Our Italian Summer

by Jennifer Probst

  “I won’t. Ian isn’t a big partier. We just want to see the city at night and catch a meal. Listen, we’ve all been together nonstop. I just want a break with someone my own age.”

  “He’s four years older,” I said.

  “I think it’s fine,” Mom interrupted. “He’s a good boy. I’ve watched him with his parents. She’s young and needs a break from us old people.”

  Annoyance flickered. Had she already forgotten about Allegra being busted with a bunch of delinquents? Why was I always the bad guy? Every time I tried to discipline my daughter, Mom tried to cut in and make excuses for her behavior. “Maybe if she hadn’t been arrested for pot I’d be more inclined to let her explore,” I said.

  Allegra glared across the table. “Maybe if you’d been around more, I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble,” she shot back, her face flushed with temper. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. It’s not like I’ve been going to parties every weekend, or drinking in my room, or messing up my grades. I’ve been perfect, just like you always wanted. Don’t I get to make a few mistakes without hearing about it for the rest of my life?”

  The waiter delivered our food, cutting off the rest of her tirade. I didn’t respond, and we all concentrated on our lunch amid a tense silence. I kept going over her words about me demanding perfection from her. Was I really like that? Yes, I pushed hard because I saw all of her amazing potential. Had she craved more attention from me? Had I believed I was giving her the freedom and space she wanted, but the entire time, she’d just wanted me to be with her?

  Was that the reason she was suddenly doing weed and hanging with the wrong crowd? To force me to finally pay attention?

  I remember pushing Mom away at her age, desperate to have my own life independent of her. Of course, it was my father I was always chasing after. He was the elusive parent whose approval or attention reinvigorated my drive to be better. But Allegra only had me. Maybe that was why she’d developed such a close relationship with her grandmother. Without a father, she’d needed more from me.

  And I’d failed her.

  The crushing truth punched me like an uppercut. All this time, Mom had been right. Begging me to give more of myself while I insisted Allegra needed less of me to become her own person. I’d been directing my anger toward Mom for being the chosen one, but maybe it had been crucial to make Allegra feel seen.

  My phone rang.

  I froze. Casually glanced down at the screen to see Kate’s name. The insistent ring practically screamed urgency. It was almost a physical need to pick it up, excuse myself, and make apologies later. But as my daughter didn’t even bother to look up at me, I realized she had no expectations that I would keep my word about work. She expected me to break my promises, because I’d believed doing that was less important than losing control over a new account or averting a disaster.

  Wasn’t it time I really tried to change?

  I dropped the ringing phone into my purse and finished my lunch. No one commented, but I caught Allegra’s surprised jerk, though she tried to hide it.

  It wasn’t the time for a big truth talk. Not yet. But a chat was overdue, and I needed to connect with Allegra so we could return home on better footing.

  “Okay,” I said, catching her gaze. “You can go with Ian. You’re right. I have to start trusting you again. I don’t expect you to be perfect, sweetheart. God knows, I’m not. But I’m going to talk to his parents so they know you’re out with him. And you need to be home by eleven. That’s plenty of time for you to hang.”

  She didn’t give me a forgiving smile, but her muscles relaxed. “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Welcome. Mom, that means it’s you and me tonight? How about we go wild together?”

  She laughed, but I noticed the deeper lines around her face hinting at a weariness that worried me. She’d been such a trooper and rarely complained, but I knew how difficult these tours were. Was I so wrapped up in my own world I hadn’t even noticed she needed more downtime? “I’m not sure I’m up to that tonight. I was actually thinking about going to bed early, but I can rally.”

  “You know, Mom, I think you’re right. We should all take another early night. We have the next two days to explore Venice. Let’s grab something at the hotel later on and be asleep by eight. Doesn’t that sound good?”

  Relief skittered across her features. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. Are you sure?”

  “Positive. If I feel beat-up, I can’t imagine how this schedule is for you.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re amazing, Mom. I’m glad I got my toughness from you.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. I rarely complimented my mother. Our conversations always revolved around petty arguments or day-to-day discussions that barely scratched the surface. No wonder I hadn’t known anything about her childhood or her losses, her true story.

  I’d never asked.

  She squeezed back and smiled. “Thanks, Frannie.”

  I felt the vibrations of texts pouring in from my phone, the flicker of the iPhone light going on and off like a pinball machine. My head throbbed. It must be bad. They probably needed me. I could be making a huge mistake by waiting to get back to them until later.

  I dragged in a deep breath and focused on Allegra, who began chatting about the crazed pigeons from our dramatic incident, making us laugh all over again.

  And I didn’t touch my phone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Sophia

  There was a faint knock on my door. I left the private balcony where I’d spent the last half hour relaxing and gazing at the busy Venice street and opened it.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you doing?”

  I smiled at Frannie. She looked nice. The bright yellow shirt she’d picked highlighted the lighter blond streaks in her hair and the spark in her eyes. I’d noticed she’d been taking a bit more time with her appearance lately and I was glad. She was beautiful, but she hid behind her profession, always telling me she needed to dress conservatively, avoiding colors other than black, gray, and navy. Her hair was growing longer, and silky strands clung to her cheeks, accenting her wide dark eyes. She’d changed, but I still wasn’t sure if it was the time away from work, Italy itself, or something else I’d missed.

  “Good. I took a long nap and I’m going to read for a while. What about you?”

  She shifted her weight. “Well, I’m going to stay up until Allegra gets home safely at eleven but figured I’d go out for a little while. Grab a drink with the tour group. Is that okay? Do you want to come?”

  “Oh, no, honey, go ahead and have fun. I’m perfectly happy to stare out my window and relax tonight. If you’re out, do you want me to text you when Allegra gets home? That way you don’t have to rush back.”

  “Thanks, Mom, that’d be great.” She nibbled at her bottom lip. “You think it was a good idea to let her go with Ian, right?”

  This was the first time she’d asked for my advice. It felt good. “Yes,” I said firmly. “You already spoke with his parents and she’s eighteen, honey. She needs a bit of freedom. She made a mistake but we need to allow her time to rebuild the trust. Let her have an adventure in Venice.”

  Frannie smiled. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.” She kissed my cheek and disappeared.

  I went back out to the balcony, my thoughts ajumble. We still had our fights, but since Naples, there’d been a new understanding between us. I was hoping a week in Tuscany to really bond and talk would help round out the entire vacation. We’d have few distractions and would not be able to avoid one another.

  It was time. Time to heal the rifts and be brave enough to say what we felt. My girls needed a new understanding to face the future.

  So did I.

  My hands pressed against my belly, which had been mercifully quiet lately. But I felt the thing growing inside me, shifting around, and my body trying to compensate. I was sick.
I just didn’t know the extent yet.

  I settled down and read for a while, but restlessness nipped at my bones. I wanted to rest, but the idea of a quiet stroll through Venice called to me. I knew how to get to the piazza from here without getting lost. Maybe I’d sit at a table and listen to the music at night for an hour, and then I’d be tired enough to sleep.

  Decision made, I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and headed out. Savoring the scents and sounds of the magical floating city, I took my time and chose an empty table at one of the cafés. The sight of the pigeons made me giggle, and I hoped Allegra and Frannie were having a good time tonight.

  I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio, some water, and a pastry to nibble on. The beauty of the plaza at night struck me full force. The orchestra was in full swing, the sweetness of the strings soaring through the summer air, as couples danced on the cobblestones. The lights of the clock tower and shops and stars dazzled my eyes. I sat quietly and took it all in, thinking back over my life and every moment that had led me to right here.

  “Scusi, signora, are you alone?”

  I looked up. A handsome older gentleman with gray hair and smart silver glasses had asked the question. “Oh yes, go ahead and take my chair,” I said, gesturing to the one next to me.

  His smile showed white, straight teeth. He must’ve brushed very well. It was hard to keep a smile like that at our age. “Oh, you speak English?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank goodness. I’m sorry, I was going to ask if you’d like some company. Are you meeting someone?”

  I blinked. Huh? “Um, no, I’m alone. Just having a glass of wine.” He waited and I realized he wanted to sit at my table. Politeness took over. “Of course you can join me.”

  He sat down and met my gaze directly from across the table. “Thank you. My name is Milton. I’ve been touring most of the day and just wanted a place to take in the sights and have a cocktail. When you see a beautiful woman alone, it’s silly to sit by yourself. I hope I didn’t intrude.”

  Warmth flowed through me. My goodness, it had been a long time since a man approached me for anything. Except for church. And they were priests so they didn’t count. Allegra had teased me about that previous gentleman following me, but I still stuck to my guns in believing that he was really after my granddaughter. “How sweet—thank you for the compliment. I’m Sophia. Are you with a tour group?”

  He inclined his head. “We’re doing the typical Italian tour and hitting all the highlights. You?”

  “The same thing. It’s been incredible, but we’re winding down. After Venice, we end in Siena. But then I’m staying in Tuscany for a week before heading back home.”

  “Then Venice is your end and my beginning. I bet we’re on a similar tour. We finish in Rome.”

  I laughed. “Yes, that’s where we started. Have you ever been to Italy before?”

  “No, this is my first time. How have I missed out for all those years? It’s tragic.”

  “Me too. It’d been my dream for most of my life, but my husband and I kept pushing it out until it was too late.”

  “You lost him?” I nodded. “My deepest sympathies. I lost my wife five years ago, also. We talked consistently of travel and never went anywhere. Too many children. Too many responsibilities. Then it was also too late.”

  My heart squeezed in my chest. “We have similar stories. Are you with your children on the tour?”

  He shook his head. “They are involved in their busy lives like I once was. I came alone.”

  I tilted my head and studied him closer. There was a quiet confidence in his demeanor, something only age usually taught, after many successes and even more failures. We were finally comfortable in our own skin, and able to move through the world without comparison or envy or despair that we’d never be enough. Our bodies taught us the lesson of humility, because eventually, we were all the same. The shell is our armor and it slowly disintegrates until it is our time. The clock that used to signal a need for babies now warns us of our limited time.

  “I think it’s wonderful,” I said truthfully. “My daughter and granddaughter are with me on this trip.”

  “What a blessing. To experience this type of beauty with family is everything. What was your favorite place so far?”

  The waiter briefly interrupted, and Milton ordered a Pellegrino and a glass of Pinot Grigio.

  “My favorite was Naples. We only stayed a few hours, but it’s the place my parents were born and met, so it was special.”

  “We go there for a few hours also. I had an aunt who came from Florence, so I’m looking forward to the visit. Where else did you go?”

  We compared notes on our itineraries and the waiter brought the drinks. Time flowed effortlessly as we chatted with an easy camaraderie, like we’d known each other forever. He spoke of his three grandchildren and his four daughters with a pride I understood. He opened up about his family—how his youngest lost her boyfriend in a car crash and suffered from PTSD; how the middle child took years to conceive before finally adopting newborn twins; and how his wife had been taken by lung cancer even though neither of them had ever smoked.

  Something shifted and allowed me to open up with this stranger who felt like a friend. “When I first asked Frannie to go to Italy, she said no. She runs her own advertising agency, and it keeps her busy. I’ve watched her relationship with Allegra get worse year by year, and I thought a trip would give us the time we needed to bond again. Then Allegra got caught smoking pot and was arrested. Frannie finally agreed to get her away for the summer.”

  He whistled low. “Tough. The drugs are hard with this generation—they’re everywhere and there’s peer pressure. Has the time together worked out?”

  “A bit. The first week, Frannie worked nonstop and Allegra refused to speak to her. It felt like the same dynamics as back home. But this past week, something changed. My daughter put her phone away, and I see my granddaughter opening up a bit. Of course, there’s also a boy.”

  “There’s always a boy,” Milton said with a laugh. “The question is—is he a nice boy?”

  “Very. Frannie had Allegra via a sperm donor.” I still winced when I said it aloud, even though I’d gotten used to it and thanked that man every day for the gift of my granddaughter. “So Allegra struggles a bit with her place here without a traditional family.”

  “Makes sense. How old?”

  “Eighteen.”

  He nodded. “Eighteen is such a sensitive age. They’re supposed to know what they want to do for a career and suddenly be an adult just because of a number.”

  “Exactly.” I gave another sigh. “I watched Allegra when she was a baby so Frannie could work. I think my daughter resents our close relationship. And growing up, Frannie was much closer to my husband, Jack. Somehow, we lost our way and haven’t gotten it back. I don’t know, it’s kind of a mess between all of us.”

  “Ah, family drama. Where would we be without it? I know what you mean, though. My youngest, Christy, was horrible to her mother. She was definitely a daddy’s girl and I spoiled her, sometimes to the detriment of my wife. They had a long struggle but became very close before my wife passed. I think time and Christy’s own experiences made a difference. It sounds to me like you’re already making progress here, especially with your daughter. Sometimes, our children forget we’re just people like them who make our own mistakes.”

  It was true. Children seemed to put parents on a pedestal, just so they could knock them off in their teens. As time passed, we’d been ground into the dirt with no idea how we got there. But talking to Milton helped put some things into perspective. It was nice to share with someone who understood.

  Soon, our glasses were empty, the moon had risen high in the sky, and a few hours had gone by.

  I shook my head when I looked at my watch. “My goodness, I must go soon. Allegra is out, so I need t
o be back by eleven.”

  “I’ve taken up your whole evening. I’m sorry—I’m usually not so bold, but there was something that pulled me toward you. I’ve enjoyed this.”

  I smiled. “Me too. I’m glad you asked. Do you have your next adventure planned after this?”

  “Yes, I’ve always wanted to see Paris. Look up at the Eiffel Tower, view the Mona Lisa, and put my feet on the ground of Normandy to remember World War II and our soldiers’ sacrifice.”

  I gave a longing sigh. “That would be an amazing trip. I’ve had Ireland and Paris on my list to visit.”

  “Then maybe you will join me.” His blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. When the waiter came over with the check, he asked for paper and a pen and quickly began scribbling. “I’m going to give you my email address. I’m planning the trip in eight months. This tour company caters to singles, so it’s a nice group to travel with. Oh, I’m also on Facebook, where I post all my pictures of the kids and stuff.”

  I laughed. “Well, it sounds amazing, but I’m not sure I can go to Paris.”

  He looked up and our gazes locked. “Sophia, I understand it sounds crazy. We’ve just met. My kids couldn’t believe I did this tour on my own—they were worried and tried to talk me out of it. I love my children, and I loved my wife. But I don’t know what lies before me, or how long I get to be here. It’s time to see the sights I’ve only dreamed about. Make the most of every precious moment. You deserve to go to Paris, or any other place you want. Don’t you agree?”

  I hesitated, fascinated by the intensity of his words and the truth that struck me full force. He was right. I never imagined doing anything outside of my safe circle anymore. My days were filled with routine and revolved around Allegra and Frannie. Maybe it was time I began branching out and experiencing more. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded with understanding. “Of course—it’s damn scary taking off on your own across the world. But already, I feel like I’m hooked.”