Designs of the Heart

by Renee Ryder

  The brief interaction hadn’t cheered her spirits after Ryan and his damn message.

  Him leaving the ball in her court was intolerable. Writing back that yes, he could call her, would give the incorrect impression that she had easily forgiven him. But throwing the ball back with a ‘no’ would mean she was playing into his presumptions. Either way, he stayed in control. She could practically hear his reasoning, “I’ll have my mom tell her I’m not coming, give her a day to calm down. Then call and make everything fine.”

  In a moment of resolve, she grabbed her cell phone and called him. But not a video call.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Each of the four rings before he picked up had been like timed explosions of dynamite on her anxiety.

  “Hi.”

  “Oh, Hannah, it’s so good to hear your voice! How are you?”

  His tone was soft and tentative, which usually opened the doors of her heart in sympathy, but this time a vindictive instinct kept them barred, almost feeling pleased at forcing him to knock.

  “Am I interrupting anything more important?”

  “Babe, what are you saying?! Nothing’s more important than you.”

  Such a hypocrite. “Well, you’ve been so busy at work that I didn’t want to tear you away from it.”

  He stayed quiet for a moment before responding.

  “Okay. I deserve that. I deserve all the blame in the world. Can I just say one thing?”

  “Sure.” She displayed a serenity to him that she didn’t feel.

  “I know you’re furious with me and have—”

  You can bet on that one, jerk.

  “—every right to be. I messed up, babe.”

  Really? I didn’t notice.

  “Monday morning we were panicking about a problem with the software and I wasn’t—”

  Again with this damn software?

  “—able to leave. I knew that if I’d called you, we’d have fought and in that—”

  I would’ve kicked your ass through the telephone!

  “—moment that was the last thing I wanted. That’s why I called my mom to tell you guys—”

  Really mature to go hide behind your mommy.

  “—about the situation. I know that I acted like kind of a jackass and I—”

  More like a complete asshole.

  “—feel terrible. But I’m doing all this for our future. I’m doing—”

  Oh really, you did it for me. Thanks a lot.

  “—my best, babe. I know that it’s hard for you, too, but I don’t want to give up on our dream because I—”

  Our? Is your dream Lifeline?

  “—love you more than my own life. If I’d made you my priority, I would’ve lost the opportunity with John. By giving him precedence and asking—”

  Will your precious John be your priority when you get hard?

  “—you to have patience, I could have both things. Does what I’m saying make sense?”

  “Of course, Ryan.”

  “You mean you’re not mad at me?”

  “I’m not in seventh heaven, but if I put myself in your shoes I can understand your perspective.” Like hell I understand! “That’s why I’ve decided to enjoy my vacation until you get here, instead of wallowing in resentment.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  Bastard.

  “So tell me, how have you been spending your days?”

  “Sue and Roger are fantastic. I’m with them most of the time. On the beach, seeing Porto Loreno, going to restaurants. Just tonight something really funny happened in a pizzeria …”

  “Oh yeah? What was it?”

  “You know, the weather is perfect here,” she went on. “Warm, but not too humid.”

  “I wish I could be there with you!”

  Fucking hypocrite! “The rest of the time, I’ve been practicing Italian with people here. I’m learning a ton of phrases, but even better I’m remembering things I forgot I knew.” She tried to show she was happy, but avoided triggering any jealousy by mentioning Nico.

  “Well, that’s awesome. I’m glad that you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “Me, too. I also started drawing. I’ve found some unbelievable places here!”

  “I hope on Friday you’ll take me to see them.”

  “If you come, sure.”

  “Babe, if you don’t see me on Friday it’ll only be because the plane crashed. This time nothing, and I mean nothing, is gonna stop me. I promise you.”

  “Wow, you sound like Braveheart.”

  “Oh, sarcasm. That’s fair. When I get there, I’m gonna treat you like a princess and—”

  “Um, I hate to cut this short, but I can’t keep my eyes open. Today was a very long day and I need to get some sleep.”

  “I’m guessing that you don’t feel like giving me any of the details.”

  “Not right now.”

  “Okay, babe.”

  “…”

  “Well then, sweet dreams. Um, before you go, I just wanted to know …” She heard timidity in his voice.

  “Yes?”

  “So … are we all good?”

  “We’re all good.”

  “You sure you’re not mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Then can I call you tomorrow?”

  “You can. But if I don’t answer, call your mom. She’ll give me the message.”

  “Ouch! So you are mad.”

  “Goodnight, Ryan.” She hung up, satisfied with having played by her own rules this time.

  She’d kept hold of her control for the entire conversation, only to stumble at the finish line. Evidently this pebble in her shoe bothered her more than she’d realized.

  15. Expectations

  As planned, at nine Hannah and Roger were waiting in the area where Nico usually kept his boat. Not as planned, Susan; with the cooking class at ten, she’d wanted to join them in choosing the fish so that they could then go to the trattoria together for the lesson. Roger’s attempt at getting out of the “culinary torture” had been cut off immediately.

  The part of the beach used for the boats only held about a dozen, some covered and solitary, others with fishermen busy unloading their catches, folding the nets, and similar work. They saw no sign of Nico or his boat.

  “I guess they’re still out at sea,” she said to the Corwins, trying to justify his absence to fill the silence as they waited.

  The task was made easier by the pleasant mixture of heat from the sun and breezes from the sea, as well as by Roger. Always on top of news from back home in the States, he kept updating her and Susan about current events. However, the more minutes that passed, the more a niggling doubt grew that she struggled to ignore …

  When she’d explained who her friends were to Nico, it was like he’d lost some wind from his sails, but instead of attempting to understand this reaction, she had simply brushed off her observations as distorted by her heightened emotions this week. His lateness this morning made her reconsider.

  She thought about the time they’d spent together, from covering the boat to the toast to their shared passion for art, and the possibility that he’d done all of it with the goal of hitting on her didn’t seem so implausible. Actually, it was more likely than a good-looking Italian guy spending so much of his meager free time with a tourist simply for the pleasure of her company.

  She tried to imagine what Lauren would say about the situation. I’m not even gonna mention it to her. She’d laugh at how naive I’ve been.

  She continued chatting with Roger and Susan, but mentally lingered on Nico’s possible expectations. She spied his boat pointed towards the shore and, in this state of mind, the presence of Ryan’s parents only increased her discomfort. She felt as though she’d bought a wedding dress that fit perfectly in the shop, but in the church constricted all of her movements.

  Now Nico’s disappointment at the news that she
had a boyfriend seemed obvious to her and she wondered why in the world she had invited Roger to come here with her. And that Susan had also joined them made her even more nervous. As for why she herself had insisted with Nico about getting more fish, that remained the big mystery.

  By now, though, they were there and she had nothing left but hope that her conjectures had no foundation.

  When the boat reached the shore, she took in a deep breath and stepped from the cobblestones to the sand. Susan and Roger followed her towards Nico; who, after catching sight of them, jumped down from the boat and came to meet them.

  They greeted each other, with her busy suffocating in awkwardness as she played interpreter. At the same time, Nico’s father tucked the oars into place along the inside edge of the boat and took out some large blocks of wood. They were shaped like huge bricks but with a shallow curve along the top. He worked his way across the sand, setting them in a single file line to form a makeshift ramp between the boat and its usual resting place. He called over two nearby middle-aged men who were busy with their traps and Nico excused himself to join his dad at the water’s edge.

  She understood that they had to pull the boat up the ramp when the other two guys positioned themselves on each side of the bow and grabbed hold of it, while Nico and his dad did the same near the oarlocks.

  Fitting the boat’s keel into the channel made by the concave blocks, they began to pull it up the dry sand, but beating inertia and the beach’s visible incline proved too difficult.

  “Give us a hand,” Nico’s dad said, turning to Roger.

  She felt perplexed. This man, always serious and focused on his work, had never spared a glance for “these tourists” that kept interacting with his son—even yesterday, when she’d apologized for misunderstanding about the photo, he’d ignored her—and now he was speaking with the same casual openness he used with his fishing friends? Nevertheless, his friendly tone persuaded her to translate for Roger, who didn’t wait for him to ask twice and, with the enthusiasm of a person who likes making themselves useful, he took off his sandals and joined the fishermen. Nico gave up his own post for him and moved to the stern, wading in the sea up to his calves. Then, with him pushing and the others pulling, they won their battle with inertia and got it moving up the slope, sliding it on the wooden supports as though it were going downhill. The operation ended when they positioned the boat on the last of the blocks—with wooden support slabs wedged into the sand at opposite angles to prop the bow firmly upright.

  “Thanks,” Nico’s dad said to Roger, who gave them a macho nod of acknowledgment before returning to Susan, visibly proud of himself.

  As they selected the fish, she took care of translating Roger’s questions and explanations from Nico and his dad. Even though she felt much more comfortable now speaking Italian, she wasn’t very satisfied with how it went; she had to repeatedly refer to the language app. She didn’t always know the names of the fish they mentioned in either language—some of which Roger didn’t even know—and felt inadequate when pausing to consult her phone. She made up for that by maneuvering effortlessly through the short conversation Susan wanted to have with Nico about him and his work, maybe to ensure that he was trustworthy. Based on expression and tone, she thought Susan looked somewhat reassured. If nothing else, the situation kept her focused on translating and chased away the embarrassing thoughts about Nico’s presumed ulterior motives.

  In the end, Roger opted for some saraghi, just as flavorful but more tender than the pezzogne. She bought two because they were well over a pound each. When she pulled out her wallet, Nico tried to refuse the money and pointed out that Roger had helped with the boat. However, she succeeded in getting him to name a price and made him accept twenty euros—although she suspected that he’d given them quite a discount.

  Then they thanked each other and said their goodbyes.

  Before going to the trattoria, she needed to drop the fish off at home. She got partway down the street between the buildings and the beach, feeling a great sense of relief at Nico’s friendly attitude, when she heard him call after her.

  She turned. He was waving to her from the edge of the beach.

  “I think he wants you to go back.” Susan had looked, too.

  “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time.” Susan held up the bag with the saraghi. “We have a little while before the lesson. In the meantime, I’m going to run up and put these in the fridge.”

  Slowly, she approached Nico, his face coming into clearer focus. His features were hardened in apparent tension. A tension that reawoke her own.

  “What’s up, Nico?” She gave him a friendly smile that she hoped made her seem calm.

  “Nothing. I was wondering if … You’d like to come to a village festival? They’re having one in a nearby town.”

  The request was so unexpected that she didn’t know how to respond.

  “I think you’ll like it,” he added, sounding more sure of himself as he spoke. “There are stands where you can try the local specialties. Appetizers, pastas, meats, desserts, fruit, drinks, whatever you want … Everything made by artisans and grown by local businesses. There’ll be a ton of people. They come from all over.”

  As he described it, her curiosity gradually overtook the surprise. It must have clearly shown on her face, enough that Nico seemed encouraged by the change. The initial tension dissolved in the wake of his contagious enthusiasm.

  “They’re ancient recipes that people have passed down to their children for centuries. It’s about traditions you can only find there.”

  It sounded tempting.

  “Considering how much you like Italy, I thought that you’d be interested in a folk festival. I wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t know if it was appropriate. Then I remembered that today’s the last day of the festival, so …”

  “Actually, I would like that a lot. You know, one of the reason for which I prefer to go in small towns more than in big cities is for things like this.”

  “Great! So, you wanna go?”

  “I have to talk first to them,” and she nodded in the direction of Susan and Roger. “We have to go to a restaurant because of a cooking course. But I think that we can change plans.”

  “All of you? But I meant just … us.”

  His uncertainty instantly brought back her worries.

  “Well, it would be rude if I drop them to come with you,” she explained, emphasizing the more palatable reason instead of her deeper concern—inviting just her could have other implications that she’d rather not find out.

  “Of course. I just thought we’d take my dad’s Vespa ’cause some streets are so narrow and others are closed for the festival. But, whatever. It’s ok. I’ll take the car, but it won’t be a Lamborghini.”

  With the kindness and willingness that he’d just displayed, she saw him again as the guy who she’d felt so comfortable with until her doubts about his intentions had put her on guard. It was nice to set aside these suspicions and go back to feeling spontaneous. Now she really did feel a bit guilty for having attributed his intentions as potentially lewd.

  “Okay. Let me ask to them. I will be right back.”

  “In the meanwhile I’m gonna finish unloading. If you don’t find me at the boat, I’ll be in the storage room.”

  “Perfect. Later.”

  She chased after Roger and Susan, but only found them when she’d gone all the way up to the apartment. The chat with Nico must have lasted longer than she’d realized.

  “Hey, I’ve got some news,” she told them as she walked into the kitchen. Roger was pouring a glass of water and Susan was putting the saraghi on an oval platter. “Nico told me about a festival they’re having in a village a ways away. Do you want to go?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, Sue. He says that today is the last day.”

  “It might be more interesting than the cooking class.” Roger smiled at his wif
e.

  “Maybe we could reschedule it for tomorrow, Sue. Nico says that it’s a celebration of the foods that are typical of this area. It’s something unique. Recipes handed down for generations. Traditional dishes prepared with locally made, heirloom ingredients.”

  “You seem excited about going.” Susan rinsed her hands in the sink.

  “I am. But if you don’t want to, it’s not a problem.” She tried to hide her disappointment in case they said no.

  “You know what?” Susan came over to her, drying her hands with a towel. “I think you should go experience it.”

  Roger’s frown deepened. “By herself?”

  “From the way you proposed it, it’s clear that you’d love to go.” Susan ignored her husband. “I made reservations with the manager at the trattoria before we left Seattle and it wouldn’t be right to cancel on him at the last minute.”

  “I understand. Don’t wo—”

  “But you aren’t obligated,” Susan interrupted, taking her by the shoulders as if in encouragement. “Try to understand, dear. For us the only thing that matters is that you have fun on your vacation. Ryan’s ruining it for you with his behavior, but luckily we have a wonderful connection now that makes the situation acceptable, for the most part.”

  “Acceptable? But Sue, I love spending time with you and Roger!”

  “We know, sweetie. And we’re happy about it. At the same time, we know that a girl in her twenties can’t truly enjoy a vacation with people who are twice her age. It’s only natural.”

  “But …”

  “I got a good impression of Nico when I talked to him, and you two seem to have established a great friendship.”

  “Yes, but …”

  “Listen, Hannah. If you don’t want to go to this festival, come along with us. We didn’t reserve spots for three people, but hopefully the manager could make room for you, too. I don’t want you to miss out on something because of us. That said, look at me. Honestly, which do you prefer? The festival or the cooking class?”

  16. Hanging Clothes

  When she put on a helmet and climbed onto a scooter for the first time in her life, sitting behind Nico on his Vespa and wearing the empty backpack that he’d passed to her, Hannah really started to feel like Anna.