Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
A t 3 a.m. in Zia Ella’s house in Portland, Lucy called it. She’d lost enough hours tossing in fitful spurts of sleep filled with raw, emotional dreams. Her mind was on the Joel Morgan hamster wheel and there was no getting off anytime soon. Which was why she’d gone to such great lengths to avoid him and stay off the wheel. The only problem was that when the wheel stopped, she missed the hamster.
She let out a long-suffering sigh, kicked off her covers, got out of bed, and started rummaging around the guest room for a sheet of paper. She’d read in a self-help book that the best way to cure the restless brain at night was to write down everything you were thinking, put it in a box, store the box somewhere else in the house, and surrender yourself to sleep knowing that your thoughts were tucked away to be dealt with at another, more appropriate time.
There might never be an appropriate time for her and Joel, but it sure as heck wasn’t at 3:24 a.m. in her aunt’s home.
Coming up empty in the guest room, she padded down the hallway and descended the curved staircase, trying not to creak the hardwood with her footfall as she moved throughout the house in search of a notepad. If her aunt and uncle were anything like her parents, they kept every free promotional notepad they got in the mail.
Her mother was partial to the real-estate related ones because she liked the headshots of the local agents that were front and center on every sheet. She’d told Lucy that she felt like she was on a date with Devon Wiltshire every time she took her grocery list to the store. Knowing her aunt, she’d think the same. They were sisters-in-law through marriage, but Maria and Ella Barone were two peas in a pod.
Lucy stopped short when she entered the kitchen on the ground floor. “Holy sh—” She clamped her hand over her mouth.
The marble countertops overflowed with leftovers. Stacks of cream puffs on serving plates, casserole dishes filed with rows of cannolis, and trays of traditional Italian cookies and biscotti were covered in plastic wrap or paper towels.
Her aunts and cousins spent days cooking for the family events. Even though Mariana’s wedding meal itself had been catered, they’d made enough to feed the village they came from in the old country—where Nico lived before he recently invaded her life.
Lucy went to the fridge and gasped in delight when she found it filled to the brim with charcuterie plates, meatballs, risotto balls, pasta dishes, prosciutto wrapped asparagus spears, and more. It had been a few years since her last family wedding. She’d forgotten the sheer volume of food that these multi day events involved.And since she’d only arrived in Portland this morning, she’d missed most of Mariana’s pre-matrimonial parties.
Better make up for lost time . She filled a plate with finger foods and headed to the dining room, snagging a real-estate notepad off the fridge on her way. Colton Rodrigues was almost as good looking as Devon Wiltshire.
She was digging into her second meatball and writing down her first problem for another time, when her aunt shuffled in carrying her own plate of goodies from the kitchen. Zia Ella wore a red silk robe and matching fuzzy slippers and had her hair in curlers.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Ella said before Lucy could ask, then sat down next to her. “Too much excitement. It has my blood pressure up.” She ate while looking straight ahead into the sunken living room.
“You can’t sleep when your blood pressure’s up?” Lucy queried. There was nothing wrong with Ella’s blood pressure, and they both knew it.
“All the stress of the wedding wreaked havoc on my nerves. Thanks be to God I only have one daughter.”
“Thanks be to God indeed,” Lucy murmured, hiding her smirk by shoving a prosciutto wrapped melon cube into her mouth.
Her immediate branch of the Barone family tree consisted of her father Luciano, his brother Gambo, and their sister Marta. After Luciano had two daughters and Marta had three, Gambo and Ella had Mariana—and decided to be one and done. Because clearly the Y chromosome would not make it into this generation of Barones. For the Italian mamas, life then became all about marrying the six girls efficiently and prestigiously. Like regency England, but in cobbler aprons.
So far, they’d had success with only two. Her cousin Sofia had bagged herself an Italian human rights lawyer who worked for the United Nations. They were currently living in Geneva. And Mariana was now married to the son of the CEO of a famous athletic footwear and apparel company based in Portland.
Which meant four Barone girls remained. Unless you counted Lucy secretly being married to Joel. Which she did not. Because the marriage was a farce and not the least bit legitimate beyond a sheet of paper with a State of Nevada seal on it.
“Luciana, I understand why you did it,” her aunt said as she nibbled on an Italian pastry.
“Did what?” she asked, dragging herself out of her thoughts.
“Kept your engagement a secret.” Zia Ella ate slowly while studying Lucy meaningfully.“You wanted to let your cousin shine on her special day, because you’re a good girl and you know your place.” With a pat on Lucy’s hand, her aunt got up and took both of their plates to the kitchen.
“Right,” Lucy murmured. A good girl who knew her place pretty much summed up what everyone in her family thought about her. Even though she didn’t feel the same way at all. Her ambition was a fireball burning inside her. Her determination gained strength with every day that passed. At Barone & Sons, she oversaw the financials, but she kept her eye on every aspect of business, watching and learning as she plotted and strategized for the best possible future of the company. She was constantly working.
But that’s what no one saw. No one but Joel. The only person who’d ever acknowledged how invested she was, how badly she wanted to keep her father’s legacy alive, and how much she deserved it. He’d been her champion, the one she could talk to about anything. Until he’d left. And now it was just her.
Her aunt returned to the table with two narrow crystal glasses and a bottle filled with clear liquid.
“Zia, it’s four in the morning.”
Her aunt shrugged, filled the glasses, and handed one to Lucy. “Grappa helps with my indigestion.” She took a sip and sighed in relief, as if to prove her point.
Lucy took her glass but didn’t sip. Instead she twirled the glass, letting the floral aroma fill her nostrils.
“That was thoughtful of you, what you did for your cousin,” her aunt said, continuing the previous conversation thread, much to Lucy’s dismay. “But the wedding is over now, and it seems silly to keep such big news to yourself.”
“Is it?” Something about Ella’s tone put her on edge.
“I think we should have a big engagement party while the family is all still in town.”
And there it was.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh Luciana, don’t be selfish. Do you know how much a plane ticket costs these days? Or how exhausting airports are? Do you expect your Zia Marta to fly all the way back from Colorado for another party with her bad knee? What about Nico?”
“What about Nico? He thinks we’re getting married so he can have Barone & Sons while I sit at home with our babies!”
“Pfft.” Ella wiped away the words with a dismissive hand. “That one is a dreamer, like his father. He thinks too little and talks too much. Luciano will never give him Barone & Sons.”
“Are you sure about that?” Lucy muttered. “Nico is the son my father never had. ”
“Wrong. Your father is feeling old and desperate. He is worried about the future of his company, but Nico is not the answer.”
“Have you told either of them that?”
Ella tossed out a laugh. “Barone men are all the same. Pig-headed from the womb. But they always come to the right conclusion. It just takes longer sometimes.”
“You sound sure about that, Zia?”
Her aunt shrugged and took another sip of grappa, nodding to encourage Lucy to do the same. Lucy glanced at the round plastic clock on the wall, 4:28 a.m. What the hell? It was happy hour somewhere, right? The liquid burned a path down her throat.
“You know, Lucy, your bisnonna on your father’s side was a savvy businesswoman.” Ella settled back in her chair as she randomly brought up Lucy’s great-grandmother. “Noemi was ahead of her time by light-years. After the First World War, Italy was a mess. The poor had less than ever, and even the wealthy struggled. Everyone had to start over. Noemi was the oldest child of four. She was just eighteen when the war ended. Her family were farmers, but the land was poor and most of the animals had been killed to feed soldiers. Everyone in the village shared the same fate. Noemi was smart and knew that if they were to thrive again or even just survive, they had to work together.”
Lucy wasn’t sure where this early-morning storytelling was going, but she sat in silence while Ella finished her first drink and then poured another.
“Back then, marriages were not viewed in the romantic way they are these days. Love was a luxury no one could afford. So one day, Noemi asked her father to offer her hand in marriage to the neighboring farmer’s son, who was twelve years older than her. The next day, after she finished her work in the fields, she went to the village and was married. She wore her work clothes, and the church was half rubble from war damage, but she married, and the two families became one. The farms combined, and the land doubled.” Ella gesticulated as if the point had been made.
Lucy sipped her grappa, the warmth of alcohol heating her lips as she listened.
“Your bisnonna had five children. Your nonno was one of them. Your father’s father.” Ella finished her second grappa and sat back with a satisfied smile. “That land is still Barone land. When the families merged, they tore down the farmhouses and built one big one. The villagers were impressed with what the Barones had built and asked for help rebuilding their own damaged and fallen structures. The Barones built barns and houses for many villagers. They even rebuilt the church. Construction is a Barone legacy, brought on by your great-grandmother. It started with her choice.”
The words and grappa swirled around Lucy’s brain. She’d heard the story before. But this retelling…hit different. Or maybe it was the grappa.
“Noemi died three months before you were born. Your father said you inherited her spirit.” Ella patted Lucy’s hand again. “You understand what I’m telling you, Luciana?”
“I think so?” Lucy wasn’t sure she understood anything anymore.
“See, you’re a bright girl. You’ll always find the solution. Now, I’m going back to bed.” Ella rose and cleared their glasses from the table. “Tomorrow I’ll call your mama. Flu or no, she will come to Portland for her daughter’s engagement party. I’m sure of it.” She kissed Lucy on top of her head. “Don’t stay up too much longer, bella. There will be much to do tomorrow. ”
Lucy sat at the table, thinking about her eighteen-year-old great-grandmother and the grit it must have taken to get through that time in history as a young woman with few opportunities. What lessons could she pull from Noemi’s story? Lucy was the opposite in almost every way. Older, college educated, living a life filled with privilege.
You’re a bright girl, her aunt had said.
In the dimly lit room, Lucy looked down at her real-estate notepad and the words she’d written next to Colton Rodrigues’ beaming face.
Problems for another time:
#1—Joel Morgan