Chapter 1 #2
“We really have,” Aurora said, smiling beautifully. It was apparent how much she looked like her grandmother.
Roberto continued to frown, as though he couldn’t figure his daughter out. “And you passed all your classes?”
“Yes, Papa.” Aurora rolled her eyes. “Of course I did.”
“And you’re still on track to graduate in the fall?” Roberto continued.
Lorelei put a hand on Roberto’s back, praying he’d lighten up.
It was clear that Aurora was fine, that she was flourishing here at the White Oak Lodge with her family.
Roberto probably didn’t love that Aurora embraced her American roots so exuberantly.
This was a rather new thing, something that Aurora was experimenting with.
Privately, Lorelei thought it was sweet.
It was like Aurora wanted to act out the American films she’d grown up watching.
Aurora left the kitchen with her cousins, leaving Francesca to cook and Roberto and Lorelei to sit on stools at the counter, sipping a wonderful red wine.
Again, Francesca consoled Roberto, telling him, “Aurora was endlessly curious about this whole scandal with Tio Angelo and, of course, Jack’s return.
She has a very creative mind. She wants to be in the mess of everything and figure it all out herself. ”
Roberto rolled his shoulders back and glanced at Lorelei. “We’ve had many problems with her so-called creative mind over the years, Francesca. You know that.”
“She’s twenty-two,” Francesca told him. “She’s going to do what she wants to do, now. That’s the way it works.”
But Roberto looked troubled and gray-faced.
It didn’t do any good to explain this to Francesca, but the plan had already been set in stone, as far as Roberto was concerned.
After Aurora’s final semester at business school, she would take over at the Sardinia restaurant, stepping into all managerial roles and ensuring that the place got off the ground and finally made the family some money.
Finally made Roberto some money. Aurora had always been flighty and weightless and entirely too “free-spirited” for her own good, and Roberto was certain that business school and a powerful position at the restaurant would help.
Lorelei wasn’t so sure, but she never said so. Not to Roberto. Not to anyone.
After eating enormous platters of pasta complete with Francesca Whitmore’s should-have-been-world-famous sauce, Roberto went back to the suite to rest, leaving Lorelei alone with her mother.
Lorelei knew better than to ever admit to her mother that Roberto was secretly jealous of Francesca’s cooking despite his years of training all over the world at various culinary institutions.
It was true, though, that Lorelei preferred her mother’s cooking and always would.
Lorelei cleaned the dishes, then poured them both second glasses of wine.
Together, they went to the veranda, where they could see the sparkling ocean, the newly refurbished horse barn, the sweeping lawn, and more of the cousins, who were on the beach, bundled up against the sixty-degree temperatures.
Aurora was with them, of course. Summer was coming up quickly, but Massachusetts still held tightly to its colder air.
“How are you feeling, Mama?” Lorelei asked, her heart ballooning with love for this woman. It had truly been harrowing to watch her get so sick.
Francesca’s smile waned the slightest bit.
“It’s true what they’re saying,” she offered.
“The cancer is gone from my body. I’m healed, or as healed as I can be for now.
They’ll check back every six months or so.
Nonstop tests, maybe for the rest of my life.
Goodness.” She paused. “But it’s been a trying time for me.
I’m sure you know I went to see my brother. ”
Lorelei nodded and reached for her mother’s hand.
Francesca’s face was filled with shadows.
“It is Angelo’s fault that I lost my family.
It is his fault that Jack was forced to leave, that Benjamin left me, that we lost so much time…
” She sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know how to carry all that heartache.
So many years of it! And now.” She gestured toward the mighty White Oak Lodge behind her.
“Now, we’re reopening. I can’t help but think it might be a mistake.
What if this old place is cursed? What on earth can happen to the Whitmores next? ”
“No,” Lorelei said firmly. “Angelo is a very troubled man. The family isn’t cursed, and none of it is your fault. It isn’t Grandma and Grandpa’s fault either. Angelo made many, many mistakes. He became the sort of person nobody could trust. That isn’t bad luck. That’s just one person.”
But Francesca gave Lorelei a look that meant she didn’t believe her.
Lorelei knew that Francesca was deeply superstitious, that she believed that spilling salt was dangerous, and that the number seventeen was unlucky, as it was the Italian version of unlucky thirteen.
Her superstitions came from her Italian childhood.
They were ingrained, set there by generations of superstitious Italians.
Believing all those things was quaint and fun, sort of, until it got in the way of living your actual life.
Until practicality was thrown out the window.
And then, when her mother didn’t say anything else, Lorelei’s eyes flickered back to her daughter, who was gazing out at the water, her expression difficult to read. Lorelei breathed, “Do you really think Aurora’s all right?”
Francesca’s eyes widened with excitement. “Aurora is better than any of us. Her spirit is pure light.”
Lorelei smiled. She still couldn’t fathom why Aurora had come all this way early without telling them a thing. But she knew Aurora liked to keep them guessing. She was slippery like that.