Chapter 3
Lorenzo – The Lodge
THE MARINO FAMILY LODGE IS A WELCOME ESCAPE, STANDING TWO STOREYS high, the massive structure belonged to my father.
“A family cabin.” That’s what he had called it.
Although warm and cozy, this is far from a cabin.
I get out of the car while holding a still sleeping Angelo, the poor boy is exhausted from the day’s somber events.
Tony drove us up here while I sat with Angelo in the back, strapped into his car seat snug and safe.
The two-and-a-half-hour drive from Vernon Hills to Charles Mound served Angelo well.
He should be well rested and at full power when he wakes.
Looking at it now, I regret not spending more time here.
It is impressive. The front is mostly stone, perfectly carved to suit the design and wood to give it that cabin vibe.
It has a wrap-around porch on the first level and a long balcony on the second level directly above the porch.
There is a swing that mum uses to relax in with a good book, a small table, a rocking chair and a few extra wooden chairs.
Walking toward the cabin I make my way up the stone path flanked by what will be beautiful plants in bloom in the summer.
They’re looking a bit sad and wilted now due to the cold.
I make my way up the wooden stairs onto the porch and in front of the large wooden double doors.
The lodge is unlocked as there are still some staff here.
Opening the door with Angelo still nuzzled in my neck, I make my way inside.
There is a fire going in the massive fireplace, the entire living area bathed in warmth, a stark contrast to the bone chilling cold outside.
The inside is decorated in a rustic meets modern style; huge brown leather sofas grace the center of the living area with a massive fluffy white shaggy rug in the middle.
A coffee table made from a sanded tree stump found on the property with a thick glass sheet on top as the table.
To the left of the fireplace is a massive wall of windows, providing the breathtaking views of the white snow-covered landscape.
I make my way through the dining area, turning right into the hallway and going into the first bedroom on the left.
It’s a good-sized room, one of two on this level.
It has a crib and a queen-sized bed as well as a bathroom.
I tuck Angelo into the crib and place the baby monitor on the dresser.
Then I go into the bathroom and wash my hands before coming back into the bedroom to change.
Dressed in black sweatpants and a dark grey t-shirt, I feel more comfortable and less restricted than I was in my suit.
I take a quick peak at Angelo before going back into the living area and placing the twin monitor on the table.
Taking a seat in the large recliner, I bend over, elbows on my knees, hands interlocked and my head resting on my fingers, I let out a deep breath.
As much as I wanted peace and quiet, I realize that solitude will only give me more time to think, reflect and reminisce. Feeling an impending migraine coming on, I disentangle my fingers and start to rub at my temples in firm circular motions, hoping to soothe the dull throb.
“Can I get you something to eat Mr. Marino?” I look up to see Hazel the housekeeper for the lodge.
Shaking my head I tell her, “No thank you Hazel, I’m fine.” She nods her head but doesn’t leave.
“Is there anything else I can get you? A cup of coffee perhaps?”
“Yes, perhaps I could use a coffee.”
“Right away, Sir.” She nods and scurries away.
“You really should eat something Enzo. I don’t think you’ve had anything since yesterday morning and coffee is hardly going to sustain you for very long.” I look up to see Tony giving me that look, the one that says, “You know I’m right.” I know he is, but I hardly have an appetite.
“I know, I know. I’ll get something later. For now, I just want to sit here and rest my eyes for a bit.”
Liana walks in just as I say it.
“Now caro, (dear) you just rest and don’t you worry about Angelo, I’ll take care of him when he wakes. You need to get some food in you and rest.”
“Thank you, Liana, I’ll do that.” Just then Hazel brings my coffee to me and I nod my gratitude. Taking the mug from her, I wrap my fingers around it, letting the heat seep into my hands. Both women leave, scurrying off to continue with their work.
“How long are you going to stay here?”
“I haven’t decided. I just need some time away from everything, and everyone.”
“Do you want me to stay here, with you? I can keep you company; I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”
“I’ll be fine, I just…” I take a deep breath in and run my hands through my hair. “I just need some time that’s all.”
“Okay, then. Do you mind if I crash here with you for a few days? I’m beat, it’s late and it’s a long drive back home. I have an overnight bag with me.”
“Yeah of course. You don’t have to ask my permission. This is our house not just mine.”
“Thanks Enzo. I know I don’t need your permission. I just don’t want to invade your privacy. I know this is a difficult time for you and I know how private you are, that’s all.”
“I appreciate the thought. You know Tony, I’m surprised mama didn’t follow us he-”
“Enzo! Tony!” Oh, dear God. This day just got even longer. “See mia amore (my love) what you’ve left me to endure?”
“Si, mama. We’re here.” I hear the clicking of heels before-
“Lorenzo, mio caro bambino.” (My darling child.) “You left so suddenly and without even telling me where you were going. I had to find out from Liana when you didn’t show up at the house. Now don’t you worry, mama is here and I’m going to take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of mama, I’m not a child!”
I let out a bit more assertively than I intended.
I’m tired, angry, frustrated and my fucking heart is lying in pieces in the cold wet ground of that damn cemetery.
I came here for quiet. Why can’t everyone just leave me alone.
I know my mother means well and God, I love her for it but I just want time to myself.
I look up at my mother; I’ve upset her and my soul plummets a little more. I run my fingers through my hair.
“I’m sorry mama, I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s just that I…”
“It’s just that you need space mio figlio, si?” (My child) She finishes for me.
“Si.” I respond. I start to tremble, hands shaking, still holding the coffee mug as the dark liquid breaches it’s barrier and spills over.
My mother rushes to my side taking the mug from me and swiftly hands it over to Tony.
Before I even have time to acknowledge what is happening, I’m wrapped in a tight warm embrace.
My mother holds me tightly and I break. Losing the battle, I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head and I sob.
“I don’t know what to do now mama. What do I do now? She’s gone; she left us.” All the things that have been plaguing my mind, come rushing out in waves now.
“He lost his mother while I still have mine. He doesn’t understand, what do I say to him?
How do we move on without her mama? Tell me please?
I have no idea what to do anymore. No idea how to raise a child on my own, what to do if he gets sick.
What if he has a fever? What if he gets hurt and I’m not there? I don’t know what to do!”
I shout it all out. Holding nothing back.
All of the things that have been plaguing my mind are coming out now in waves.
I’ve always maintained a calm control, always found a solution to problems without making a fuss.
I always had a plan B and if that didn’t work then a plan C. But now? Now I have nothing.
“I’m so lost without her mama. I love her so much. She was my everything. Tell me mama, tell me how do I live without her?”
“Time. Time, caro.” Time, my child. In time you will learn how to move on.
You will not forget, the pain will never leave you.
It will always be there, taunting you with what you once had, until, one day, when you wake up, you’ll find that the searing pain is no longer quite so prominent, the ache in your chest is not as bad as it once was.
It never goes away, mio figlio, (my child) no, it just gets easier to live with.
As for Angelo, you don’t have to do any of this alone.
We are all here to help. Liana did such a great job with you and I know she will do the same for Angelo. I will help you; Tony is here too.”
“Si.” Tony affirms in his deep Italian voice. “Anything you need Enzo, we’re here. Just say the word.”
“You see, we are all here. We are familia and we stick together. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“What do I do now mama?”
“Now, now you grieve, you mourn, you cry. And then, you start to live. Victoria would want you to do that… live.”
“For now, have you eaten anything?”
I sheepishly shake my head as my mother gives me a disapproving look.
“Okay, sit for a while, I’ll be right back.” A few moments later she’s back with a tray consisting of a bowl of stew and some garlic bread on the side as well as a glass of juice. The aroma of the stew is intoxicating and my stomach growls in response. My mother looks at me and frowns.
“You must understand dear; you cannot pour from an empty cup. If you want to be the best father you can be to Angelo, then you need to take care of yourself first.”
“Si, mama, Grazie.” (Yes mama, thank you) I say taking the bowl from her, taking a spoonful and blowing lightly, I inhale the rich fragrant aroma coming off the bowl in thick steamy plumes.
It’s heavenly. The first mouthful leaves an explosion of flavour on my tongue.
After I’ve finished, I am feeling a little better.
I decide to go to my room, shower, change and get some much-needed sleep.
I still have the dull ache behind my eyes but I’ll take something for it after a shower.
I stand up to leave the living area then- “Grazie mama, (thank you mama) I think I’m just going to shower and get some rest if that’s okay with you. ”
“Of course, sweetheart, I’ll be here if Angelo wakes up so don’t you worry about a thing. You just take care of yourself.”
As much as I wanted to be alone, I must admit that I’m glad my mother followed us here.
I am equally glad that Tony is here as well.
Perhaps I’m not so alone after all. I take my leave then and head back down the hall, to my bedroom.
Angelo is still asleep so I make my way quietly to the bathroom and close the door.
The spray of the water feels soothing on my tight muscles. Standing under the water with one hand up against the wall, palm pressed to the cool tile, the other hand on my chest trying to contain the ache within. The water drips down my face and I close my eyes.
I see her, laughing while we both chop up vegetables for dinner.
She’s laughing at my culinary skills. A blink of an eye and we’re together in the park; I’m lying down on a blanket facing up looking at the sky while she sits on the blanket with baby Angelo bouncing on her knee.
Another blink and we’re in the kitchen again, only this time I’ve burned the popcorn and ruined movie night but she just laughs it off and gives me a sweet kiss.
She never got angry. She was always so calm, so soft spoken, so sweet.
She was perfect. Another blink and it’s bright, memories going through my mind, like visions on a story board.
She’s wearing a lace dress, long and flowy.
It hugs her perfect curves like a second skin, tiny pearl buttons running along the back of the dress.
Those damn pearl buttons proved increasingly annoying later that night.
Our wedding day, our wedding night, warm bodies fused together, lips and limbs entwined together.
My hands running through her thick black hair, so soft.
I can still smell the apple and coconut shampoo she used and her intoxicating vanilla scent.
I blink my eyes open with a startle as I hear a cry. Angelo!
I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around me, securing it at the waist, I rush out of the bathroom. When I enter the bedroom Angelo is already quiet and happily snuggling into my mother’s embrace. She turns to look at me and frowns.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, I, I - uh just heard Angelo cry and I thought he may have gotten hurt.”
“I heard him fussing on the monitor and came to check on him. He’s ok dear. Go finish your shower, I’ll get this little one fed and then he can have a nice warm bath.”
“Grazie, mama.” (Thank you mama) She smiles at me and leaves the room with Angelo.
I step back into the shower to rinse of the suds still clinging to me but then I see her again.
The steam swirls around me, thick and suffocating, but it wasn’t the heat stealing my breath – it was the sudden, unbearable weight of her absence.
Now, with nothing but the sound of rushing water and my own ragged breathing, her face breaks through again.
A tremble starts in my chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.
I am not a man who cries and yet, here I am.
Grief doesn’t care. My knees buckle and I slide down along the slick tile, water pouring over me as I sink further into the abyss of my pain.
My shoulders tremble first, then the sound came, raw, broken, torn from somewhere deep inside me.
A sound I barely recognise as my own. Covering my face with both hands in an attempt to stifle it, but the sobs wouldn’t stop.
My grief pours out of me ugly, unrelenting and so unlike me.
For the first time since I was a boy, I let myself cry – not just for her, but for the life we lost, for the future that died with her and for the man I used to be when she was here to love me.