A Year at 32 September Way (27 page)

Two steaming cups of cappuccino arrived at the table, and Josh took his first sip. There was nothing quite like the first sip of cappuccino in the morning, but the experience took on a whole new meaning when you could enjoy it at a small café on a piazza in Italy. Josh was not one to take this experience for granted, and he reveled in it each Sunday morning. “You’re very astute, my friend,” he said. “I do feel as if the weight of the world is off my shoulders. I had some heavy-duty decisions to make, and I made them.”

Weeks earlier when the divorce papers had arrived, Josh had told Carlisle about the decision to grant Nicolette her quick divorce rather than drawing out the pain. It was clear his wife no longer wanted to be married to him, and he’d struggled long enough. “Better to give her what she wants and see if I can find some happiness of my own,” he’d explained.

But at the time, he had no idea if he was going to return to California at the end of filming or if he might go somewhere else instead. The studio had provided him many options and, with the dissolution of his marriage, Josh found he was open to going just about anywhere. When he and Carlisle met for Sunday morning cappuccino a few weeks earlier, Josh was still unsure about where he’d be living when his lease in Verona ended.

“I signed a new lease with Marcello a couple weeks ago. Deciding what to do next was a huge burden, but I feel so much better now that the decision’s been made,” he explained to his friend. “The studio had options for me back in the States, but I’ve had some truly happy
moments here in Verona and Siena, and I want to see where they’ll take me. I’ve signed on to work on a movie that will be filmed partly on Monte
Baldo
and Venice in Italy, as well as parts of Croatia.”

Carlisle listened excitedly as Josh told her about the upcoming film. Both of them were adventurers at heart, and she enjoyed hearing about the different places he’d get to see while working on the next production. For the remainder of their coffee time, they talked about Josh’s plans and hopes for the upcoming year.

They decided on a brief window-shopping tour through the immediate area before returning home before the temperature peaked. As they strolled down the shaded cobblestone streets, Josh shifted the focus of the conversation from his plans to Carlisle’s. “And what about you?” he asked. “What are your plans for the beginning of September?”

Carlisle let out a big sigh; weeks of pondering that very question had still not resulted in a final decision. It was frustrating, but mostly it was scary. “Josh, I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do.” The frustration of not having come to a decision only added to the burden at this point, and speaking the words out loud to her friend magnified
the need
to get her act together and decide what she was going to do with her life. She began to explain to Josh the advantages of going back to Seattle—familiar territory, the ability to participate in marketing her book and the chance to learn to live there without hiding behind the shadows of the past. Or there was the option of remaining in Verona—a place that had helped her come to terms with her past, had encouraged her to enjoy living in the present and offered so many opportunities for her work and personal life.

Josh listened to her carefully and without judgment. He knew how hard it was to let go of one life to embrace a new one. It was clear Carlisle was struggling with the guilt of putting herself first for a change. How well he knew those feelings and the ways they tried to taint the clear-thinking mind. “Can I make an observation, Carlisle?” he asked. “As one person who’s had to do some major letting go recently.”

“Of course; I’d value your observations.” Carlisle was anxious to hear what her friend had to say.

“I’m not going to mince words or sugarcoat anything,” Josh began, “because this is your future we’re talking about, right?”

Carlisle nodded her head in agreement as they continued to walk down the narrow street.

“The description of your two options makes it clear that remaining in Verona is the choice that gives you more hope and happiness. You described returning to Seattle as something that would allow you to tend to obligations and continue wrestling with the past. But I don’t hear you talking about Seattle as the place that allows you enjoy the moment or look forward to the future.” He stopped walking and talking for a moment, pausing to consider his words.
“Why
wouldn’t
you choose to stay where you have friends who care about you, a life that’s under construction but happy nonetheless, and a future that’s full of possibilities?
What’s holding you back?”

Carlisle had to admit it was a good question, one she’d asked herself almost every day. Yet, every single day she’d been unable to come up with an answer. Deep down inside, she knew what she wanted; Verona was calling her name, and she wanted to answer its call.

As if reading her mind, Josh interjected his thoughts as only a good friend could. “It’s clear that your heart wants to stay here. Maybe you just need to give yourself permission. Maybe the time has come to do what’s right for you. Not your publisher or agent, and not the ghosts of the past.” Josh reached out and held onto Carlisle’s shoulders so he could look into her eyes and emphasize his point. “In my opinion, the problem is that if you stay in Verona you might end up being really happy and, it’s been so long since you’ve felt that way, the prospect of being happy scares you to death.”

***

After taking time to discuss the opportunity to work in the family business, Charles and Sofia had both decided it was a good opportunity that would help them build a future in Italy. Charles’ father had once again been rendered speechless at the news before launching into every reason he could conjure up why his son shouldn’t dare to leave the bank. There were some risks involved, Charles agreed, but he felt confident in taking them as well as in the rewards they would bring. He and Sofia would have more time together; they’d have an opportunity to be part of a well-established business and build something special and secure for their future.

Finally, the day arrived to drive out to
Bardolino
to tour the vineyard, meet Marcello’s brother-in-law Louis and the other employees who were still there. Sofia had grown up around the vineyards and the wine business so, even though she hadn’t initially joined the company, she felt as familiar and comfortable there as she would with an old friend. For Charles, it was all new, and he marveled, pondered and questioned everything in an effort to take it all in.

“Give
yourself
time, my love,” suggested Sofia. “Let the wine business grow on you and into your veins. You will learn as you go along, and no one here expects you to do otherwise. Don’t pressure yourself. Take it slow, and your passion for the business will develop as you learn.”

Charles bent down to kiss his bride-to-be; she always had a way of allaying his fears without ever making him feel like he was less of a man for having them. The two held hands as they walked through the vineyard, flanked by grapevines as tall as Charles that were growing heavy with their ripening fruit. Harvest time was a month and a half away; it was the perfect time for them to come onboard in preparation for a bountiful harvest season.

Eva was to meet Sofia and Charles later in the office, as she had already toured the vineyard. Marcello and Louis made preparations for the three of them to meet everyone in their department and slowly become acquainted with the business. Wherever they went on the vineyard grounds or in the office, they were welcomed with open arms. Without anyone saying so, it was clear that the new ownership was welcome. To open their afternoon meeting, Marcello sat at the head of the table with Sofia, Charles, Eva, Louis and a few other people.
They each lifted a glass of the fine rosé made at their own vineyard and toasted to the future of Via del Sol. A veil of deceit had been lifted and, although Marcello was firm, he was also fair. From the workers who tended the grapevines to the managers in the office, everyone looked forward to being part of the new Via del Sol free of the iron fist that had ruled it for many years.

***

The day had been long but productive, and the workers had all gone home to their families. Marcello and Louis were the only ones on the vineyard premises, as they wanted to spend a few more minutes looking over recent records. Eva, Sofia and Charles had left a couple hours earlier, their heads overflowing with information about the wine business. Marcello knew they were a bit overwhelmed, but he was confident their contributions to Via del Sol would be tremendous.

The men rose from the table and shook hands to finish off their first day of running the business together. “You’ve always stood apart from the rest of your family,” Marcello noted, “always marching to the beat of your own drum. I’ve admired that about you and have felt we were cut from the same cloth. I’m glad to have you here with me, Louis.”

Louis reached out to shake Marcello’s hand again. “The way my family treated you was wrong. I should have stood up to my father and older brothers, but I feared the same wrath if I did.”

“No, no,” interrupted Marcello, “don’t apologize. And don’t feel guilty, either. You came into the business as a kid, and you’re still a young adult, barely older than my Sofia. In a way you’re like a younger brother to me. It was never your duty to stand up for me or anyone else, and you did the right thing by protecting yourself. Your character spoke volumes, and I am confident that will continue.”

The two men went outside together and reflected on the day and all the changes Via del Sol had faced. A new harvest season was almost upon them and, at the same time, the business was also entering a new season. It was a season of change that Marcello felt certain was going to lead to hope and bounty for many years to come.

“Can I give you a ride home?” asked Louis as they went down the low ramp that had been installed to give Marcello access to and from the office building.

“Thank you, but no,” Marcello responded. “Eva is on her way right now.”

With that, the two men parted ways as Louis drove down the hilly, gravel road through the vineyard and toward the main road. Just as he turned the corner and the dust began to settle, another car entered the long drive. It was Eva, arriving to pick up Marcello. He was anxious to see her and had wanted to speak with her the entire day. But there’d been so many people coming and going in his office that he’d never been alone with her, and it had been nearly impossible for Marcello to wait the entire day to share his secret with Eva.

Now, several hours later, he’d get his chance. Eva adjusted the seat on the driver’s side to accommodate her boyfriend’s larger frame, and then situated his wheelchair so he could get in. Once he was settled, she deftly folded the wheelchair and lifted it into the trunk for the ride home. She’d barely had a chance to buckle her seatbelt when Marcello burst forth with his news.

“Something happened early this morning, about an hour after I arrived to work,” he started, almost breathless with excitement. “I wanted to tell you right away, but there was never a chance. There was always someone coming into my office with a question or a bit of news or whatever. After a while, I just wanted to tell them all to go away.” Marcello laughed as he remembered his anxiety and frustration.

“You had a secret this big and kept it from me all day?” Eva asked incredulously, half-teasing him because he was not known for his patience.

“Incredible, I know,” he laughed. “But this is serious, Eva. I’m almost afraid to tell you, because if I tell you and it turns out to be nothing, I know we’ll both be disappointed.

“Well, now you have to tell me, sweetheart,” Eva insisted, “whatever it is and however it turns out.”

“I was sitting at my desk this morning,” Marcello began, “just doing my work as normal, when I felt a tingling on the backs of my calves.”

“You felt something!” Eva practically screamed.

“Now don’t get excited, darling,” he cautioned her. “It may be nothing at all.” And then he broke into the smile he’d been containing all day. “But it could be something; it’s the first feeling I’ve had in my legs since the shooting.”

Eva threw her arms around Marcello’s neck as they both shed happy, hopeful tears. As hard as he tried to rein in his emotions, it wasn’t possible now. They had both settled into this new life with his wheelchair and were determined to make the best of it by focusing on abilities instead of disabilities. It was a wise decision, one that had empowered Marcello to progress much further than anyone thought he would. And now, suddenly, there was new hope. As he held Eva tightly in his arms, Marcello made a silent wish that the tingling in his legs was a sign; a sign that he’d have the chance to walk again.

***

Eva, Carlisle and Sofia gathered around in the center of the living room-sized dressing area. Sofia stood apart from the other two women, directing them to turn this way and then that. The three of them laughed and talked over each other, making it nearly impossible to understand anything they said. But it was clear they were excited about something momentous.

“I really like them,” began Sofia as she looked at the dresses. “How do you feel in them?”

“The color is gorgeous,” observed Carlisle, “Eva’s hair and skin look beautiful with the peach color, and it works with my dark hair, too.”

“I agree,” chimed in Eva, “peach is a lovely color, the fit is perfect and the dress style is flattering for us both.”