A Year at 32 September Way (9 page)

BOOK: A Year at 32 September Way
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She heaved a loud sigh and continued, “It’s time for me to move on now. Please tell me
it’s
okay. I promise I’ll never forget you.
Never.
You’ll always be right here.” She sat upright in bed and placed her hand over her heart. A gentle breeze stirred the sheer curtains, prompting Carlisle to look over toward the window on the far side of her bed. A butterfly fluttered around the open window and came to rest in the flowerbox she’d perched over the windowsill railing. Moments later, another butterfly, a smaller one, joined the first, and they sat together opening and closing their wings in unison. They remained but a moment, before fluttering above the
windowbox
and flying away.

Carlisle brought her hands to her mouth and, at once, smiled and cried. “Goodbye Will, goodbye Anna. I will always love you.”

***

Eva smiled as she slid the pan of lasagna into the oven. It was Marcello’s favorite. She’d often prepared food for herself but never really considered herself much of a cook, unlike her mother, who could turn anything into a gourmet meal. Hopefully, the lasagna would taste as good as it looked. It was a special surprise for Marcello, who would be getting out of the hospital today.

They’d had a rough start in Verona. Eva had come with such high expectations, but they’d quickly been squelched when Marcello became indisposed following his accident. She felt guilty sometimes, but she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe that he’d truly been in an accident or not. He was so hard to read sometimes, on and off like a light switch. But now they’d be together again, and it was a chance for a second start. Eva intended to grab it with gusto and had spent the entire day tidying the apartment, finding the wine, cheese and bread she knew Marcello loved, and preparing the lasagna. She’d even bought a bouquet of the pink roses he always brought her and placed them in a crystal vase at the center of the kitchen table.

She glanced toward the bookshelf at the other end of the apartment. There were so many more books there than she’d originally thought the night she started taking them all down. She’d gotten a quarter of the way through the task when she’d finally given up around one o’clock in the morning. Up until this morning, the books had remained stacked in random areas of the living room space, waiting for Eva to continue her mission of finding out what kind of door was hidden behind the bookcase. But then she’d had to put them all away; Marcello might be upset by the disturbance. After all, he’d gone to such great lengths to find the books she adored. The mystery of the hidden door would be solved another day, she decided. The time would come soon enough.

The streets below her quieted as the local shop owners and vendors went home for their afternoon siesta. There was so much to explore out there, Eva thought, but she’d waited for Marcello and had chosen to be content in her apartment until he returned. It wasn’t like her to be a quiet loner who kept all to herself, but she was living a new life now, not the life she’d led in Dusseldorf. A few weeks of quiet and solitude were small sacrifices to make for her new life in Verona with Marcello. Now that he was returning, she knew they’d embrace their new life together, and Eva looked forward to spending more and more time exploring the city she now called home. It would be just a few hours now; there was no reason why she couldn’t wait.

 

A blend of garlic, cheese, tomato sauce and meat wafted through the air, signaling to Eva that the lasagna was nearly ready. She glanced toward the clock; it was almost time for Marcello to arrive. She smiled, knowing how pleased and surprised he’d be by her efforts. As she began to prepare a tray with the cheese and bread she’d bought, Eva’s phone rang. A smile spread across her face when she realized it was Marcello, probably calling to tell her he was on his way. “At last!” she exclaimed out loud, no longer able to contain her joy.

“My darling!” she exclaimed when she answered the phone. “I’m so excited to see you again. I’m waiting, and I have everything ready for you.”

Marcello was quiet on the other end of the phone. “My sweet rose,” he said quietly, “I’m afraid there’s a problem. My daughter has surprised me with a visit and is coming to pick me up from the hospital. I can hardly tell her to bring me to you. Surely you understand. We will be together soon. I promise.”

Eva’s heart sank at the news. “Why am I even here?” she wondered as she hung up the phone. A tear began to fight its way toward the corner of her eye, but then Eva stopped herself.

“That’s quite enough of this…sitting in my apartment like a prisoner…waiting for Marcello to come and rescue me like some kind of knight in shining armor.” The anger rose within her, replacing the sadness and loneliness she’d been feeling ever since Marcello had walked out of her apartment that first morning.

“I won’t wait for him anymore,” she said out loud. “I can live here or I can live in Dusseldorf but, either way, I’m going to live. I won’t sit up here any longer like a damsel locked away in a tower.” She grabbed her purse and a sweater to ward off the slight chill that would come with sunset. Eva had missed out on life for a few weeks already, and she wouldn’t miss another moment. She had some catching up to do.

Eva walked down the stairs and headed toward the back gate, as usual, and then stopped herself. “To hell with that; I’m going out the front courtyard like any normal person would do.” She strode through the back courtyard and down the long cobblestone path leading toward the front of the building. She saw another woman, taller and with similar long, blond hair, half-walking and half-stumbling into the front courtyard.

“Oh, excuse me,” the woman slurred as she walked around Eva and continued on toward the front door. Well, at least now Eva knew there was someone else in the building. She smiled at how comical the beautiful woman looked trying to remain composed and sophisticated-looking while staggering her way up the sidewalk.

“I think I’ll have what she’s had tonight,” Eva decided, “though maybe not quite as much.”

***

Charles emerged from the bathroom looking much neater and cleaner than he had when Sofia had gently ushered him in. Although his wavy hair wasn’t as neatly trimmed as usual, he’d tamed it with a good washing and a little bit of hair gel. The beard was gone, as was the body odor that had assaulted his young guest when he’d opened the door. He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a striped button-down shirt. The look in his eyes showed that his confidence level didn’t quite match his appearance, but slow progress was better than none at all.

One look around the room was all that Charles needed to know that Sofia had taken the liberty of cleaning a bit and airing out the apartment while he was in the shower. “Was it really that bad?” he asked her.

“It wasn’t the apartment I was concerned about, Charles,” she’d replied.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. “My father’s always said….”

Sofia cut him off, preventing him from finishing a thought she’d heard him repeat several times since she’d come to work with him. “Charles, it’s clear your father’s words have hurt you, and maybe he believes they’re true. Or maybe he’s talking about himself and just putting it off on you.
But, as my own father would say, ‘You can’t let others define you; you’ve got to make your own way in this life.’
And maybe that’s one of the reasons you came to Verona: to make your own way in life. What do you say? I mean, you’re here, right?
Might as well give it a try.”

She glanced toward him, and he met her gaze. Her little speech had been half invitation and half nudge. Charles knew it was an open door that he could either choose to walk through to start a new life, or turn away from and remain in the old one. But there was no going back, that was clear now. If he returned to his old life, what was left of him would continue to decay. Sofia was right; coming to Verona was his second chance, and he needed to take it.

He glanced away for a moment and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The tapes in his head had been playing the same old sad songs for so long, it was hard to stop listening to their message that he couldn’t do it, that he wasn’t good enough or that he’d never amount to anything if he didn’t listen.  But it had to stop. It was time to break free from the chains he’d allowed his father to bind him with.

“I will do it, Sofia. Being here is my second chance. If I go back now, my life will remain as it always has been. I can’t go back to that. In fact, I can’t go back until I’ve done as your father says and made my own way.”

The young woman with the gleaming black hair and the radiant smile clapped her hands and cheered, “Bravo, Charles, bravo!”

He gave her a half-smile, feeling both wary and triumphant at the same time. A little voice inside told him to grab the bull by the horns and get started today, but Charles was still feeling unsure about
himself
. He began to open his mouth to say something, before second-guessing himself and closing it again.

“Yes, Charles?” Sofia responded. “You wanted to ask me something.” She was so confident, he thought, and had always seemed to know what was on his mind before he said it.

He cleared his throat as if doing so would help him get rid of the shyness that silenced his tongue. “Yes, of course,” he’d started. “I was thinking a celebration is in order and wondered if you might care to join me for dinner.”

Without giving it any thought, he pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. “You’ve merely asked the young woman out to dinner, chap,” he chided himself, “not climbed Mount Everest.” Still, he was feeling like he’d done the latter.

Sofia returned his offer with a sweet smile and agreed that a celebration was in order, and she’d be honored to be a part of it. There was a nice restaurant not far from the center of Verona, and she felt sure Charles would enjoy it. Thankful for a bit of guidance, he responded that he’d be delighted to try her suggestion.

“I must stop to see someone on the way to the restaurant, Charles,” Sofia explained as they prepared to leave his apartment, “but I’d like you to come with me, if you would.”

He felt as if he’d used up his quota of bravery for the night, but he couldn’t exactly back out now. Charles was finally venturing out of his apartment and had the company of his bright young former assistant to look forward to during his first real outing in Verona. He felt he’d been given a second chance at life. One small addition to the evening couldn’t hurt, and he had to stop shying away from every new situation in which his father’s voice rose up and declared “You’ll never be able to do it.” It was time to start proving his father wrong.

***

There wasn’t much for Marcello to pack before leaving the hospital, since he hadn’t expected to be there in the first place. Getting in trouble with Carlotta’s family had never put him in the hospital before. Sure, they made certain to make a point he’d remember for quite a while, but they’d never seriously hurt him. This time it had been different. He’d made a stupid, careless mistake, one Salvatore and the older brothers ensured would never be repeated.

Worse yet, he’d been shamed in front of his own wife when he saw her peering out the upstairs window as the paramedics loaded the gurney into the ambulance. Whether her family
had meant to break his ribs and bruise his kidneys was not in question; everything they did was calculated. More than two weeks later, his ego was still bruised, his ribs still hurt and Marcello still felt as if he could never hold his head high in
Bardolino
again.

Originally, his plan was to leave the hospital by taxi and spend the night with Eva before heading back to his family in Venice. Once there, he could talk with his parents and his siblings about his mistakes, his failing marriage and Carlotta’s increasingly erratic behavior. They would be upset and disappointed, and facing his parents’ disappointment would be one of the worst punishments Marcello could imagine. But he had to come clean about things, particularly the stranglehold Carlotta’s family had on him and the stress it was causing. He couldn’t tell them about Eva yet, but he would one day.

Then he’d received an unexpected but pleasant phone call, and his plans for leaving the hospital changed. Eva was very disappointed; he could hear that in her voice when he called. He’d let her down many times and was surprised she hadn’t yet called it quits with him. But he would make it up to her later, once other important details were straightened out.

Marcello stood behind the opened door of the wardrobe, placing his folded clothing into the simple cloth bag he’d purchased from the older woman who’d come through earlier pushing a cart full of items from the hospital gift shop. He was so wrapped up in the task that he didn’t hear the knock at his door.

“Papa?”
came
the sweet voice from the other side of the doorway. The familiar voice was music to his ears and had been for twenty-three years.

He peered around the wardrobe door.
“Sofia, my darling!
Your beautiful face is the best medicine a father could ever ask for.”

The young woman strode toward her father, but he stopped her short of a hug. “Gentle hugs, please, my dear. I’m afraid your Papa’s a bit banged up.”

“Oh Papa, I hate to see you hurting like that.”

Marcello had always been a hero and king to his daughter, and she’d always been the apple of his eye. He lifted his hand to caress the side of her face and caught a bit of movement by the doorway out of the corner of his eye. His daughter noticed the distraction and responded.

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