A Year at 32 September Way (25 page)

Surprisingly, there’d been no resistance and no third degree, merely a couple of questions about when they wished to marry and what Charles’ intentions were for a job in Verona. Charles answered the questions calmly, waiting all the while for the real questions to begin. But they never came. His soon-to-be father-in-law asserted that he wanted his daughter married in the Catholic Church and that he wished to host the reception. Within half an hour, Charles was being politely ushered out of the apartment with a promise that he and Sofia would dine with Marcello and Eva the next night for a small celebration.

Charles was dumbfounded as he walked back up the stairs to the next apartment, and it showed on his face when he walked through the door. Sofia was preparing to head out for some errands when he arrived. “I’ve just had the strangest conversation with your father,” he said, scratching his head.

“Oh no,” Sofia answered, “I hope he didn’t give you a hard time.” She knew what a curmudgeon her father could be. He liked Charles, she knew he did. Her father would never have allowed the relationship to carry on this long if he didn’t approve.

“No, that’s just it,” Charles responded. “He didn’t give me a hard time at all. He asked me a few simple questions, and he and Eva extended a dinner invitation for us tomorrow evening. That was it.”

They both stood in the living room, looking at one another incredulously. Sofia broke the silence with her laughter. “Well, he was clearly preoccupied and you, my husband-to-be, reaped the benefit of perfect timing.” The two kissed and laughed together, still reveling in the newness of their engagement.

Charles’ mind was becoming distracted by Sofia’s kisses when he remembered a special errand he needed to run that morning. While his bride-to-be had been working during the past week, he’d been shopping for the perfect ring. The dinner celebration with Marcello and Eva would be the ideal time to surprise Sofia with it. Slowly, he broke the kiss. “You must go run your errands, darling,” he said in between kisses. “I’ve got to take care of a few things, too, but later we’ll finish what we’ve started.”

“Oh, we’re going to finish what we started, all right,” Sofia responded in her sultriest voice.

“I’m a lucky man,” Charles thought as he walked down the cobblestone street while whistling a tune.
“A lucky man, indeed.”

***

Production was wrapping up for the week, and Josh sat around an outdoor table sharing wine with the other members of his team. It looked as if they’d finish the final scenes by the end of July, a full month ahead of schedule. Some of the men and women were from Italy, while others were from the United States or Canada. It had been quite an experience for all of them, and the local crew members were always interested in knowing what the foreign crew thought about living in Italy for the year. The four members from the United States and Canada all agreed that Italy was a wonderful place, but most of them were ready to return home. In fact, all of them were ready except for Josh.

Since receiving the divorce papers from Nicolette, Josh had been forced to really consider his life and where he wanted it to go from here. The last few years had revolved around Nicolette, and he didn’t regret that. But now, perhaps, it was Josh’s turn to live. Life had been like a roller coaster ride in Italy, but that had nothing to do with the country itself. The stress, sadness and heartache had all stemmed from his marriage. If anything, the little happiness he’d felt in the past ten months had come from being in Verona or Siena.

After a few conversations with some trusted friends back in California and a mentor of his on the production team, Josh decided to make a phone call to the studio’s home office to see what they had in mind for him after this film wrapped up. After relaxing and enjoying two to three months of vacation, his studio boss let him know there were a few options available to him thanks to the stellar reputation he’d built up while in Italy. “I bet you’re anxious to get back to California,” his boss said, “so I can tell you what’s coming up over here.”

“Actually, sir, some things have changed and I’m not altogether opposed to staying in Europe,” Josh responded. “I’ve grown quite fond of Italy. That’s for sure.” After talking about
it a bit longer, the two men agreed that Josh should give it some thought before making a final decision. Now, as he sat under the shade of the hickory tree and enjoyed the beautiful summer afternoon with some of his crew members, everything was starting to look crystal clear.

A distant church bell rang to signal the hour and, almost in unison, the crew rose from the table. Everyone exchanged the traditional kisses on the cheeks as they wished each other a wonderful weekend. Josh’s driver Anthony started down the gravel road toward the main highway, as the small rocks crunched beneath the tires and a slight dust trail formed behind the car. Josh flipped open his cellphone, dialed and glanced out the window to see the cornstalks, which were already knee-high. The phone rang once, twice, three times before an Italian man’s voice came on the line. “Marcello, hello,” Josh greeted his neighbor and landlord, “
it’s
Josh. Yes, I’m fine, how are you? That’s great; yes, I’m on my way home now. Hey, listen, I wonder if you might have a few minutes this weekend. I’d like to talk to you about renewing my lease for one more year.”

***

His excursion had been a success, and Charles practically danced his way back to the apartment with the small box carefully concealed in the inner pocket of his jacket. There would be no hints about his shopping trip or glimpses into the red velvet box because he wanted to surprise Sofia the next evening at dinner. But that was a day away, and there had been the promise of a romantic afternoon with his beautiful fiancée.  The Englishman had every intention of lavishing her with the attention she deserved.

Charles took a quick detour into the market at the Piazza
delle
Erbe
and stopped at his favorite flower vendor’s booth to buy Sofia a colorful mixed bouquet.  She wasn’t a
roses
kind of woman, preferring a mixture of daisies, wildflowers and lilies instead because, as she always said, “they look so happy and friendly.” He knew there was a bottle of wine, some cheese and fresh bread at home, so they’d be all set to stay in for the rest of the day.

As Charles continued his walk home, he marveled at the way his life had changed in one year. He shuddered as he remembered the man he was a year earlier, practically afraid of his own shadow. Moving to Verona had been a good decision after all. Once he was safely removed from his father’s shadow and iron fist, Charles had quickly come into his own and found the self-confidence that had been stifled his entire life. And then there was sweet Sofia; one year ago she’d been his loyal assistant and a good friend. Now, they were in love and engaged to be married. If this year was an indication of how wonderful the next years could be, Charles knew he had nothing but happiness to look forward to.

He was so lost in his thoughts that Charles didn’t even notice the two people sitting at the courtyard table until he was practically upon them. One glance toward them was enough to nearly knock him over. “Mum!” Charles exclaimed in shock.
“Father?
What are you two doing here?”

“Well, that’s not a very happy welcome,” his mother chided as Charles bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Of course I’m happy to see you, but I’m shocked. I didn’t even know you were coming,” he responded, as his voice rose in excitement.

“Your mother was insistent we come to visit you since she hasn’t heard from you in a while. Two months, to be exact. I could hardly put her off any longer,” explained the senior
Winsdorth
sternly.

Charles’ head was spinning, and all thoughts of a romantic afternoon with Sofia were replaced with weariness at having to explain all the changes in his life to his overbearing father. He’d always intended to tell them about Sofia, but it just seemed easier not to. Then, when they’d moved in together, he considered it again, but the relief at not having to deal with his father’s inquisitions and demands had been too wonderful to give up. Now here they were, all three of them, standing by the front door of Charles’ apartment building while his bride-to-be might be lying across the bed naked, awaiting his return.

“Allow me to just check on something quickly,” Charles said as he delayed his parents for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” The elder
Winsdorths
stood there in disbelief as they watched their only child bound up the front steps two at a time. About five minutes later, Charles returned and invited his parents in. Sofia was decent and calmly preparing tea. She knew about her husband-to-be’s relationship with his father and was very understanding when he breathlessly explained that his parents were in the front courtyard, unannounced, and he’d still not talked to them about his relationship with her. “I’m marrying a saint,” Charles said as he kissed Sofia on the top of her head and returned to get his parents.

“Mum and Father, do come up to my flat. There’s someone special I’d like you to meet,” Charles explained as he led his mother and father to the second floor apartment. The young man opened the door and gestured his parents in, noticing the anticipatory look on his mother’s face and the skeptical one on his father’s. “Mum, Father, this is my fiancée, Sofia.” Charles stepped away from the door as he pushed it closed and moved to his beautiful fiancée’s side. “Sofia, these are my parents, Mrs. and Mr.
Winsdorth
.”

Sofia was the first to react in what was clearly a shocking situation for the elder
Winsdorths
. “I’m so pleased to meet you both.” She welcomed them with the customary Italian kiss on both cheeks, neither noticing nor caring about how their bodies stiffened as she did so. “I’ve heard so much about you and am delighted we can finally meet. May I pour you both some tea?” She’d hurriedly prepared a small tray of Italian pastries and placed it in the middle of the cocktail table in the sitting area. A large pot of tea waited on the countertop to be poured into individual hand-painted tea cups.

Charles looked around the apartment and felt thankful Sofia was there. In a matter of minutes, she’d somehow managed to process the shock of his parents’ surprise visit, straighten the apartment and prepare tea and snacks for their guests. Although he was nervous about the details he was about to share with his parents, somehow Charles knew that as long as Sofia was part of his life, everything else would be all right. Just her being there made him feel confident and courageous about their future, even though he knew his father would object to his plans. “He’s led you through life on a short chain since you were a boy,” Charles
reminded himself. “You’ve broken the chain, and now there’s no going back…because if you go back, you’ll have to stay there forever.”

“Mum, Father, why don’t we have a seat.” Charles gestured his parents toward the couch, and then followed behind with Sofia. “It’s a bit of a shock to see you here, and I can see you’re a bit shocked, too. Let’s enjoy our tea and the lovely pastries Sofia’s put out for us, and I’ll catch you both up on my life…our lives.”

Mrs.
Winsdorth
couldn’t have been more thrilled to hear how wonderful her son’s year in Verona had been. Clearly, he’d benefited from being away from his overbearing and often emotionally abusive father, as she’d known he would. His confidence and self-assurance came through in his voice and the way he spoke about his life in Italy. She smiled to herself and felt proud of her son’s transformation; he’d quickly grown into the man she always knew he could be if only his father would allow it. Italy had been good for him, and so had his beautiful fiancée.

Charles’ mother was beside herself with excitement over Sofia, though she contained it for the sake of keeping things calm and peaceful with her husband. The young Italian woman was everything she could ever wish for her son, and it was clear she would also be an enjoyable daughter-in-law. In a moment of motherly pride, Mrs.
Winsdorth
blurted out her thoughts. “I’m proud of you, son,” she started, “and I couldn’t be happier for you and Sofia. It was the right decision for you…coming here. You’ve grown into the man I always knew you could be.”

She dabbed away the tear that had made its way down her cheek. Her son leaned over and kissed her cheek right where the tear had been moments before. “Thank you, Mum,” he whispered. “It means so much to hear those words from you and to know we have your blessings.”

The moment of happiness and closeness between mother and son was interrupted when the elder
Winsdorth
cleared his throat, a sure sign he had something to say. Until this moment, he’d sat quietly and without expression, listening to his son talk about his year in Verona, taking it all in. Mr.
Winsdorth
listened with special interest whenever Sofia chimed in. She was a lovely woman, inside and out; anyone could see that. Yet, the older man knew she would only distract his son from achieving all he could at the bank in London. He’d consented to the one-year sabbatical, but this nonsense would not go any further. As the father in the family, he’d see to it that his son got back on the right course.

“It’s clear that you’re a lovely young woman, Sofia,” he began, offering a rare smile as he looked toward his son’s fiancée. But then the smile disappeared and he redirected his attention to his son. “I’m afraid we have to discuss your future with more seriousness, Son. You’ve been fortunate to be granted this year to…to find yourself,” stammered the older man, dismissing his son’s experiences, growth and plans in one fell swoop. “Thank goodness the bank has had the patience to allow it and welcome you back anyway. I’ve spoken to them to be certain you still had your
position,
and they assured me you’ll be welcome back without any loss of standing or benefits.”