by Karina Halle
“And what if you can stay here?” he asks. “Legally. Would you?”
I swallow. A few weeks ago I would have said yes with no question. Now I’m not so sure. What changed? I look up at him and think that it can’t be my feelings for him. “How could I stay?”
“We prove to the government that we are serious about each other. We can call upon witnesses like Signora Bagglia, or your friend Shay, or maybe even Felisa if I can ever get ahold of her. We have pictures. The government looks more kindly on love than they do employment.”
Love?
He cups my face in his warm hand and looks deep into my eyes, so intently that I think he can see every hidden layer I have deep inside.
“Amber,” he says in a low, husky voice. “I am madly in love with you.”
My eyes widen. My heart fizzes like popped champagne.
“I knew I would fall hard for you, from the moment we first met. That’s probably why you got under my skin so fast. I knew I couldn’t let someone like you go. You were supposed to teach the twins, but you ended up teaching me.”
“About what?” I whisper as his lips come closer to mine.
“About love,” he says, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “About life. About dreams and fears. And family. You taught me about everything I had forgotten and things I’d never known. And the only way I can repay you is with my heart. You one hundred percent have my heart. It may not be worth much coming from a troubled man like me, but it’s real and it’s yours. Ti amo, mia leonessa.”
He kisses me and it’s flush with tenderness. His look, his words, this kiss—it all reaches deep into my chest, into my soul, and shakes me loose. I feel like there’s a sun rising inside me and it’s so close to banishing the clouds for good.
If only I could let it.
I have to let it.
We break apart just long enough for me to whisper, “I love you, too.”
His breath hitches and when I look at his eyes, so dark and beautiful, they are wavering with emotion. “Is this true?”
A wide, delirious grin breaks across my face. “Yes. Si. Ti amo. I love you, Derio, I love you.”
And then, as he kisses me again, so passionately that my toes curl and my heart somersaults, it hits me like a fiery sledgehammer. I am in love with this man. This man loves me.
He loves me.
That night, while the twins are asleep in the other room, we make quiet love to each other. It is a night I will never forget as he undresses me by the open curtains, the moonlight streaming in and making us glow silver. He does this slowly, carefully, as if we have all the time in the world. His hands and lips and eyes make love to my body before the rest of him can begin.
There is a desperate, needy undercurrent to our love-making, the term feeling so official now that we are drowning in our words of love for each other: I love you, ti amo, hai conquistato il mio cuore. I love that last one. He whispers it to me moments before he comes—you have conquered my heart.
This feels like the biggest prize of all.
And my heart . . . well, he conquered mine a long time ago.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Love makes you do foolish things. That’s why there are so many movies, plays, and songs written about it. When you’re in love, you don’t think straight. But in some cases, you think more clearly than ever.
Love makes you bold.
The next morning, at the end of our trip to Pompeii in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, we watch Annabella as she brings cups of water for the stray dogs that roam around the place, hiding out in the shade.
“I think you have a little animal lover on your hands. Maybe she’ll be a vet,” I tell Derio.
He smiles at this but it falters at the corners. I realize I’ve said this as if I won’t be around in the future.
As we walk out of the grounds, grabbing fresh lemon sodas from food carts, Derio hugs me close to him and says, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think I’m going to race again.”
I can’t help stopping in my tracks. “What?!”
He grins at me and nods. “Yes. I think it makes sense. I am here when I never thought I would be, I have your heart when I never thought I would. I think it’s time for me to go back to racing.”
He looks at the kids, who are staring at him with big eyes.
“What do you all think?” he asks. “Me back on a motorcycle.” He makes the motion with his hands and grumbles like an engine.
“Cool!” Alfonso says.
Annabella is more reserved. “Are you going to get hurt?”
I hate to admit it but that’s what I’m afraid of, too. I look at him for his answer.
“I may get some bumps and bruises,” he explains, putting his hand on her shoulder. “But I will not get hurt. I promise you.” He fixes a steady gaze on me. “And I promise you. I will take it slow and easy. I need time to build myself up again, if I ever get to where I once was. I won’t be a fool this time.”
But I am certain that being a fool at times was what got Derio to all those championships. I’m sure there are a million analogies about life and racing but I know that you can’t get anywhere without taking risks, even ones that don’t seem foolish at the time.
He leans in closer to me. “This will be good,” he says softly. “Trust me. Taking time off has taught me a lot, just as you have. You make me feel so brave, so bold. Free. I don’t have to do this for fame or for money or to keep a wife happy. I can do it for the fun of the ride, for the joy of it all.” And I can see in his eyes that the joy is slowly being rekindled. Even if this will make me worry about him, I could never deny him his joy.
“I trust you,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek. “Do what makes you happy. Do what makes you feel alive.”
He brings his lips to my ear. “You make me happy. You make me feel alive,” he murmurs, his mouth grazing me.
The kids are looking at us with unamused expressions.
“All right,” I say, taking a quick sip of my lemon soda. “Who wants to go back to Capri and go swimming in the pool!?”
“Si, si!” the twins cry out.
“Si!” Derio raises his hand. I punch him lightly in the arm and we go to catch the train back to Naples.
* * *
What I’ve learned about Derio is when he gets an idea to do something he jumps into it one hundred and ten percent. He lives like he loves, with passion and perseverance and complete commitment.
After we come back from Naples, he’s like a changed man. Actually he had a minor panic attack on the ferry ride back since we took the hydrofoil and hit a patch of rougher water. But he pushed through it, and when we got back to Capri, he started going after his motorcycle dreams with gusto.
First he starts going out on the bike more, early in the mornings, just zipping around the island and racing the sunrise. He still spends time in his library on occasion, editing the manuscript, but for the most part he’s either on his bike, talking about his bike, or fixing his bike.
Apparently he had more than a few of them but sold them after he quit, so he makes it his mission to start getting them back. Meanwhile, he pursues our plan for me to stay here by asking Shay and Signora Bagglia to write testimonies about our relationship. They do so happily, even though Shay hands hers over with tears in her eyes, still hurting after Danny left. I make a promise to come to the bar more in the near future.
But the near future always seems out of reach. With Derio back to racing, he takes frequent day trips to Naples . . . then Sorrento . . . then Salerno. There’s only so much training you can do on Capri, but his frequent trips to the professional tracks in Salerno means he’s gone for two or three nights at a time.
And me? Well, I am stuck firmly in the position of nanny, looking after the children in Capri. We both agreed that the tracks aren’t a good place for kids to hang out, and Derio needs his space to get back into the game.
And I feel for him, I really do. It can
’t be easy to give up everything to take care of your brother and sister when it was never in the cards. As much as he tries to do his best by them, he’s still their older brother. He’s not their father and they’re not his kids.
But I’m not their mother either, though it’s beginning to feel like it. And not in a good way. Because as close as I have gotten to them, there’s always this constant reminder that they aren’t mine. They had wonderful, successful parents and I’m getting paid to take care of them. If you took away the financial aspect . . . well, it’s a pickle. Do I really want to give up my whole life to take care of someone else’s kids, no matter how I feel about them?
I honestly don’t know. But I’m asking myself that question more and more these days, especially when Derio is gone and I’m in the big house all alone with them.
September ushers in a week of fog that wraps around the whole island and doesn’t seem to let go. It’s wonderful at first—the temperature is cooler, the sun isn’t in your eyes, and there are fewer tourists on the streets. But it overstays its welcome and becomes claustrophobic.
Derio has been gone for three days at a famous racetrack in Tuscany but he’s supposed to arrive back here sometime in the early evening. I’ve prepared one of the dishes we learned in our cooking class, roast chicken with olives, and it looks like it’s turning out beautifully. Though I’m wearing a dress and light cardigan, underneath I’m wearing a racy bra-and-panties set I picked up yesterday at an end-of-season sale at Prada. I want to welcome him home in style. This week, of all the weeks, has been the hardest, and though I’ve been texting him, it sometimes takes him forever to respond. I love him so much but it feels like the bond we share is slowly fraying as we spend more time apart.
I can’t let that happen. And sexy lingerie is always a good Band-Aid.
“When is Derio coming? I’m hungry,” Alfonso grumbles as he sits down at the table, staring at the empty plate.
“He’ll be here any minute,” I tell him. “Where is your sister?”
“She’s on her iPad, talking to Gia.”
The kids have started school again which has helped me out a bit, having them occupied during the day. Annabella has become good friends with Gia, though I forbid her from using any Internet chat devices to talk to her friends. Call me old-fashioned but I just don’t think she’s old enough for that kind of communication yet.
Of course, Alfonso is bitter that she’s made a friend and that’s why he’s tattling on her.
“You wait here,” I tell him and then pop my head around the staircase. “Annabella!” I yell. “No Internet, remember? Put it away and come down here!”
Alfonso has a smug smile on his face and I shake my finger at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did.”
He mouths, What? in mock surprise just as my cell phone rings.
It’s Derio.
“Hey,” I answer happily.
“Amber,” he says and he doesn’t sound as happy as I am. “I am in Naples. It is too foggy for the ferries to run. I am sorry but I won’t be coming home tonight.”
I can hear people talking to him in the background. “Really?”
“Yes, the ferries aren’t running anymore. You can check. I came here early just in case but they aren’t sailing until tomorrow, if the fog clears.”
My heart sinks in my stomach like a stone. I can’t believe how disappointed I feel. “Oh.”
“I am so sorry,” he says.
“I miss you. I made a special dinner and everything,” I tell him, struggling to hide the hurt in my voice. I know it’s not his fault that it’s foggy but I can’t rationalize my disappointment.
“I miss you, too,” he says. “I love you and I wish I could be there. You know this.”
“I know,” I repeat despondently. The talking in the background gets louder. “Who is that?” I ask.
“Paolo and Andre. They drove me here,” he explains. “Paolo lives outside Naples, I will stay with him tonight.”
Sure, you get to stay with your friends tonight, but what about me? I think. Now I sound as bitter as Alfonso.
“Well, I’ll take pictures of the dinner for you and you can pretend that you ate it,” I tell him.
“Amber, please. This is not my fault.”
“No, of course not,” I say. “I’ve got to go, your brother and sister are starving. See you tomorrow.” And then I hang up the phone.
Alfonso is frowning at me. “He isn’t coming?”
I sigh and shake my head. “No.”
Annabella comes into the kitchen. “Where is Derio?”
“Not coming,” Alfonso says loudly. “He doesn’t care about us anymore.”
I fold my arms. “You guys, that just isn’t true. He loves you.”
“But you’re upset,” Alfonso says. “So why can we not be upset?”
“You’re right,” I tell them. “Be upset. But he still loves you.”
“And he still loves you, yes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I mumble. I pick up my phone and decide to text Shay.
Hey, sorry I never showed up at the bar the other night. Derio is gone all the time and I have the kids. Do you want to come over after your shift? I can save some dinner for you.
I wait and take the chicken out of the oven. It does smell and look divine, the skin a gorgeous crispy brown, the olives plump and juicy. I take a picture of it with my phone to show Derio later and get a reply text from Shay.
Not working tonight. They hired someone else to replace me. I can come over now? I’ll bring the wine.
I tell her to hurry her ass over. The house she was renting with Danny is on one of the streets near Marina Grande so it shouldn’t take her long. Even so, the three of us can’t hold off eating any longer. We dig into the food and it’s just as amazing as it looks.
This is what you’re missing, I text to Derio, along with the picture I took.
But there is no response from him.
Luckily, Shay shows up with two bottles of wine—which means she means business—just as we’re done eating and helps me do the dishes and put everything away. Annabella and Alfonso are fascinated by the pretty girl but eventually tire of us talking and go up to their rooms for the night.
It’s too dark and foggy out to relax on the patio so we stay in the kitchen to drink and talk. Shay does most of the talking at first. She’s brokenhearted over Danny and has no idea what to do with herself.
“But you have to go somewhere,” I tell her. “You can’t stay here.”
She frowns at me, her pink lips pouting. “Why not?”
“Would you want to stay on Capri if it reminded you of the last place you were in love? I don’t know, I think I’d feel so . . . trapped. If we break up, I’m definitely not sticking around this rock. I love it and all but . . . it’s not home without him.”
She appraises me through her long lashes. “Are you breaking up?”
“No,” I quickly say, taking a gulp of my wine. “Not at all. I’m just saying.”
She sighs. “Yeah. You’re right, though. I won’t be staying here for long. But if I go back home there’s a tiny chance I won’t be allowed in Europe for a while so I might as well stay here while I can.”
“What are you going to do?”
She shrugs and looks at her nails, which are painted bright coral. Actually, she’s wearing a fair amount of makeup, which is a change because when I first met her she wasn’t wearing much at all. I guess she’s trying to make herself feel pretty after losing Danny. I know I always lost revenge weight after a relationship went wrong.
“I was thinking I would go up to Scandinavia. Finland, Sweden, Norway.” She gets this faraway look in her eyes. “I had an ex-boyfriend in high school I was madly in love with. He was from Norway. I’ve been interested in the country ever since.”
I raise my brow. “Hunting down your ex-boyfriend in Norway sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not saying I would hunt hi
m down. I don’t even know where he lives, if he lives there at all. But it’s a beautiful country, and maybe I’ll meet a sexy Viking. They can’t all be assholes who cheat on you.” She spits out that last part and then her face crumbles.
“Oh, Shay,” I whisper. “Did Danny cheat on you?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She blinks, looking up at the ceiling, and waves her fingers at her eyes. It seems to keep her tears at bay. “I’m not staying here.”
I raise my glass. “Well, it will be a shame to see you go.”
She gives me a grateful smile and clinks her glass against mine. “I know. I wish we’d gotten to know each other better.”
I take a sip of wine, wanting to finish the whole glass in one go. It’s just one of those kind of nights. “That’s my fault. You kept inviting me but I just couldn’t find the time.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” she says. “It’s just life.” She looks around her at the kitchen and the rest of the house. “I don’t understand how you can do this, to be honest. I mean, the kids are sweet but you’re practically their mother.”
“I know.”
“And that wasn’t really in the job description. Would you have applied for the position at all if you knew you were going to be a nanny like this?”
“No.”
“And you’re not even a nanny, Amber. You’re like . . . I don’t know. A superhero. I know you get paid for this but how long are you planning to keep this up?”
I frown and my chest gets this cold feeling. “What do you mean?”
She purses her lips together before speaking. “I mean, you’re with Derio. You love him, don’t you? But he’s never here and you’re the one taking on all the work. I know you don’t want to let the kids or him down, but didn’t you have other dreams or plans for your life? Even if you can get this visa to stay here longer, can you continue in this role? You’re so young but suddenly you’re here and you’re thrust into this situation.” She pauses and sends me a sheepish glance. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t even know you that well to be making all these assumptions. I just . . . I feel like one day you’re going to crack, you know? I know what it’s like to resent someone you love. It was Danny’s idea to travel, not mine. And the first month out here, I hated it. I missed my home, my friends, my family. Even my old stupid job at the bookstore. I missed speaking English and having people understand me and I missed my favorite brand of yogurt. And I hated Danny for making me come here. Obviously, I got over it but that resentment was really strong. We almost broke up then. I should have taken that as a sign.”