Chapter 38
Hallie
I was fairly certain I hadn’t changed my underwear in almost three days.
Tissues and various old bowls of popcorn littered the couch.
Wine glasses and empty plates sat on the coffee table.
I was sure I looked absolutely pathetic, but the moment I got back from Sophisticate , it was like the floodgates had opened.
I mourned the loss of my job and my potential relationship all at once.
The second I crossed the threshold into my apartment, the tears started, and four days later, they were just drying up.
Roxie came out of her room, barefoot and wearing one of her old NYU sweatshirts. She looked at me for a moment, holding something behind her back.
“Before I hand this over,” she said, her voice softer than usual, “can we do a quick check in?”
She stepped into the living room, now cautiously navigating a minefield of tissues and wine-stained glasses. “Do you need help with rent this month? Or bills? I know you didn’t expect to walk out of Sophisticate like that, and I don’t want you stressing over money on top of everything else.”
I blinked at her, dazed from another afternoon spent face-down in a blanket cocoon. “Rox, you quit your job, too.”
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “But I’ve got a bunch of photography gigs lined up this month—weddings, engagements, a branded shoot for a restaurant. It’s more than enough to cover everything if you need me to float us for a bit.”
My lip quivered at her kindness. “I … I think I’m okay for this month,” I managed, voice scratchy. “But I’ll let you know. I promise.”
“Okay.” She nodded and set something on the coffee table—it was a fresh glass of water and a small stack of Saltines. “Now,” she said, pulling her phone from behind her back, “I have someone on the line for you.”
“Who is it?” I croaked.
“It’s your mom.” Roxie held out the phone, her expression somewhere between sympathetic and no-nonsense. It was clear my time wallowing on our couch was over.
I hesitated, my throat still raw from days of crying. Taking a deep breath, I reached out and reluctantly accepted the phone.
My mom’s voice, filled with concern, wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t realize I needed.
“Hallie? Are you there?”
Hearing her made my chest ache. I missed being little, when a hug from her and a grilled cheese sandwich could fix everything.
“I’m here,” I whispered. The words wobbled out of my mouth.
“Roxie said you’re having a hard time?” she asked gently. “What’s happened, honey?”
“I screwed up, Mom,” I sobbed.
Roxie handed me another tissue and I blew my nose into it with the kind of dramatic force that could have scared away wild animals.
My mother listened patiently as I spilled my heart out, sharing mine and James’s story.
From meeting at the dinner party, to our agreement, to my utter surprise when I realized I was developing feelings for him.
I told her how, for a split second, I felt like everything in my life was finally working out.
Only for the universe to laugh in my face, as if I could be that lucky.
“And James won’t talk to you?” she asked gently, once I finally paused for breath.
“No, he hasn’t even opened up a single text I’ve sent him.” Defeat weighed heavily on my shoulders. I simply couldn’t fathom that the two of us were over, just like that.
“Oh, honey …”
Her voice cracked slightly, and somehow that made the tears return, freshly sprung from a well I thought I’d emptied.
“Everything happens for a reason, Hallie. You may not understand it all now, but days, weeks, years from now, you will. All of this has happened to put you in a position that future you will benefit from.”
“But why does this kind of stuff have to hurt so much?” I sniffled.
“The best kinds of things in life don’t come for free.” My mother sighed, as if she knew intimately the pain I was going through. “And if you want my advice, if James won’t listen to you, and you really do like him, then make him listen.”
These were the moments, when life felt too hard to carry by myself, that I wished I lived closer to my family so they could shoulder some of the weight.
But my parents raised me to be strong. She reminded me that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light waiting to guide us forward.
I glanced over at Roxie, who was adding to the mood board we’d created for our website, realizing I knew just the thing to do with what my mom was suggesting.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Now pick yourself up. You’re stronger than this. Just know that your dad and I love you. But most importantly, we believe in you.”
As I hung up the phone, a spark of determination ignited within me.
I stood up from the couch, ready to face the world once again.
The tissues and popcorn bowls scattered around the room suddenly seemed like remnants of a past that no longer defined me.
It was time to clean up the physical mess and, more importantly, my emotional mess. It was time I did something about it.
I took a long, overdue shower while Roxie started on our apartment. By the time I stepped out of the steamy bathroom, I felt brand new.
“So, what’s the plan?” Roxie asked me as she loaded the last of the dishes in our dishwasher, one of the prized possessions of our tiny New York apartment.
Between the two of us, I was normally the organized one, the one with a plan.
While Roxie moved with the wind and made decisions based on “vibes”.
“First, we need to complete the website. I know you’ve been working on it over the past few weeks. But if we can get it to a place where we are happy with it, then we can get our first review up. Which means, we also need to take a trip to Brooklyn.”
Roxie’s eyes sparkled. “It’s about damn time.”
Roxie was practically salivating as our taxi stopped in front of Rossi Pizzeria. Her eyes took in the late-eighteenth-century architecture, her fingers itching toward her camera.
“This place is amazing,” she murmured, pressing her nose against the taxi window.
“Just wait until you taste the food. It is the full package.” I could practically taste the tomatoes, garlic, and perfectly baked pizza dough already.
Just as before, the gold-tin ceiling, wine bottle chandeliers, and roaring wood-fired ovens in the back kitchen greeted us upon entering. The restaurant was still far emptier of customers than it deserved to be. I hoped that mine and Roxie’s work would change that.
My stomach was nearly in my throat as we stepped toward the empty hostess stand.
I didn’t know who was working today, if I’d come across James’s aunt, his cousin, his father, his uncle, or Lorenzo, his grandfather.
They had welcomed me with open arms over dinner two weeks ago.
Now, I wasn’t sure they would do the same.
“Hallie!” James’s aunt, Maria, stood up from a table in the back where she and Brandon had been having lunch.
Her surprised expression was expected. Part of me wondered if they’d chase me out of the place with pitchforks after what Anthea had done to my article.
“Are you here for lunch?” Maria asked me. She greeted me with a warm smile, like nothing had happened.
“Actually, we were hoping to do a review of the restaurant.” I motioned to Roxie, who was holding her camera next to me. “It was something James had asked of me when we first met and I want to make sure I follow through on it.”
I saw it then—the quick, fleeting look of fear I knew would come was etched into her features for a moment. A pit of shame filled my stomach.
I reached out and softly touched Maria’s arm.
“You have to know that the article that came out in Sophisticate was not the article I wrote. It’s a long story and not worth rehashing.
But I left the magazine after I figured out what happened.
I have every intention of putting a positive spotlight on this restaurant. You can trust me on that.”
Maria’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen where Lorenzo was sprinkling some parmesan and oregano on top of a pizza. “Let’s get you to our best table. The light on one of the tables at the front by the windows would look good in pictures, don’t you think?”
She didn’t question my revelation any further as she led us over to one of the many empty tables at the front of the restaurant. I knew it would be hard to show my face here again, but it was nearly unbearable to feel the tension in the air.
“I’ll let Lorenzo know you’re here and send Brandon over to get your orders.” Then she was gone before I could ask her how James was doing.
Maria disappeared into the kitchen, and my apprehension only grew as I watched her speak with Lorenzo.
James’s grandfather looked in our direction, but his expression revealed nothing.
I glanced at Roxie, who seemed unaware of the inner turmoil I was dealing with, her eyes fixated on capturing the essence of Rossi Pizzeria through her camera lens.
As we settled into our seats by the window, a familiar face approached our table. Brandon, with his signature mischievous grin. “Hallie, long time no see! So, you’re here to review the restaurant? James mentioned you have a big social media account for that kind of stuff.”
“Actually, Roxie and I are going off on our own to do our own thing. The website is still being finished. We have some developers who we are working with, but we want the pizzeria to be the first restaurant we post about. I know we’re not a big, fancy food critic bringing a ton of attention to this place, but I hope it makes a difference.
Roxie’s excited to try everything. I’ve been raving about it since I last ate here. ”
There was an awkward pause as understanding passed between me and Brandon because the last time I was here, I came as James’s date.
But the moment passed as quickly as it came.
Brandon’s eyes twinkled with excitement.
“Well, you’re in for a treat, Roxie. My grandfather has been tinkering in the kitchen this week.
He thought if we bring a new signature pizza to the menu, that might help draw in some traffic.
Our newest pizza creation, the ‘Rustic Italiana,’ is my new favorite.
I’ll make sure it’s on its way to your table shortly.
” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen.
“Well, this ought to be interesting,” Roxie mused. “Everyone’s dancing around the very obvious elephant in the room.”
“I didn’t think showing my face here again would be easy.”
Roxie reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “You’re doing the right thing.”
As I observed the restaurant’s few patrons, I took in their genuine smiles as they ate their pizzas.
Some of them were familiar faces from the last time I was here.
Despite the sparse crowd, there was an undeniable warmth that emanated from the place, a testament to the love and passion the Rossi family poured into their craft.
The success of Rossi Pizzeria meant everything to them, so much so that James was fighting hard for this place, and I was determined to showcase that in my review.
Right after Roxie walked away from the table to capture the restaurant through her camera lens, Maria returned, accompanied by James’s grandfather, Lorenzo.
His eyes twinkled with a mix of wisdom and mischief as he joined us at the table.
It was what had made me feel so welcome the first time I had dinner with all of them.
“Hallie, welcome back,” he said. “I heard you’re here to document the magic of our pizzas. Brave of you, dear.”
Heat flared across my cheeks. My mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again. But still no words came out.
“How is he?” were the first words that finally slipped through my lips.
Lorenzo’s eyes softened.
“He’s been quiet this past week. But I saw how hurt he was when he read that article.”
I nodded my head. I could imagine the betrayal that James felt. The betrayal that he didn’t want to experience again after Cassidy.
“Maria tells me you did not write that article?” Lorenzo’s deep voice held an air of softness.
“No. The published article was nothing like what I’d originally written. My editor changed it all. She thought my article was too sentimental and wouldn’t have generated the readership that the magazine needed.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “I don’t know what the world’s come to that we focus on trying to draw the attention of people on the internet. Yet, here we are. Have you told James this?”
I sighed. “I’ve tried. But he doesn’t want to speak to me. Rightfully so. From the outside it looks like I strung him along and then disrespected him.”
“Well, if it’s meant to be, then the two of you will figure it out.” Lorenzo reached out to pat my hand. “Now tell me about this business you and your friend are starting.”
I smiled. “Roxie and I are starting our own blog. We are still working on getting everything off the ground. She and I are taking some freelance jobs in the meantime to help fund everything, but once it’s up, we would like the first review on the site to be Rossi Pizzeria.”
Lorenzo mulled over my words for a moment. “And you think this will help the restaurant?”
I took a deep breath. “I truly believe it will. Rossi Pizzeria has a story to tell, a story that will resonate with so many other hardworking families across the country. I want our blog to showcase places like this, places that pour their heart and soul into the food they serve to their customers. Between my previous social media account and the connections from the freelance jobs we’ve taken over the years, we have enough of an audience for the restaurant to see a difference. ”
“I’ll bring everything on the menu over for you two. I look forward to seeing what this does. James was so passionate about this, and I have the utmost confidence in my grandson.”
I only wished James were here to see how much his grandfather trusted him.