morning,” Uncle Enzo said. He thanked Lita for the coffee, which she set in front of him. She glanced at Lorenzo, her cheeks like cherry blossoms.
Lorenzo turned to Uncle Enzo. “We’re supposed to go over business today, remember? Unless you’ve changed your mind, I thought I’d leave next week.”
“Very well.” Uncle Enzo rose and he and Lorenzo excused themselves. Lita offered to make them some breakfast and took out pans and eggs as they walked into the hall.
“You think that’s a good idea, Lita staying here?” Lorenzo asked. They sat in Uncle Enzo’s study, his uncle behind the wide old walnut desk while Lorenzo sat in the leather chair facing it.
“Why not?”
“Her family doesn’t like it.”
“We’re her family too.”
“I think I’ll be in Italy for a while.”
“Why? My business won’t take very long.”
“I know.”
“If you stay away too long…didn’t you hear what Carlo said about Lita and Joe?” Uncle Enzo tapped on his desk with a pen.
“I heard,” Lorenzo said. His jaw clenched. “Maybe he’s right,” he whispered.
“I’d like it,” Uncle Enzo said as he took out his files.
Once they were done, he and Lorenzo walked into the foyer.
“I should go,” Lorenzo said.
“Lita’s made breakfast.”
Lorenzo shrugged and followed him into the kitchen. Lorenzo inhaled the smell of the peppers and onions, mixed with eggs, some garlic toast on the side--his uncle’s favorite. Uncle Enzo thanked Lita and they sat together. Lita picked at her fruit salad, Lorenzo and Uncle Enzo ate without a word.
“You’re going to Italy?” Lita asked Lorenzo as she rose to clear the table.
Lorenzo stood and helped her. He breathed deeply, but only the citrusy scent of the dish soap and the lingering aroma of breakfast surrounded him.
“I leave in three days. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His temples tightened.
“I thought you were just going to deliver your father’s ashes?” she said as Lorenzo dried the dishes she washed. Her voice wavered. Better a small hurt now than what he might cause if he stayed. He felt like a robot, his movements mechanical and stiff.
“No, I have other business. No reason to be here, either.” He twisted the towel in his hand. He was a low, lying—all the more reason to stay away.
“Oh,” she said as they finished. She dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ve got to get my purse. If I don’t see you, have a good trip.”
Lorenzo watched Lita walk out.
“Call me if you think of anything else,” he said to his uncle. Again he let his longing for Lita shimmer briefly before his eyes dulled. Uncle Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“Won’t you be here for Sunday dinner? Everyone will want to see you before you go.”
“I don’t think so.” Lorenzo waved and walked out.
6
Lita waited, her hand on the downstairs bathroom’s glass doorknob. The front door banged shut. She took a few shaky breaths. Then she exhaled slowly and went into the kitchen. No reason to stay, Lorenzo’d said. She’d hoped their kiss, the promise of more, was enough. She focused her vision on Uncle Enzo, who stood and smiled back at her.
“Shall we?” Uncle Enzo asked.
Lita nodded. They went out arm in arm to visit Celeste D’Angelo. Maybe Lita could help Uncle Enzo, since she couldn’t seem to do anything for herself.
Celeste wasn’t in the market, but her daughter-in-law Eva showed them upstairs, where Celeste sat in the living room, sewing on a shirt button. She greeted them politely and when she blushed for a second, Uncle Enzo stood taller and smiled his most charming expression. Lita knew then her hunch was right--Uncle Enzo liked Celeste as more than a friend. The three sat and talked about the wonderful discovery, the neighborhood news, and their families. Lita was interested to find out that the DeGrazias and D’Angelos had known each other back in Italy and that Celeste and her husband as well as Uncle Enzo
Lorenzo turned to Uncle Enzo. “We’re supposed to go over business today, remember? Unless you’ve changed your mind, I thought I’d leave next week.”
“Very well.” Uncle Enzo rose and he and Lorenzo excused themselves. Lita offered to make them some breakfast and took out pans and eggs as they walked into the hall.
“You think that’s a good idea, Lita staying here?” Lorenzo asked. They sat in Uncle Enzo’s study, his uncle behind the wide old walnut desk while Lorenzo sat in the leather chair facing it.
“Why not?”
“Her family doesn’t like it.”
“We’re her family too.”
“I think I’ll be in Italy for a while.”
“Why? My business won’t take very long.”
“I know.”
“If you stay away too long…didn’t you hear what Carlo said about Lita and Joe?” Uncle Enzo tapped on his desk with a pen.
“I heard,” Lorenzo said. His jaw clenched. “Maybe he’s right,” he whispered.
“I’d like it,” Uncle Enzo said as he took out his files.
Once they were done, he and Lorenzo walked into the foyer.
“I should go,” Lorenzo said.
“Lita’s made breakfast.”
Lorenzo shrugged and followed him into the kitchen. Lorenzo inhaled the smell of the peppers and onions, mixed with eggs, some garlic toast on the side--his uncle’s favorite. Uncle Enzo thanked Lita and they sat together. Lita picked at her fruit salad, Lorenzo and Uncle Enzo ate without a word.
“You’re going to Italy?” Lita asked Lorenzo as she rose to clear the table.
Lorenzo stood and helped her. He breathed deeply, but only the citrusy scent of the dish soap and the lingering aroma of breakfast surrounded him.
“I leave in three days. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His temples tightened.
“I thought you were just going to deliver your father’s ashes?” she said as Lorenzo dried the dishes she washed. Her voice wavered. Better a small hurt now than what he might cause if he stayed. He felt like a robot, his movements mechanical and stiff.
“No, I have other business. No reason to be here, either.” He twisted the towel in his hand. He was a low, lying—all the more reason to stay away.
“Oh,” she said as they finished. She dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ve got to get my purse. If I don’t see you, have a good trip.”
Lorenzo watched Lita walk out.
“Call me if you think of anything else,” he said to his uncle. Again he let his longing for Lita shimmer briefly before his eyes dulled. Uncle Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“Won’t you be here for Sunday dinner? Everyone will want to see you before you go.”
“I don’t think so.” Lorenzo waved and walked out.
6
Lita waited, her hand on the downstairs bathroom’s glass doorknob. The front door banged shut. She took a few shaky breaths. Then she exhaled slowly and went into the kitchen. No reason to stay, Lorenzo’d said. She’d hoped their kiss, the promise of more, was enough. She focused her vision on Uncle Enzo, who stood and smiled back at her.
“Shall we?” Uncle Enzo asked.
Lita nodded. They went out arm in arm to visit Celeste D’Angelo. Maybe Lita could help Uncle Enzo, since she couldn’t seem to do anything for herself.
Celeste wasn’t in the market, but her daughter-in-law Eva showed them upstairs, where Celeste sat in the living room, sewing on a shirt button. She greeted them politely and when she blushed for a second, Uncle Enzo stood taller and smiled his most charming expression. Lita knew then her hunch was right--Uncle Enzo liked Celeste as more than a friend. The three sat and talked about the wonderful discovery, the neighborhood news, and their families. Lita was interested to find out that the DeGrazias and D’Angelos had known each other back in Italy and that Celeste and her husband as well as Uncle Enzo
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