by Gail Mencini
43
After seeing Meghan in Lee’s room, Bella wandered through the palazzo. She heard the sound of a child’s laughter and went to find the source.
Giacomo stood in the front driveway beside a young boy who looked like he was five or six years old. The Italian boy was playing catch with a baseball—with Phillip! Bella stood in the palazzo’s entry and watched.
The boy’s throws alternated between being way short of Phillip and off to his side. Phillip jogged to wherever the ball landed and made a grand show of picking it up and fumbling it in the air, crazily flipping it hand to hand, sometimes even dropping it, before gently tossing it back to the boy. Phillip kept up a constant conversation with the boy in flawless Italian.
She studied Phillip’s face. His relaxed happiness, as he played with the child, was the real deal.
The boy threw another ball that fell halfway between Phillip and himself. Phillip again jogged to the ball, picked it up and pretended to fumble it. He laughed at himself and in Italian declared that the ball must be covered in olive oil, as it was so slippery. He walked to the boy and made a show of placing the ball directly into the child’s hands. Phillip gestured back to the spot where he had been standing and instructed Giacomo to take his place.
Phillip demonstrated the proper throwing technique by pantomiming a throw himself. Then, he crouched behind the boy, whispered in his ear and moved the boy’s throwing arm once, twice, three times to let the boy feel the proper form. Phillip stepped back, clapped his hands and encouraged the boy to throw to Giacomo. The instruction helped. The ball reached Giacomo, only slightly off to one side.
Phillip alternated between teaching the child and catching the ball. The thing that surprised Bella the most was the joy on Phillip’s face as he laughed, joked, and feigned ineptitude.
A sedan drove up and a man and a woman got out of the car. The boy rushed to them and gave each a double kiss. Giacomo greeted the couple in the same manner. Phillip walked over and hugged both the woman and the man. All of them stood and chatted a few minutes. The woman gestured at the ball, and the boy ran to pick it up. Phillip again hugged the couple, and then the boy. He walked toward the palazzo.
Bella stood her ground.
“Good morning,” Phillip said when he saw her. “Have you been here long?”
“Long enough to see the results of your throwing lessons to the boy. Who is he?”
“Great kid. He’s Giacomo’s nephew. He watched television while we were at dinner and then slept on the sofa in Giacomo’s room last night. I guess his parents had a wedding to attend.”
“Your Italian is beautiful. You never said you had learned the language.”
His eyes fastened onto hers. “I couldn’t let go of Italy and my memories of our time here together.”
Right, she thought. Maybe you couldn’t let go of the memories, but you were sure quick to dump me.
“Bella,” he said, “I’ve been anxious to get you–”
“Buon giorno,” Giacomo said as he entered the palazzo. “Grazie, my friend,” he said, clapping Phillip on the back, “for playing catch with my nephew. He could not stop laughing and talking about how you could not catch and how much fun he had.”
“I’m the one who had the fun,” Phillip said.
Giacomo glanced at Bella, and then back at Phillip. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve played too long, I’m afraid. Now we must go to the courtyard, as our group will leave from there for today’s tour in a few minutes.”
Phillip looked at Bella. “Can we talk later today? It sounds like there’s no time now, and besides, I probably should change.” He gestured to his dusty blue jeans.
She nodded.
He turned toward the stairwell to the upper floors.
“Phillip,” Bella said. The thought that had kept recurring to her the night before—the incongruity of his nature—begged to be spoken.
He turned to look at her, with a smile on his face.
“Your offer to help Rune last night was very generous. It was kind of you.”
“I meant it. I’m happy to help him any way I can. It’s only money.” With that, Phillip turned and ran up the stairs.
His sincerity nearly knocked Bella off her feet.
When Bella reached the courtyard, she found Meghan, Lee and Giacomo sitting together. Now this was confusing. Which one was Meghan with?
“Good morning, Bella.” Lee touched his lips with his napkin. He smiled at Meghan and patted one of her hands with his.
Meghan winked at Lee.
Lee met Bella’s eyes. His shining face had dropped years of age since the day before.
Meghan’s face bore a quiet confidence. She lifted her chin. “Lee and I are very good friends.” Her face dared Bella to ask more.
Giacomo raised Meghan’s hand to his lips and kissed it, before returning it to the table. “And I am your ‘very good friend,’ too, am I not?”
Meghan giggled. “Most definitely.” The look she gave Giacomo said volumes.
“Oh.” Bella flushed scarlet.
Meghan met Bella’s eyes with a steady face and a soft smile. “Lee and I had a lot to catch up on, just us two. It seems we may both have Italy in our future.” Her hand reached out, not for Lee, but Giacomo. She stroked the Italian’s strong forearm.
Confusing, Bella thought. One thing was certain, though. All three looked happy.
“I may come back to Italy over Thanksgiving to investigate housing arrangements,” Lee said. “I’d like to take a sabbatical.”
“You’d move your family here?” Bella said.
“That I’ll have to work out with them. Life’s a compromise, Bella. It’s not black and white. I learn that every day in my practice. I love my wife, but that love has changed over the years, and our futures may take different directions. I’m going to sort that out with her when I go home.”
Bella repeated Lee’s words in her mind. Life is not black and white.
Stillman walked into the courtyard. “Today,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “we road trip. We’re heading south, to visit a lovely little village, Radda-in-Chianti.”
The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps caught their attention. They pivoted to see Hope stomping into the courtyard. Her breath came in gulps and pants. Her eyes flamed with anger.
“Charlie,” Hope said, “that no-good, abusive, jerk husband of mine, dumped all my clothes out in the street yesterday. My next-door neighbor texted me a picture of it. Oh, and he closed all of our bank and credit card accounts, too. Asshole.”
Phillip entered the courtyard and stood so close to Bella that she could smell his woodsy aftershave. “I’ll cover you, Hope.” He pulled out his wallet and extended a wad of euros to her.
Stillman moved in front of Hope. “I’ve got it.” His wallet was out and he pressed an equally large bundle of bills into Hope’s hand.
A wave of déjà vu swept over Bella. The competition between Stillman and Phillip had revived.
“Thank you.” Hope first kissed Stillman’s cheek, and then Phillip’s, after accepting his money, too. She looked at them each in turn. “You, all of you, give me strength ... and kindness ... and friendship.”
Tears trickled out of Hope’s eyes. “I was an idiot. The thing that haunts me is that my daughter, Erica, saw me take it from Charlie—the words and the punches. She watched for years. I pray to God she doesn’t believe that’s normal. Have dinner on the table whenever he gets home, don’t ask too many questions, and stifle your cries when his words or his fists wound you.” She pressed a hand to her lips to suppress a sob. “That’s what I taught my daughter.”
Hope looked at Stillman. “That’s why I finally left him. Because of Erica, and because I had a plane ticket to Italy.” She clenched her teeth. “I’m never going back to him. Never.”
“We’re all here for you, Hope.” Phillip’s calm words broke the tension. “Now and back in the States, too.”
Bella knew two things.
Hearing Hope’s story, it was ridiculous to feel sorry for herself. Life without a man was a hell of a lot better than life with someone like Charlie.
Second, Bella knew she had to confront Phillip. Today. Her self-respect demanded that she do it, and she owed it to David. She didn’t want to admit it, but seeing Phillip play with the boy, and his being so quick to offer aid to Rune and Hope, had presented a conflicting picture of the man she had hated for thirty years. And she couldn’t allow anything to stop her from facing him.
44
They traveled to Radda-in-Chianti by van, with the group collectively putting together a game plan for Hope. Once there, Hope declared that she had her marching orders and that the discussion about “asshole Charlie” was finished for the day.
A line of Vespas, courtesy of Stillman, waited for them for a ride in the country before their lunch and the drive back to the palazzo. Meghan was the only one who wanted to practice in a parking lot before their ride. Soon, they wound single file out of Radda.
Before they reached the open countryside, they passed a line of ten bicyclists. Their red and yellow jerseys emblazoned with the circular Chianti Classico logo brought hoots of admiration from Phillip and Rune.
I should be enjoying this ride more than I am, Bella thought. The cloudless blue sky, rolling hills that wound through woods, and charming pockets of homes and structures built at the road’s edge couldn’t lift her anxiety.
She welcomed, and dreaded, her conversation with Phillip. When would it happen? Before or after lunch? Or would it be tonight?
Then she saw the sign. Castellina-in-Chianti. The hilltop town where Phillip stole her virginity and her heart. Thank God, Stillman led them away from that infamous village. Bella tightened her grip on the handles of the Vespa. Her stomach churned.
She thought about David but couldn’t stay focused on the good he was doing in Africa. No. Her mind kept replaying how she had almost lost David because of her determination to mold him into a different man from his father. Different from Phillip.
The Vespas slowed behind a tractor, small by U.S. standards. Bella, driving second behind Stillman, could see a line of oncoming traffic approaching. She knew Stillman wouldn’t go around the tractor because there wasn’t time for the entire group to pass it safely. At that moment, she spotted the sign that pointed toward Radda-in-Chianti five kilometers ahead.
Bella floored her Vespa, passed Stillman and the tractor, and left the others behind. Driving recklessly, Bella barely slowed her Vespa around the turns and kept it full throttle on the straight stretches of road.
When Bella returned to their starting point for the ride, she was shaking. She parked her Vespa, put her helmet and the Vespa key in the unlocked compartment underneath the seat, and scribbled a note. Explaining that she wasn’t hungry and had gone to explore the town, Bella suggested that they eat without her. It was true. The thought of food now repelled her.
As much as she wanted to have it out with Phillip, she could do the math. First lunch, then a communal stroll through Radda, and then it would be time to return to the palazzo. No time alone with him now. She’d confront him tonight.
Bella struck off from the parking lot along the busy two-lane road that skirted the edge of the main business section of town. Giacomo had boasted on the drive that tourists from both Europe and the United States used Radda as a base for winery visiting and bicycling the Tuscan hills.
In minutes, Bella reached narrow pedestrian streets crisscrossed with shops. She passed an enoteca, a sundries shop, a kitchen gadget store, and a clothing store. Another time, she would have found them charming, but they held no interest for her today.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. She strolled through one street and then another. Bella reached the end of the stores and kept walking. The street curved downhill, away from where she had started.
Oak and cypress trees lined the edge of a cemetery ahead. Bella picked up her pace. At first, the thought of walking through a cemetery repulsed her. But the charm of Radda’s cemetery lured her in. Someone took great care in maintaining the neat, manicured appearance of the centuries-old cemetery. Here, she could say a prayer for her mother.
Bella moved closer. She looked up and down the rows packed with monuments. Many headstones bore pictures of the deceased. The pictures moved her. She reached out to touch the smooth oval picture of an elderly woman buried next to a somber-looking husband. The marker held their names and dates of death, and an etched cross. Bella’s fingers traced the indentation of the cross.
Something rustling behind Bella startled her. She glanced over her shoulder.
An old woman in a long black dress and kerchief knelt beside a grave. Her head was lowered, her hands stretched before her on the ground, plucking weeds that had sprouted between the flowers in front of the headstone.
Bella heard the woman’s breaking voice sing a melody. Then the elderly woman moved to another stone; again, she weeded around the red gardenias. This time, the woman didn’t sing. When she finished weeding, she kissed the top of the stone marker.
After the woman had shuffled off, Bella moved to the freshly weeded plots. The first grave held a child. The picture showed a young boy, not more than three. Next to it, the man on the tombstone had to be her husband. Was the woman alone now?
Bella’s eyes blurred. It had been more than two years since she last saw David. Oh, how she missed him. In a breaking whisper, she sang David’s song, the bedtime song from when he was a toddler. Her hands covered her face. She felt her tears against her hands. Bella stood in silence and tried to remember David’s smell. The leaves of the trees rustled.
Someone’s hand touched the back of her shoulder. Bella sucked in her breath and spun around.
“Sorry,” Phillip said. “I’ve been walking all over town looking for you.”
She wiped her palms over her wet cheeks and steadied her voice. He must wonder why she was crying, she thought. Bella looked down at the grave marker beside her, and then back at Phillip. “I saw an elderly woman weeding here. She planted flowers.”
Phillip cleared his throat. “I wondered if you’d even speak to me this week. You’re the reason I came, you know.”
Bella waited.
“I owe you an explanation. Thirty years too late, but you deserve it, nonetheless.”
“And if I don’t care to hear it?”
“Bella.”
She looked into his eyes. She couldn’t read them.
“I got engaged the Christmas before our summer in Italy. Her father promised me a fast track to an executive position in the family business. Then I met you.”
“You never told me—told anyone—you were engaged.”
“I loved you.” His face seemed to sag under the burden of his confession.
Bella couldn’t speak. What could she say?
“I meant what I said to you when we left. Nothing could stop me from transferring out East to be near you.”
“Liar.” Bella’s nostrils flared. “Nothing could stop you? Some hired flunky met me at the airport. Not you. No.” She shook her head. “You weren’t there. You stood me up.”
Phillip reached for her hand.
Bella pulled out of his grasp. She looked down; she focused on the red, lacy geraniums and fought the tears.
“Please. Try to listen.”
Bella didn’t move.
“I told Angel about you the day she picked me up from the airport. I broke my engagement with her.” His words came out in a strained tone. “It was a full-court press—Angel, her father, my parents. I know it’s no excuse.”
That’s it? Bella’s stomach churned.
“Italy seemed so far away. They claimed you were merely part of the charm of my summer abroad.”
She glared at him. “You couldn’t call me? Give me a chance?”
He moistened his lips. His eyes cast away. “I wanted to. Oh, God, I needed you.”
“Why don’t you tell it like it is? Or don’t you have
the balls to admit you sold out your happiness for money?”
He looked at her with pain searing his eyes. “Angel pulled the trump card. She was pregnant.”
“Pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Bile crept up Bella’s throat.
“I would have left Angel, my parents, my college, the job. Everything. I would have left it all for you.” His hands, palms up, begged her to understand. “But I couldn’t ... couldn’t leave my child.”
Bella choked on the tears that stung her eyes and clogged her breath. She turned away from him. She moved to the tombstone of the little boy. She knelt before it and rested her head against the cool stone. She heard Phillip move to stand beside her.
“That was the biggest mistake of my life. I started regretting it on my honeymoon.” His words rose in volume and flew out of his mouth as if they’d been under pressure. “My wife detests me, and she takes great pride in showing it. My daughter, Jewel, has learned her mother’s lessons well. Too damn well. They keep me around because it’s convenient, and because I’ve made them a fortune through the company.”
Bella was paralyzed. She wondered if he’d leave if she didn’t speak. Leave her here, in the peaceful quiet of the dead.
“I often thought about leaving. Divorcing Angel and quitting the company.”
She had to know. She rose to her feet. Facing him, she forced her voice out in an even tone. “Why didn’t you?”
“Work. Stupid reason, isn’t it? I’ve spent my life expanding the company, building something tangible, something to be proud of. My work is all I have.”
“What about your child?”
“Hah.” The sound came out in a choking burst of air. “Jewel only calls me if she wants something.” He clenched his teeth and glanced away. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths.
He looked at Bella and spat out his words. “The breaking news is that, more than ever before, my work is all I have. When Angel found out that this trip was to Italy, for a reunion of that summer, she gave me a present. It seems my dear fiancée had burned it at both ends. She shared her love around. There was me, the guy her dad wanted to nurture in the business, and Ian, the punk, part-time rocker and full-time asshole she had met on one of her shopping excursions to San Francisco.”