Chapter 2
AYLA
“Well, Miss Russo, how was your dinner?”
Isla Russo beams at me, sitting at the table with her parents and grandmother. They’re regulars here at Uncle Ernie’s Café and Bar.
“It was delicious,” she states. “And I ate it all. That means I can have dessert.”
I quickly glance at Laura, Isla’s mom, who gives a tiny nod of assent.
“Tartufo?” I ask.
“Yes, please!”
“Coming right up, Miss Russo. Dessert for anyone else?”
I don’t always wait on tables—my role here is more of a manager since Grandpa’s been slowing down—but I like to talk to customers, especially regulars, and five-year-old Isla is so sweet. I relay their order to the kitchen and to Atlas, who’s looking after their table.
“Oh, hey, Ayla,” Atlas says with an entreating expression. “D’you think I could leave a bit early tonight? It’s my little sister’s birthday.”
I keep my face neutral but inside, I’m sighing. Again? He had to leave early last week.
“We’re having a family party and I’m already missing most of it,” he adds. “I really want to be there to give her my gift.”
I know his sister is turning sixteen. I know he has another sister who’s eighteen and he’s twenty-one and in college, working here part-time. He’s a good waiter, so I’ve kind of been easy on him.
“This is the third time you’ve had to leave early in the last three weeks,” I say gently. “If the evening shifts are a problem for you, we can schedule you earlier.”
He blinks and frowns. “No, it’s not a problem. And I have classes during the day.”
“Right.” I hold his gaze for a moment, then say, “Okay, I’ll cover for you tonight.”
“Thanks, Ayla, you’re the best!”
He hurries off to look after another table. I turn and face my cousin Ashley, who’s tending bar tonight, a job I used to do. She shakes her head at me.
“What?”
“You’re letting him off early again?”
Now the sigh escapes me in a puff of air. “Yes.”
“He knows if he tells you it’s because of family, you’ll cave.”
I frown. “You don’t believe him?”
She shrugs. “It could be his sister’s birthday party. But I know last week, he did not have to pick up his other sister from her cheer practice. I heard him telling Zoe he had a hot date.”
I push my lips out. “Shit. Really?”
She nods, eyebrows lifted.
“You should have told me.”
“I just did.”
“I mean before tonight.” I shoot her a reproving look.
“Sorry. I didn’t think it was a huge deal but… now he’s leaving early again, so yeah… I should have.”
Ashley’s right. I’m a sucker for family. And I like to treat staff here well. Grandpa has always treated the people who work for him like family and tried to accommodate them when he could, which resulted in loyal, long-term employees. But I can’t be a pushover.
Next time, I won’t be so soft.
“How’s Nonna doing?” Ashley asks as she wipes a beer glass.
I pick up a towel to help her. “I’m not sure. Last time I talked to her, she said she hadn’t been feeling well.”
Nonna is actually our great-grandmother, our bisnonna, but we call her Nonna.
“Oh no. I can’t believe she’s turning ninety-nine.”
“I know.” I smile. “I can’t wait until her party.
” We’re planning a big birthday party for her.
Well… I’m planning the party. It’s taking up all my time right now and I’m determined to throw the best party ever for Nonna and for my whole family, really.
My family is huge and spread far and wide so this is also going to be a big reunion. “She’s really looking forward to it.”
“I can’t wait, too. She’s amazing.”
“She is.” I love my bisnonna so much. She and I have a special connection, more so than anyone else in the family has with her, I think. My cousin Rachel, who’s the same age as me and is also my best friend, says I’m Nonna’s favorite.
Not that I try to be her favorite. I just love her.
I spent a lot of time helping her when she still lived here in Hoboken, taking her out to movies and concerts and shopping.
Then after her heart attack, I quit college and moved in with her to care for her.
But now she’s moved in with Aunt Melissa and Uncle Vince, who live farther away, and I don’t see her as much.
It’s not busy tonight so it’s not hard to cover the rest of Atlas’s shift when he ducks out.
I check on the Russo family as they finish up their dessert. “Was it delicious, Miss Russo?” I ask Isla.
“Yes. I love ice cream.”
“What’s your favorite animal?”
She doesn’t hesitate at the question. “Pandas!”
I widen my eyes. “Really? Look what I have here.” I pull a little squishy black and white toy from my pocket.
“Oh!”
“Here. You can have this.”
She takes it from me with a huge smile and before her mom can open her mouth for the reminder, says, “Thank you, Ayla!”
“You’re welcome.” I meet Laura’s eyes and we exchange a look of amusement. “See you all next time.”
I check the kitchen to see if they need help, but they’ve got things under control so I return to the bar and fill a glass with Pepsi for myself.
I look around the restaurant, which is like home.
My grandfather has owned this place my whole life, so I grew up here, worked here as a teenager, then later as an adult after I left college.
I love this place. I love the memories and the family history. This is where I met Carson. My ex-husband. Ugh.
But this isn’t how I pictured myself at twenty-eight years of age. Is this what my life is going to be? Forever? Is this all I’m good for?
A heaviness slides through me and settles in my stomach. Not for the first time, I feel like a failure.
I dropped out of college to look after Nonna.
A few years later, my life was looking up when I met Carson.
We fell in love. That memory brings a sharp pang of regret, thinking of how happy we were and how that’s lost now.
We got married and bought a big, beautiful house.
We talked about having a family. Then I got pregnant and all my dreams were coming true.
Until the car accident that changed everything. I lost my son. I lost myself. And maybe that was when I lost my husband, even though our marriage didn’t end until eleven months later.
I was a failure at being a mother, at being a wife, and I couldn’t even finish college to become the teacher I’d wanted to be. Now here I am working in the family business, living alone, my future stretching interminably and monotonously in front of me.
If it weren’t for my family, I’d have nothing. Family’s always been important to me, but now even more so. Like I always say, a family tree will wither if nobody tends its roots. I learned that from Nonna.
When we’ve closed the restaurant, I drive home to my house in Maplewood, which gives me a good thirty-five minutes to think more about my family and my future.
I didn’t used to mind where we lived, but now a forty-ish minute commute is a pain in the ass.
When Carson lived with me, the distance to the arena and practice facility (he’s a pro hockey player) was about half an hour drive for him, but he never minded.
I don’t like this long drive along the expressway in the dark all alone.
I was nervous driving for months after the accident and sometimes, I still get anxious.
I have to do it, though. Life goes on.
I pass by Newark airport, a plane above me descending to land there. I wish I was going somewhere. I could exit the expressway and drive to the airport and buy a ticket to Canada.
But I don’t.
I’m grateful for my job at Uncle Ernie’s, grateful to Grandpa for offering it to me, grateful to all my family.
Although… there’s a tiiiiny bit of pique deep inside me that nobody ever seems to recognize how much I do for the family.
Helping Nonna. Taking care of her when she was sick.
I’m the one doing all the work to plan the big birthday party.
And now even though Grandpa offered me this job to help me, he benefits because he’s able to take things easier now that I’m here.
I exhale a long breath. That doesn’t matter. I love looking after my family.
Which makes our—I mean, my—big, five-bedroom house, the beautiful house I fell in love with when I was married, seem even emptier when I unlock the back door and let myself in.
“Congrats, team,” I say out loud to my imaginary teammates, locking the door behind me. “We made it through another day.”
I walk through the house and climb the stairs to the second floor.
As always, I stop at the door of the room that was Kane’s, even though he barely slept there.
I sweep the shadowy room with my gaze. I haven’t changed anything here.
There’s still a crib, a changing table, a dresser, a big, comfy chair where I often sat to nurse him in the night.
In those days, being in a dark, quiet house with my baby seemed peaceful and beautiful. Not lonely and joyless.