Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Valentina
Two weeks later
T he bell jangled as I walked into the café. Sam was all alone behind the counter, sipping an iced coffee and scrolling on her phone. She had her nose ring in today and her black hair was braided into two pigtails. With her pale skin, she looked very Wednesday Adams.
She glanced up as I drew closer. “Val, have you finished this book for book club yet? It’s so boring . I suggested a dark romance, but they picked this one instead. I’m forty percent in and no one has even banged yet.”
I set my wallet and keys on the counter. “No, I haven’t started it. To be honest I’ll probably skip book club this weekend.”
Wincing, Sam looked up from her tablet. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot.”
“It’s okay. I’ve only just mentioned it, so how could you forget?”
“I mean that I forgot about the man who shall not be named. ”
“It’s okay. You can say his name. The entire town knows.”
When I returned from Italy, everyone was talking about what had happened. From the fire and the shooting, to my father, then how Luca was arrested . . . and it was no secret that he’d broken my heart.
“Still, you don’t need any reminders of that giant dick hole. Do you want your usual?”
“Yes, please.”
As Sam went behind the espresso machine, I asked, “Where’s Bev?”
“Running late.” She lifted her eyebrows meaningfully.
Bev had a date with Roberto last night, which could only mean one thing. “Stop. Are you serious?”
“Girl, this is the third time this week.”
“What! How did I miss this?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to talk about how my grandmother is getting laid more than me these days.”
That was fair. “But Roberto hasn’t said anything either, that dog.”
The door blew open and Bev hurried in, her hair wild. “I’m here! I’m so sorry I’m late. My alarm didn’t go off.”
Sam and I exchanged an amused look over the alarm excuse. “No worries, Gram,” Sam said. “We’ve been pretty slow this morning anyway.”
Bev darted into the back and when she returned I could see that the buttons on her shirt didn’t line up. “Did you get dressed in the dark?” I asked, pointing to her shirt.
The older woman glanced down. “Oh, shoot.” She quickly refastened the buttons correctly. “Mercury must be in retrograde right now. I just cannot keep up.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh, as Sam rolled her eyes. “Yep, it’s Mercury alright.”
“What did I miss?” Bev’s head swiveled between the two of us as she wrapped an apron around her waist.
“Not much,” Sam said as she sprayed whipped cream on my iced coffee. “We’re still not mentioning you-know-who and Val isn’t sure if she’s going to book club.”
“Oh, Val. Honey.” Bev grabbed my wrist and squeezed. “Just give it time. I know you probably don’t want advice, but my mother used to say men are like the bus. If you miss one, another is coming along right behind it.”
None of them were like Luca, though. Every man I knew paled in comparison. The pressure behind my sternum increased, making it hard to breathe. I missed him so badly. I couldn’t allow myself to cry anymore, though. This had been my choice. “Thanks, Bev. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I still think you should’ve moved to Italy,” Sam said.
“Move to Italy?” Bev’s eyebrows climbed. “He asked you to move there?”
Only Sam and Maggie knew of my final conversation with Luca. Well, now Bev knew too. “Yes, he asked me to marry him and move there.”
Sam put my drink on the counter. “Sorry, Val. I have a big mouth.”
“You turned him down?” Bev waved away my attempt to pay for my drink. “Tell me why.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.” Bev looked at her granddaughter. “Do you understand it?”
Sam shook her head. “Not even a little. A man like that—rich and handsome—who wants to marry me and take me to an estate in Italy? Y’all would definitely never see the likes of me ever again.”
“Hello?” I interrupted. “I have a business here. A life, friends. My mother’s house. I can’t just up and go.”
Bev’s smile was soft as she reached for my hand. She started walking around the counter. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“Bev, I have to get to the restaurant. ”
“No, you don’t,” she said, leading me toward the far wall. “Roberto wasn’t even dressed when I left. You have time.”
I didn’t comment, though it took all my self-control not to bring up Mercury again.
We stopped in front of a row of familiar photographs. Each one was of the Leaning Tower of Pisa from a different angle. I knew them well.
“Your mother took these photos for me,” Bev said. “When she was studying over there and met your father.”
“Yes, I remember. I love them.” After her death I spent a long time looking at these photos, imagining her standing in front of the famous landmark.
Bev reached to take a frame off the wall. “Have you ever read what she wrote on the back?”
My muscles locked in surprise. “She wrote on the photos?”
“Just this one. And I think it might help you to see it.”
The photo was clipped into the frame. It took Bev some maneuvering but she finally got it out. “Here.” She handed me the large photo and I flipped it over.
Sure enough, there was my mother’s elegant script.
Bev,
What a time this was! I wish you had been able to visit.
Next time, no excuses! Life is short and there is too much joy to experience in the world. We shouldn’t let anything hold us back. Enjoy the pictures.
Love,
Abby
I couldn’t speak, my heartbeat rushing in my ears. Life is too short. If she’d only known. There weren’t any more trips because I’d been born eight months later. Then she died sixteen years after that.
We shouldn’t let anything hold us back.
Tears stung my eyelids. She’d been so determined, so fierce. Independent and strong. And she’d raised me to be the same. So what happened? Why was I afraid of leaving this town?
“Every day I regret not taking that trip,” Bev said gently. “But I convinced myself the café wouldn’t survive if I closed down or let someone else run it for two weeks. I was more worried about money than happiness. And that’s part of what’s wrong with our culture. We value all the wrong things.”
“It’s not money,” I whispered. “The trattoria is her legacy, just like her house and garden. The peeling wallpaper and expired boxes of pudding I can’t stand to throw away. She’s still here and I’m afraid to let her go.”
Bev pulled me into her warm body. She smelled like vanilla. “Honey, you aren’t letting your mother go. Those are just things . Your mother will always be with you, no matter where you are.”
I knew this in theory, but it was still hard to accept. “You think I should move to Italy.”
“I think you should put yourself first for a change. Do what makes you happy.”
Taking in a deep breath, I pulled away and dabbed at my eyes with my fingertips. I didn’t want to ruin my mascara. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now, go get your drink before it melts and Sam starts yelling.”
We both knew Sam was pretty chill, but I returned the photo to Bev and went to the counter. Chuck, the only realtor in town, was paying for his coffee as I gathered my keys, wallet and drink. We knew each other from high school. “Hey, Val,” he said.
“Hi, Chuck. How are you?”
“Never better.” He slipped two dollars into the cafe’s tip jar .
Sam leaned against the counter. “Chuck was saying the Portofino mansion has sold.”
I nearly dropped my iced coffee. Images of espressos on the terrace and long showers assaulted me. Picking out ties and cuddling and purses and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Luca’s former house . . . sold? Now someone else bought that tacky house.
God, the universe hated me.
They were both staring at me oddly. I blurted, “Congrats on the commission, Chuck. See you around.”
And I got the hell out of there before I started crying again.