Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
D arcy hadn’t allowed herself to dream that Rachelle would meet her at the airport. But there she was at eight in the morning Roman time, waving her arms wildly as her dark hair streamed out behind her. She leaped at Darcy, who stank of airplane food and sleep, and screamed in her ear, “You’re here! You’re finally here!” Darcy’s heart sang. Whatever happened, her sister was here. Rachelle couldn’t protect her, but she could make jokes until it was all right again.
Rachelle hugged Joel, Reese, Oriana, Peter, and Tyler after that. Darcy tried to read Joel’s face for the millionth time since yesterday at the airport, when he’d been so sure that Lauren was on her way. “She’s almost here,” he’d told them so many times. “She’ll be here any minute.” Finally, Oriana had convinced him to get on the plane without her. Reese hadn’t said a word. It was like he knew not to poke the bear.
But without a member of their party with them, things felt strained and uneven. Joel looked skittish. He glanced around the airport as though he expected Lauren to hurry up and say, “I’m so sorry I’m late.” But the halls swarmed with Italians greeting each other with frantic hellos. The language was overly enthusiastic for Darcy’s jet lag. Reese suggested they all head back to the hotel and get some rest. They’d meet up later to eat food and explore.
Carlotta had sent two black cars for their party. Joel, Reese, Oriana, Peter, and Tyler grabbed one, which left Rachelle and Darcy alone in the other. It was like they were sixteen again. They opened the top of the large car and poked their heads out to see the gorgeous city come alive in the morning light. Darcy had never seen anything so beautiful. You could feel the density of history beaming off it. She squeezed Rachelle’s hand. Tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak.
This is the first day of the rest of your life.
The driver yelled at them to sit down, but he laughed along with them as they fell back and buckled themselves in. Adrenaline was thick in the air. Nothing could get them down.
“I took today off,” Rachelle announced happily. “But I thought we could eat lunch at the restaurant. If you feel up to it.”
Darcy was touched. She wanted to see where Rachelle worked more than anything. It was good timing, as Carlotta demanded her from tomorrow on for nonstop meetings before the final pitch at the end of the week. After that, their schedule loosened. Then their mother arrived, and they’d be tourists for a few days, at least when Carlotta didn’t demand Darcy’s attendance somewhere. She’d made it clear that Darcy was always “on call.”
“That’s sort of how it feels in the culinary world,” Rachelle said when she heard this. “They have a death grip on my life. And I let them have it!” She laughed and squeezed Darcy’s knee. “It’s been amazing to see you take off like this. I had no idea you had such enormous dreams.”
Rachelle thought she was the only one with dreams. She was wrong.
Carlotta booked their rooms at a four-star hotel down the road from the Coliseum. Reese and Oriana had a room together, Joel shared one with his children, and Darcy had hers to herself. It was insane to watch the bellhop take her suitcase from her and carry it up. Darcy wasn’t accustomed to having other people do things for her. When they reached the room, Rachelle remembered to give him a tip, and Darcy thanked her over and over again after he left with it. “I can’t believe I forgot!”
“This kind of life takes practice,” Rachelle said. “But it sounds like you’ll get plenty of that.”
The hotel room was the size of Darcy’s apartment back home with a beautiful view of the Old Town, the Coliseum, and a large wall upon which someone had painted the words A Dream Remembered. Nantucket wasn’t exactly known for its graffiti, but Darcy decided she kind of liked the idea of a city’s inhabitants deciding what decorated the streets. It felt more immediate and honest.
Darcy took a quick shower and changed into a dress the color of red wine, which she’d borrowed from a coworker at the aesthetician’s clinic. Everyone there thought Darcy was on the verge of greatness and generally assumed they’d have to say goodbye to her soon. They kept saying how proud they were. It made Darcy all the more certain that she had to succeed.
Before they left, Darcy checked her phone to see that Steven hadn’t texted her after his second gig last night. Her imagination ran off with itself. He met someone else. It’s already happened. She shook it off and smiled at Rachelle, who said, “Let’s get out of here.”
It was time.
Rachelle and Darcy raced through the streets of Rome with just as much passion and joie de vivre they’d had as barefooted kids on a Nantucket beach. Rachelle paused at random street corners or in front of odd bars to say, “I kissed a very handsome Frenchman here” or “This place has the best cheese in the city.” Sometimes they walked in silence, and Darcy lapped up the world around her, pinching herself. This was really happening. She was in Rome with her sister. She was going to get investors for her app. She could taste it.
Rachelle led her to Diana’s restaurant, where Diana had once interned many years ago during the summer she’d fallen in love with her ex-husband Ryan. The lore of the great Diana March was incredibly textured. Rachelle tried and failed to make Darcy understand all of it.
Diana was out for the day with her daughter, Valentina, but another chef cooked in her and Rachelle’s place, waving from the kitchen door as Darcy and Rachelle took the best table in the house. Rachelle ordered in swift Italian, and the server brought two glasses of red wine and appetizers of olives and cheese. Darcy’s heart sank. She was pretty sure the harder cheese was okay for pregnancy, but she knew one hundred percent the wine was not. How could she fake it?
Rachelle chatted easily about her life abroad. It felt as though she’d been here a lot longer than a month.
“Let’s make a toast,” Rachelle said, interrupting herself. “To your future!”
Darcy laughed nervously and clinked her glass with Rachelle’s. Rachelle closed her eyes and filled her mouth with wine. Darcy checked to see if there was anywhere to pour the wine. Back on Carlotta’s yacht, she always managed to pour it out in the bathroom or off the side of the boat. So far, Carlotta hadn’t noticed. She’d been too entranced with her own performance.
“Tell me more about this new guy you’re seeing,” Darcy urged Rachelle.
Rachelle wagged her brows. “Why don’t you tell me more about Steven? How is his tour going?”
Darcy’s stomach stirred at the memory that he hadn’t texted her back. She kept her smile plastered to her face. “I asked you first.”
Rachelle rolled her eyes. This was their forever game. “ Fine. You win. Thibault is half French, half Italian and just about the best kisser I’ve ever met. Can you imagine if I’d actually ended up with Eddie?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Do you ever get people here at the restaurant who watched the reality show?”
“I’m not sure. I’m usually stuck in the back,” Rachelle said.
“Carlotta watched it. She said you were her favorite.”
Rachelle smiled. “I can’t wait to meet this woman.”
Darcy felt a spike of adrenaline. She was suddenly struck with the feeling that she didn’t want Rachelle to meet Carlotta. She didn’t want Carlotta to give Rachelle all that attention and decide she liked Rachelle more. Everyone always liked Rachelle more. She was prettier. She was better at stuff. She was smarter.
But she said, “Yeah! I’m sure we can find a day.”
She cursed herself for being such a control freak. What had gotten into her? She raised her glass of wine to her lips and pretended to take a sip as Rachelle told another story about her five weeks in Rome. It was hard to imagine her ever coming home.
The server came out with two plates of pasta with anchovies. Darcy’s heart seized. Are you allowed to eat anchovies? She really didn’t know. She excused herself to the bathroom to check her phone. The internet said she could eat one portion of anchovies per week—but no more. She breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately felt overwhelmed with jet lag and morning sickness and threw up. It’s okay. You’ve got this. She shivered to her feet and left the stall. She let out a scream of surprise. Standing at the sink was Rachelle with her arms crossed over her chest. She was scowling and smiling at the same time, which was something Darcy didn’t think was possible.
“You little liar,” Rachelle accused.
Darcy washed her hands and didn’t answer. Her heart slammed in her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But Darcy had left her phone on the bathroom sink with the screen still bright. The search term was: Can pregnant women eat anchovies ??
It was clear as day.
Darcy let her head roll forward. She was suddenly, horribly exhausted. Why had she let Rachelle drag her all over the city like this? She should be resting. She should be preparing for her big nights out with Carlotta. She should be perfecting her pitch!
But before she could answer, Rachelle threw her arms around her and burst into tears. “Darcy! Oh my gosh! Darcy!” She shook against her and held her close.
Darcy was crying, too. Wrapped so tightly in the arms of the person she loved most in the world, she realized how horrible it had been to carry this secret by herself. The tension in her shoulders melted. Rachelle pulled back and gaped at her. Her eyes were bloodshot.
“I wondered why you weren’t drinking your wine!” she said, hiccuping.
Darcy winced and let out a long sigh. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“Anyone except Steven?”
Darcy pressed her lips together.
“Oh,” Rachelle said. Her face fell. “Why?”
Darcy turned to look at herself in the mirror. She pulled her hair in a loose ponytail. How could she explain it? She couldn’t tell Rachelle that Rachelle always got what she wanted, while Darcy was left with whatever she could bring together.
“I just want these two weeks in Rome to mean something,” Darcy said.
Rachelle touched Darcy’s shoulder. The silence in the bathroom was thick and heavy.
“If Carlotta finds out, she might drop me.”
Rachelle furrowed her brow. “That’s crazy, Darcy. Women have babies all the time. And she’s a woman.”
“She isn’t like normal women.”
“Meaning what? She’s cruel? Manipulative?”
It wasn’t the first time Darcy had heard Carlotta referred to as “manipulative.” She shivered and wondered if, ultimately, all successful women were called that. Maybe they were all punished for getting what they wanted.
“I just want to prove I’m worthy of her time. After we secure the investment, she will stay in Rome anyway. She won’t have to know about the baby.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Rachelle said softly.
Darcy turned to smile at her sister. “It’s all going to be fine.”
Those were her famous last words.