ll be missing?”

  “My work’s important to me.” He shrugged. “Anyway, can’t miss what you’ve never had, can you?”

  Maggie frowned, the pain in her heart stealing her breath. She’d held their baby girl only once, and she’d never stopped aching to hold her again.