Chapter Eight
My pastry chefs have chemistry!
Well, at least they do for this scene, and it’s a relief.
I’ve been writing all morning, and I don’t hate what I’ve written.
That alone is an accomplishment I haven’t achieved in a while, and I want to keep going, but I’ve got a written interview I need to complete before the end of the day, I owe Scott a phone call, and I’ve got a Zoom meeting with an executive producer about one of my series she has questions about.
None of these people know how I’ve been struggling lately, and it’s kind of a relief to bang out nearly an entire scene this morning and not freak out about it.
Of course, the source of this inspiration wasn’t Italian food or even Italian wine. It was one Italian woman, and I’m not so naive that I don’t get that. What to do with it is another story entirely.
Because I want to text her.
I want her to inspire me some more.
Is that a bad thing? “I don’t think so,” I whisper aloud, and Reggie lifts his head from his place on the couch and looks at me with what I’m certain is suspicion. Or possibly judgment.
“What?” I ask. He stares for a moment longer, then sighs the most put-upon sigh I’ve ever heard and rests his head again.
“Nice,” I say. “Nice.”
I decide to put the pastry chefs to bed—not literally; they’re not ready for that yet—and take Reggie for a walk before I start in on my afternoon work.
It’s hot again, no surprise there, but September is closing in and the weather forecast promises slightly cooler temperatures in the next couple of weeks.
Will I still be here then?
It’s a good question, one I contemplate as Reggie and I stroll down the block, but before I can dwell too much on it, my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I look at my watch, I see it’s Chloe, my sixteen-year-old niece, a kid I have adored with all my heart since the second she was born.
“Hey, Thumper,” I say in greeting, using the nickname I gave her when she was six months old and used to lift her legs in her crib and drop them back down, thumping loudly and shaking the whole house.
“Hey, Aunt Lil. How’s Italy?”
“Hot,” I say with a chuckle as I stop so Reggie can sniff the corner of a building where I’m sure dozens of dogs have already peed. “But good. How are you? Getting ready to head back to school?”
“I got a couple more weeks. Hey, how much do you love me?”
I grin. This is the question she uses just before she’s about to ask me for a big favor.
“More than the whole universe,” I say, my standard reply. “What do you need? New shoes? Taylor Swift tickets?”
“I need a week in Italy.” She laughs, but there’s an edge to it.
“Are you serious? What do your parents say?”
“They said okay, as long as it’s okay with you and I wouldn’t be in your way.” I can picture her, slight grimace on her face, nibbling on her thumbnail while she waits for my response.
“Sweetie, you’re never in my way.”
“That’s what I told them.”
We both laugh, and just like that, we start setting it up.
By the time Reggie and I get back to the hotel and I reserve a room for Chloe—listen, I love my niece, but I still need to work, and her teenage lifestyle of late nights and sleeping until noon doesn’t jibe with mine—I’m super excited for her arrival.
“She’s a great kid,” I say to Serena later that evening as we sit in her courtyard sipping a crisp Pinot Grigio. “I really want her to meet you.”
“I look forward to it,” Serena says, stroking my dog’s back as he sits draped over her thigh on her glider. “When does she get here?”
“Next week,” I say. “My brother is notorious for waiting until the last minute. I’m guessing Chloe’s been asking him about it since I got here. So, I used my points and got her booked.”
“And she’s okay flying alone?”
“Her parents are big travelers, so she’s flown several times already. She’s an old pro.” It’s one thing I don’t worry about when it comes to Chloe. She’s smart and savvy and takes no shit. She’s got tons more confidence than I had at her age.
“Well, I’m thrilled you’re going to have a visitor from home.”
“Me too.” We sip our wine, and it’s still surprising to me how comfortable I feel hanging with Serena, despite only knowing her for a very short time.
“Do you think some people are just meant to meet? Meant to be friends?” It’s a sappy question, and I give her a look that I hope tells her I’m aware of that fact.
She grins, though, taking away any of my worry. “You mean like me and you?” At my nod, she says, “Absolutely. I think people come into our lives for a reason. We don’t always know what that reason is, but we learn something from everybody that crosses our path.”
“Yeah? What are you learning from me?” My tone is slightly teasing.
Hers is not, and her voice goes soft. “I’m being reminded what it feels like to have a good friend.”
I don’t know where the lump in my throat came from, but it’s suddenly there. “That’s really sweet. I’m very glad we met.” I hold up my wine glass in salute and she does the same, and we sip. “So, what am I learning from you, then?”
“You’re learning how to lighten the hell up and see things that are right in front of your eyes.”
“Interesting. Like?”
“Like joy. Like contentment. Like opportunity.”
I tip my head slightly as her words land. “Interesting,” I say again. “Are you therapizing me?”
“Is that even a word?” She scoffs, but she’s teasing me. “I thought you were a writer.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
We laugh softly and then she says, “How’s Marina? Seen her lately?”
And then we’re off, and I’m telling her all about the wine tasting from the other day and how much fun we had. “I think she shook something loose because I’m writing. Not a ton. And maybe not that great, but it doesn’t suck. I wrote this morning and was actually happy with it.”
“It sounds like she’s been helpful.”
“She really has. In fact, I want to text her again. She said she had a list of other places to show me.”
“She’s a fabulous guide,” Serena says. “I’m so glad you two are enjoying each other’s company.”
I give a little snort-laugh. “I mean, I’m enjoying hers, but I’m sure it’s work for her, so…” I shrug and reach for my glass, but Ria is suddenly there and tops it off for me. Seriously, the woman moves like a ninja.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s work for her.” Serena sips her wine and gazes over the rim at me like she knows something.
Hmm. Cryptic. Well, kinda.
“Regardless, she’s been amazing. And I really want her to meet Chloe. I think they’d hit it off.” I had a vision earlier, after I booked Chloe’s flight, of her and Marina. They were laughing and joking, and I don’t know where it came from, but it filled me with such joy.
“I’m sure they would.” Reggie shifts his position against Serena and sighs happily. I just shake my head as Serena laughs and continues to stroke him.
“He’s so uncomfortable here,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“I see that.” There’s a beat as we both gaze at my adorable dog, and then Serena says, “Hey, circling back to the subject of wine tasting, I’m having a wine tasting here next week. A few friends, a bunch of different wines, Ria’s going to whip up some munchies. Do you and Chloe want to come?”
“That sounds fun. Let me see how she feels about it.”
“She’s welcome to come and bring Reggie, and if she gets bored, she can hang in my guest room where there’s a big TV and all the streaming services.”
“Perfect.”
I thought I could at least wait until the next day before I caved and texted Marina, but I was wrong. It seems that wine lowers not only my inhibitions but also my resolve.
Hi.
A super creative text, it’s true, especially for somebody who writes for a living, though I do follow it up with a smiley emoji. So, there’s that.
It doesn’t take long for Marina to respond. The dots start bouncing right away. Ciao, bella. Can’t sleep either?
I frown, then notice the time. Nearly one in the morning. Apparently, wine also renders me unable to tell time.
OMG , I type, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. Ignore me. Go back to sleep.
The dots bounce again, then, I wasn’t sleeping, and I have no desire to ignore you.
A pleasant little flutter shows up in my stomach, and I try to pretend I’m not smiling, but I am. Of course I am. I type, Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s late.
The dots bounce, then stop for a moment, then bounce some more, then stop again, as if Marina’s having trouble finding the right words. Too many thoughts. It’s a simple, vague explanation that I admire. It’s exactly something I’d send, too.
I can relate to that. I nod as I hit send. My brain never stops.
A beat goes by. Then, How’s the writing?
That perks me up. Much better than last week.
Fantastica! I’m so glad to hear that.
I can’t remember the last time somebody played cheerleader for me. It’s nice. Yeah. Feels a little better. Still a long way to go, but… I let it hang and send it.
Well, I have another idea, if you need more inspiration. She follows that up with a Cupid’s arrow emoji, a heart emoji, and a devil, which is an interesting combination, to say the least.
Oh, really? I type back.
Yes. But we don’t walk. It’s a bit farther, though not far.
I grin as my fingers fly over the keys. Mysterious! I’m in. When?
Her response is immediate, as if she’d already typed it and was just waiting to hit send. Tomorrow?
I literally feel it as my grin blossoms into a wide smile. I admit it. I even laugh softly and try not to overanalyze how much I actually want to spend time with this woman. That sounds perfect. I need to work in the morning, but pick me up in the afternoon?
The dots bounce and her words pop up. I’ll be there by 3. She follows that up with a heart eyes emoji.
Can’t wait , I send.
Sleep well, bella.