Love of a Lifetime

by Carol Voss

  “Thank you.”

  Her words felt so good. He’d forgotten more than the fun times they’d shared as kids. He’d forgotten this, the feeling that she needed him, that she wanted him with her. And it still meant the world to him. “Do you remember the time you won the cheerleading competition and Susan Pertzborn didn’t make it?”

  Maggie nodded. “Second grade.”

  “Yeah. Susan and a couple of her loser friends taunted you on the bus and made you feel so bad, I found you up here crying.”

  She wiped her eyes and gave him a little smile. “You brought me a strawberry shake and made me play the ‘worst-day’ game with you. Your stories were so silly, I ended up in tears from laughing. You made me forget the bad stuff.”

  He grinned, glad she remembered his helping her feel better. He reached out and took her hand, so small in his. “Come with me now. Let me show you something really cool.”

  * * *

  “They’re so adorable,” Maggie gushed. How could she help it? She stood in front of Tony, peering in the shed’s small window. A shaft of sunlight spotlighted a humble cardboard box, and in that box, five feeble, newborn kittens squirmed on their mother’s belly, blindly trying to nurse. A black, a gray-black tabby, two grays and a white with gray boots like its mother. “They’re amazing.”

  “Yesterday, I stacked newspapers in that box. They weren’t here then.”

  She stopped herself from leaning back against him. Problem was, after sharing things in the tree house that she’d never told another living soul, she felt closer to him on so many levels that it made her head swim.

  He’d said he’d loved her and erased any doubt that their baby had been conceived in love. Thank You, God. But I almost slipped about the baby. Would I have told him everything if he hadn’t let me off the hook?

  “This morning, I came out to patch the hole I found in the shed, and there they all were. Good thing I put off patching that hole.” He sounded as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Do you think she’s a feral cat?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m sure she can hear us, and she seems pretty relaxed, don’t you think?”

  “She does. Where do you think she came from?”

  “Probably lost or abandoned. Or she didn’t feel safe enough to have her kittens wherever she was.”

  “Poor thing.” The idea of the mother cat having no safe place to give birth made Maggie’s heart ache. She watched her tenderly lick her tiny offspring now. “I’m so glad she came here to have them.”

  “Pretty amazing, huh?”

  She turned to look up at him and couldn’t help smiling at the awe on his face. The same awe she was feeling. “Amazing,” she agreed. She turned back to watch the kittens. “Do you think the mother would mind if we held them?”

  “Seems kind of soon.”

  “You’re right. We don’t want to frighten her away.”

  His breath stirred her hair and sent a pleasant little shiver down her back. And she shouldn’t be enjoying it so much.

  “I didn’t even know you liked cats,” Maggie said.

  “I didn’t either. I never really got to know one until I started traveling with my foreman and his huge tabby. The Terminator.”

  She laughed. “The Terminator?”

  “Actually, his name is George. But The Terminator and I have a working agreement. He keeps the mice under control, and I take care of the rats.”

  “You have a real fixation with rats, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “Want to help me give the mother some food and water?”

  “That’s what’s in the mystery bag you carried down here?” She indicated the grocery bag he’d set down.

  “If I’d told you what was in there, it would have spoiled my surprise.”

  She smiled. “It’s a fantastic surprise, Tony.”

  He met her eyes. “Glad you like it.”

  “I love it,” she corrected.

  A grin lit up his whole face. Bending over the grocery bag, he took out a package of kibble and handed it to her, then dipped in the bag and removed a bottle of water and two heavy green plastic bowls. He handed her one of the bowls.

  She set the bowl on the ground and opened the kibble. Noticing the banner on the bag, she pointed to it. “This food is for kittens, Tony.”

  He continued pouring the bottle of water into the other bowl. “I stopped at the vet’s while I was in town. He told me to feed the mother kitten food to make sure the kittens get the right nutrition. He said he’d stop by later to check that everybody’s fine.”

  “Good thinking.” She quickly read the portion sizes on the container and poured a generous portion of kibble. “Does this look about right?”

  He shrugged. “Looks good to me. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  He quietly opened the shed door and led the way inside. “Hi, there, little lady,” he said softly. He set the bowl of water a couple feet from the box of cats.

  The mother watched calmly.

  Maggie set the kibble beside the water and followed Tony back outside. When she looked back, the mother was already bathing her kittens again. “She’s definitely used to people.”

  He nodded. “I’ll bring a litter box down later.”

  “Do you think they’ll be safe here? I mean, they’re so tiny, and if the mother got in that hole, predators like weasels can, too.”

  “If she has food, water and a litter box, she doesn’t have any reason to leave the kittens while they’re so helpless. But just in case, I’ll put a temporary patch on the hole. She came here to keep her kittens safe, so the least we can do is help her do it, right?”

  Maggie smiled. This big, strong construction guy had a real soft spot for protecting helpless creatures who needed him.

  “You and Hannah will have a lot of fun socializing them so they don’t grow up wild.”

  His comment reminded her that he would be gone. “You won’t be here to watch these cute little guys grow up,” she said sadly.

  “You can email me pictures.”

  “Pictures won’t be the same as your being here.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”

  At least he didn’t sound happy about leaving. That was something to be grateful for.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know…earlier, I mentioned I’d taken a tour of Doc Tilbert’s farm?”

  She nodded.

  “I noticed Ideal Builders is building one-story condominiums on a cul-de-sac near the backwoods, so I stopped to check it out.”

  With a sinking feeling, Maggie realized what was coming and began shaking her head before he’d finished his sentence.

  “It’s going to be a great place, Maggie. It’s affordable, owners can choose whatever level of lawn care they want, even do their own…and everything will be brand-new. No leaking roofs, no drafty windows, no hazardous electricity or ancient appliances on the verge of collapse. Any problems whatsoever, you just call maintenance.”

  She kept right on shaking her head. “If you think either Stella or I want to live in a sterile environment like that, you really have no clue who we are, Tony.”

  He squinted as if he was peering through a dense fog. “Sterile environment?”

  “Stilted. Immaculate. Dead. Whatever word you want to choose.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. They allow cats.” He looked at her as if he’d solved one of the biggest problems of mankind.

  She was so bowled over by his comment that she didn’t know what to say.

  “Will you come and look at it with me?”

  Apparently, he’d taken her silence for acquiescence. She found her voice in a hurry. “Not interested.” />
  He looked at her very seriously. “Maggie…we need to figure out a compromise before I go back to Brazil. If we don’t, I’m going to lie awake every night worrying about what nightmare you’re currently dealing with in Nonna’s decrepit, old Victorian.”

  He was trying to take care of her? Knowing that gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. But would he ever understand? Laying her hand on his arm, she peered into his eyes. “I appreciate your trying to help me…I do. But how can I compromise on the house? You’re conveniently forgetting that Stella’s well-being is at stake.”

  “If Nonna ever does make it out of the rehab center—a big if from my perspective—what makes you so sure she wouldn’t thrive moving to a place that would solve a bunch of problems she’s been attempting to deal with for a very long time?”

  Obviously, he still thought she was only being her stubborn, self-sufficient self about Stella, which meant she was still on her own, didn’t it? Sadly, she withdrew her hand and trudged beside Tony to the house. “You’re right about one thing, Tony. She won’t make it out of the rehab center if she doesn’t have her home to come back to.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sounds of shuffling feet and muted voices came from the hall outside Nonna’s room as Tony packed lunch leftovers in the cooler. Sharing his eggplant Parmesan with Nonna had proved to be a hit. No complaints about too much garlic this time.

  He pulled a chair close to her bed and spread out one of the photo albums he’d brought with him. The ones he figured would be least likely to have pictures of his dad. Truth be told, he wasn’t quite as confident about his blast to the past with Nonna as he’d been when he’d decided to bring the albums along.

  Too bad Maggie’s schedule was too full to allow her to be here to smooth troubled waters. But he’d be leaving the day after tomorrow, so there just wasn’t a lot of time to wait. Besides, he’d chosen the albums carefully. He could handle this.

  Things began smoothly enough. Nonna offered an occasional comment as she paged through photos of his growing-up years, countless pictures of him at various ages in assorted ragtag sports uniforms. He remembered she’d sat through some pretty bad weather sometimes to cheer him on, no matter how bad things were going between them. How had he forgotten that?

  She pointed to a picture of him marching in a parade with his trumpet, wearing a band uniform she’d managed to scrounge from somebody whose kid had outgrown it. “Do you still play your trumpet?”

  The trumpet he’d traded for a good meal in Arkansas? “I don’t have it anymore.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You were very good.”

  A compliment? “Thanks.” Things seemed to be going better than he could have hoped. Shots of his golden retriever were a welcome relief. And there were more pictures with friends than he’d ever remembered having. “Who took all these pictures?”

  “I took some, friends gave me a few. Maggie’s mother gave me many. She always had a camera in her hand, remember? She was a wonderful woman.”

  He nodded. “Maggie’s a lot like her.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  They both chuckled at several photos of him with Maggie in all her freckled glory. Pictures of them running in the sprinkler, sitting in the apple tree outside her bedroom window, eating wands of cotton candy almost as big as she was. Several of them leaning out the window or door of her tree house.

  Pigtailed or ponytailed or long curls blowing in the wind, he could almost feel the energy that still radiated from her. Could almost feel the invisible bond that still stretched between them. “Did you put the pictures in these albums, Nonna?”

  “Yes. They help me relive many fond memories.”

  He turned her comment over in his mind. Had she forgotten all the less-than-fond ones? By the time they finished the album, Tony couldn’t help noticing how tired she looked. “I’ll let you get some rest now.

  She shook her head. “Let’s look at one more album.”

  “If you’re tired, we can look at more pictures tomorrow,” he suggested.

  “One more, then I will take a nap.”

  She must be enjoying herself if she wanted to continue. The first few pages of the album she chose held pictures of her and Salvatore, alone or with friends of all ages.

  “Do you remember him?” Nonna asked.

  “I remember his booming laugh. And he let me play in the dirt in his garden. I thought that was pretty cool.”

  She smiled. “Salvatore loved friends and his rose garden almost as much as he loved playing with you.” She turned the page and pointed to a wedding picture of Tony’s parents. “So beautiful. So much in love. They met in Madrid, you know. It was Celia’s first tour with her cello. They married three months later. Do you remember this picture?”

  Had she forgotten? “An enlargement is still hanging on the wall in your living room.”

  “Yes, it is.” Smiling, Nonna turned the page. “And here you are on Dolly, our gentle old horse.”

  “I remember her.”

  “Do you? You were only three when your mamma and papa brought you to visit us. You loved sitting on Dolly’s back while Salvatore led you around and around the meadow.”

  He smiled, actually enjoying himself.

  She looked pensive. “It was the only time your mamma and papa brought you home. They were very sought-after musicians, you know. Always working.”

  A distant memory flitted through his mind of feeling second to his parents’ mutual passion for each other and their music. Another memory nudged his mind…his father trying to turn Tony into a violin prodigy and being sorely disappointed. Would things have been different if Tony had possessed talent for the violin? But what was the point of wondering?

  “When you were born, Salvatore and I flew to Paris to see you. Such a sturdy baby you were. We celebrated your first birthday with you in London, and your second birthday in our beloved Venice. Perhaps it is no mystery that you love to travel.”

  “Maybe not.” For once, she wasn’t blaming him for it.

  “We traveled to many performances before Salvatore’s heart would no longer allow him to fly on airplanes. When he died, your papa and mamma could not come home.”

  She’d buried her husband alone? Was that the reason she was so upset he hadn’t come back for his dad’s memorial service? Thank God, she’d had Maggie to help her through his father’s death.

  She brushed a tear from her cheek. “When Salvatore died, your papa did not tell me that your beautiful mamma was ill. They didn’t want to worry me. She died three months after Salvatore.”

  This was heavy stuff. “I didn’t realize their deaths were so close.”

  “A very sad time. Your papa struggled to go on. He knew he could not care for you alone. That is when he brought you to me.”

  “And continued with his tour,” Tony said flatly.

  “What else could he do, Anthony? He had contracts to fulfill and many bills from your mamma’s illness.”

  “But why didn’t he ever come back?”

  Nonna closed her eyes. “I believe he could not face the pain of coming home without his papa here. Without his beloved Celia at his side.”

  Tony swallowed into a tight throat. “You and I were here.”

  Nonna’s gaze met his. “Yes.”

  “We should have stuck together, especially during that rough time. Isn’t that what families do?”

  “We hang on to God with all our strength, and we do what we can manage, Anthony. That is all we can do. You must learn to accept that.”

  Accept his father abandoning him because he couldn’t face the pain of loss? He couldn’t believe God had anything to do with that. Or that his father ever considered how his absence had hurt his son and his mother.

  But sharing h
is thoughts about his dad would only cause Nonna more pain. A good reason to keep those thoughts to himself from here on out. Just like Maggie had advised him. Add wise to her list of attributes. But didn’t he have more to say? Wasn’t it past time to do what he’d come back to do? “I’m sorry, Nonna.”

  Nonna gave him a questioning look. “Sorry?”

  He made himself meet her gaze. “For giving you…you know, a rough time growing up.”

  “Oh, my dear Anthony.” She patted his hand. “You were young, everything black-and-white, no grays. It was very hard for you without your father. And perhaps I was too strict at times.” She smiled. “You were such a handsome boy, deeply passionate…and headstrong, too…much like my Salvatore.”

  She’d elevated him enough to compare him to his grandfather?

  She carefully turned pages. “As for your father, there is a picture of you with your mamma and papa. You will see the love he had for you.”

  Oh, boy. He hoped she didn’t mean the picture—

  She scowled up at him as she pointed to the blank spot. “Where is the photo?”

  The one of him on his father’s shoulders. The one he’d yanked from the album and left in the trunk. Why, he didn’t know. And he didn’t have a clue how to explain to her what he couldn’t understand himself.

  “It is a precious picture, Anthony. You must find it and put it back in the album where it belongs.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He stood up, chair legs screeching against the tile floor.

  Nonna gave him a startled look. “Do not run away, Anthony.”

  Run away? “I’m not running away, Nonna.” He grabbed the stack of albums. “I’m going to find that picture for you. I’m sure it’s in the trunk.”

  He strode out of the room and down the hall. Why had he taken that picture out of the album? He didn’t know why. He only knew he felt too much when he looked at it.

  And he hadn’t wanted to go there with Nonna.