Chapter 21
That first night that Pino and Nadia were back on the island, Aurora led them to the beach long past nightfall, where they made a bonfire and sat around, talking about their parents’ marriage and what came next.
“I’d prepared myself for the worst,” Aurora said, shaking her head.
“But as it turns out, Papa’s just bad at business. Who knew?”
Pino cracked a rare smile, and Nadia laughed aloud.
“He didn’t want to admit he needed you,” Nadia said to Aurora.
At this, Pino’s eyes shifted. “I wanted to tell you. Rumors are going around Rome about you.” He explained that at Nico’s restaurant, several female staff members, from those in the kitchen to those hostessing and serving, had quit.
They were calling Nico a creep, and they were suggesting that Aurora’s spontaneous departure—after helping the restaurant out so much—was a result of Nico’s creepiness. Aurora didn’t know what to say.
Her brother and sister looked at her openly, wanting to help her through whatever this was.
“If something happened,” Pino said gently, “it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Nadia chimed in.
Aurora watched as the firelight danced in her siblings’ eyes. She could see it already: they knew that something had happened to her, that that was part of the reason she’d run away. But Aurora didn’t want to get into it, not today. She wanted to talk about joyous things.
Three days after Roberto confessed that the restaurants were bankrupt, it was announced that Roberto would be taking over as head chef at the White Oak Lodge.
A press release was sent around Nantucket and surrounding areas, and numerous travel magazines called to interview Roberto.
In no article was it mentioned that Roberto was a failed restaurateur back in Italy.
Rather, he was called the “iconic Italian chef, bringing his Roman flair to Nantucket Island.”
It didn’t matter that his businesses had failed. At his core, he was an artist, someone searching for brand-new ways to invigorate the palate.
Aurora found it beautiful to watch her father in the kitchen, experimenting with new recipes.
The day after it was announced that he was going to be head chef, she and her siblings sat in the state-of-the-art kitchen at the White Oak Lodge and watched their father work.
He made a black squid ink linguine, which he made them taste-test immediately after. It was divine.
More than that, Aurora thought it was better for her father’s creativity that he didn’t have to deal with the business side of things. She sensed a lightness about him. Already, despite his approaching business with immigration authorities and paperwork, he seemed to laugh more.
During the early part of July, Aurora sold three of her paintings to guests at the White Oak Lodge.
Originally, she’d listed the paintings as fifty dollars each, but Grandma Francesca had insisted that she change the prices, reminding her that only “elite” guests stayed at the White Oak Lodge.
“People want to feel like they’ve paid good money for something important,” Francesca explained.
“Your work is important, so price it like it is.”
For this reason, those three paintings that Aurora sold brought in more than three thousand dollars.
It was more money than she’d ever made at once.
Her only real expense, just now, was painting supplies, so she opened up an American bank account and saved her money for a rainy day.
Even better, she’d begun to work more frequently at the White Oak Lodge.
She liked feeling a part of the texture of the place.
She liked knowing all the staff members and helping her mother at the front desk.
Sometimes she passed by the stables, and her heart leaped at the idea that Oren or Kenny would come out and say hello.
But Oren and Kenny were long gone, probably back in New York City, trying to squeeze their footage for anything interesting, anything they could spin into a story.
She read cultural news often, and she searched through both Kenny’s and Oren’s social media accounts, wondering if they published anything about her family. So far, everything was quiet.
Midway through July, Nadia and Pino had to go back to Rome again.
Aurora was devastated, as were Roberto and Lorelei.
Over dinner the night before, Roberto kept suggesting various ways that Pino and Nadia could remain in the United States.
“You’re American citizens, after all,” he said, spreading his arms out wide.
“You could start over with us. You don’t have to be in Nantucket.
You could go to New York City. Or Boston. ”
But Nadia and Pino hadn’t agreed to start over, not yet. Their lives were in Rome.
Nadia wept quietly while she packed, glancing up several times at Aurora, who was busy cleaning her paintbrushes.
Since Nadia had come to Nantucket, Aurora and Nadia had had far more heart-to-hearts than they ever had back in Rome.
It was funny, Aurora thought. They were finally becoming friends.
Aurora wondered what had triggered it. Was it just that their family was finally being honest with one another?
As they fell asleep that night, Nadia confessed to Aurora that she was in love with a guy back home. He went to her university, and he was studying philosophy. “Maybe if I wasn’t so curious about him, maybe then I would stay in the United States with all of you,” she said timidly.
Aurora sat up in bed and gazed at her sister through the darkness. “You have to see it through,” she said.
“I have to,” Nadia agreed.
Aurora remembered when she’d fallen in love with Sebastian, how sure of herself she’d been in her brand-new love.
“I thought I fell for someone this summer,” Aurora confessed. “But I was wrong.”
“Why do you think you were wrong?”
Aurora considered this, remembering the way Kenny had swum and then run away from her, despite the warmth they’d shared in their kiss, despite the adrenaline in her heart.
“Grandma thinks love is always worth it,” Aurora said instead, maybe because answering Nadia felt too loaded. “But I don’t know how you can ever trust anyone to love you the way you need to be loved.”
Nadia considered this. “Have you reached out to him? Since he left, I mean.”
Although she’d never said Kenny’s name aloud to Nadia, it shouldn’t have surprised Aurora to know that everyone knew who she’d fallen for. News traveled quickly around here. Gossip was like fuel.
“No,” Aurora admitted. “I need to stay focused.” But even as she said it, her heart lurched.
“Don’t be too focused,” Nadia said. “You have to live sometimes, too.”
But after that, Nadia rolled over and finally fell asleep, leaving Aurora alone with her swirling thoughts—and her growing adoration of her little sister, who’d never been so kind.
A full week after Pino and Nadia left for Italy, Aurora was out at the stables, sweeping hay and trying to help the resident stable men and women, none of whom were very interesting to Aurora, but all of whom were incredibly kind and worthy of her help.
Maybe because it was summertime, and maybe because everyone was exhausted after two months at the White Oak Lodge, many staff workers at the Lodge had taken vacation this week, meaning that Aurora was trying to pick up the slack all over the place.
But being back in the stables was sort of haunting.
It felt like just yesterday she’d sauntered in here, making a mess of things.
Even Gwen’s wrist was already healed, without proof that it had ever happened.
Aurora was lost in thought, sweeping and dreaming up her next painting, when a shadow fell over the floorboards.
Her first thought was that it was Stephan, one of the stable men, a guy in his sixties who often made her laugh.
But when the shadow didn’t move any longer, she raised her chin and found Kenny, standing in the doorway, his black eyes piercing hers.
She nearly dropped her broom.
“Kenny,” she breathed.
Kenny pulled his fingers through his hair. “Can you take a break?”
It was nearly evening, and purple light echoed across the Nantucket Sound.
Aurora and Kenny walked slowly, side by side, until they reached a corner of the beach where none of the Lodge’s guests could see them.
Aurora studied Kenny’s face, searching for some sign of what he was thinking, what he wanted from her.
But her heart pounded so much that she struggled to focus.
Aurora told herself not to panic. “What’s going on, Kenny?” she asked. She might have told him that she’d thought about him endlessly. She couldn’t figure out why he left like that. She thought they had something special. But she knew better than to say any of that.
“He was going to do it,” Kenny said simply. “He was going to publish some of the videos of your family. I told him not to. I warned him. But he wouldn’t listen.”
Obviously, Kenny was talking about Oren. Aurora couldn’t speak.
“I did something pretty bad,” Kenny said.
He explained that he’d snuck into Oren’s apartment in New York City, that he’d scrubbed all the relevant Nantucket video files from Oren’s hard drive and also from Oren’s cloud.
“All the backups are gone,” Kenny said, rubbing his temples.
“I know, because he totally freaked out. He called me screaming, and then he talked about me all over New York, saying that I ruined his career and his life.” Kenny went pale, just thinking about it.
“Oh, Kenny.” Aurora closed her eyes, trying to fathom what it meant that Kenny had obliterated his friendship with Oren, all because of her and her family. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I couldn’t let him,” Kenny said. “Art doesn’t always have to be moral. It can take chances. But it shouldn’t take advantage of people. It shouldn’t destroy people’s lives. Art is never that essential.”
Aurora sat on the sand and wrapped her arms around her knees. The sand was warm and nourishing, and the water was gentle as it lapped along the beach. Kenny sat beside her. The air between their shoulders seemed to burn.
“I’ve thought about you a lot,” Aurora breathed. She could scarcely believe she’d said it. “I don’t know why, but I fell for you right away. I hardly know you.”
Kenny was quiet for a moment. “I felt it, too. I knew there was something between us. But Oren told me from the beginning that he was going to date you. I told myself not to try anything. I had enough other things to think about.” He hesitated, then added, “My mom died last year. At Christmas. I’ve been reeling, to say the least.”
Aurora turned to look at him, shocked. It was strange what people carried with them. It was strange how little you could see from the outside. “Kenny, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Kenny shook his head. “I’m sorry I let everything get out of hand with Oren.”
Despite the silence, despite the fact that they seemed not to know what to say or do, he kept his eyes tuned into hers. Aurora’s heart swelled into her throat.
“Are you going to stay in Nantucket for long?” she asked.
“I don’t have anything else going on,” Kenny said.
Aurora laughed, throwing her head back. It was brilliant to laugh despite how devastating life could be. Her grandmother was right: life was beautiful, too. You had to know how to look at it. Like any good painter, you had to trust your own perspective.
“What if we get something to eat?” Aurora suggested. After all, she was Italian. everything had to begin and end in the kitchen, over a glass of red wine.
“You know what? I was just thinking about how hungry I am,” Kenny said with a smile.