Invitation to Italian

by Tracy Kelleher

  Sebastiano recognized a motherly instinct. He shut his umbrella and rested it by the front door. “No, no thank you. It’s very generous, but I don’t plan to intrude for any longer than necessary. I would have called, but your phone appears to be out.”

  Lena nodded. “Yes, the storm, you know? It knocked out the telephone line. Our electricity was affected, for a while, too, but, thank goodness, it came back on about an hour ago, which was good since that meant that nothing spoiled in the refrigerator. Are you sure you won’t have something to eat? A little meat loaf? Stuffed cabbage?” she asked.

  “No, I’m sure. To tell you the truth, I’m on a bit of a mission.”

  “Mission?”

  “I’m looking for your daughter, Zora. She’s in my Italian class at the Adult School on Wednesday evening? I have something important to discuss with her.” As if that explained why he had come unannounced.

  “Zora?” Lena looked puzzled. She turned her head and shouted up the stairs. “Zora! Your teacher from the Adult School is here to see you.” Lena looked back at Sebastiano. “This is just like the old days. When my daughter would get in trouble in high school.” She nudged closer. “I love it. But don’t tell her.”

  Sebastiano nodded. He didn’t have a lot of time. He didn’t have much of a sense of humor at the moment, either. He lifted his head and watched the stairway for signs of movement.

  “I’m coming, just a minute,” he heard a woman’s voice call from upstairs, then the sound of stockinged feet before Zora came to view at the head of the stairs.

  She descended quickly, letting her hand glide down the banister as she did. “What’s up? I was just on the phone to the airlines again. Nothing’s flying out of Newark or Philadelphia, but I’m going to try JFK,” she said. She noticed Sebastiano.

  “Oh, sorry,” Zora said and unconsciously patted the side of her head, slipping a lock of hair behind her ear that had sprung lose from her braid. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. You see I’ve just been packing. Something’s come up, so I’m leaving earlier than I had originally planned. In fact, I meant to email you that I won’t be able to come to the rest of your classes, which I enjoyed very much by the way.”

  Sebastiano wet his lips and took a moment before he spoke. He knew he had only one chance—at most—and he didn’t want to blow it. “That’s very nice of you to say, but I didn’t come here today to talk about the class.”

  “You didn’t?” Zora asked.

  “You didn’t?” Lena echoed. She stared back and forth between the two.

  Sebastiano focused on Zora. “I came to talk about your family.”

  “My family?” Zora looked puzzled. “You mean my mother? Is there something wrong she hasn’t told me? I know you’re a doctor.”

  “I’m fine,” Lena reassured her.

  “I have no reason not to believe that,” Sebastiano confirmed. “No, I mean your other family.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JULIE SAT IN THE KITCHEN of her parents’ home, stripped to her underwear and wrapped in a blanket. She punched in the number on her cell phone. For the past hour, she’d been lifting boxes from the floor of the basement and putting them on shelves and worktables. The lighter stuff she’d managed to hoist up the flight of stairs and put in the garage next to her parents’ two cars. With the power still out, the sump pump in the cellar wasn’t working. The water was rising.

  At this point, it came about two and a half feet up the cinderblock walls, and she no longer felt safe wading through the water. She could hardly see where she was going, even holding a flashlight in her mouth. Potentially more dangerous, she didn’t want to risk getting electrocuted. The oil burner was already submerged, as was the electric hot-water heater. The circuit breaker panel would be next.

  Given that her clothes had gotten completely soaked, she’d stripped off her outer garments and after toweling off in her parents’ bedroom, had decided to sit in her bra and panties rather than her mother’s housecoat. The army blanket over her shoulders completed the depressing picture.

  The phone picked up at the other end. “Hi, is Katarina there? It’s Julie.”

  “Oh, Julie, it’s Ben. We have company right now for dinner. Could she call you back?” Katarina’s husband asked.

  “Is it her father? Paul Bedecker?”

  “How did you know?” Ben asked. “Oh, that’s right. Lena sent you an email earlier.”

  Julie rubbed her eyes. “Listen, I don’t want to bother you then, but please tell Katarina that if she needs me, she can call—anytime.” The sweat she’d built up from dragging her parents’ stuff in the basement was drying off, and she pulled the blanket more tightly around her to keep from shivering. “Anyway, give her my best, and if you get a chance, could you ask her if they have a spare generator at her office?”

  “Spare generator?”

  “Yeah, I’m at my parents’ place and the power is out.”

  “Well, we’re okay out here, so if you want, you can always come over,” Ben offered.

  “No, I’m fine. I can use a flashlight and my mom’s got some candles, and if I run out, there’s always my grandmother’s votive candles. No, light’s not a problem. Not even the fact that there’s no heat—”

  Ben’s voice became more emphatic. “Julie, with no heat, you really should come to our place.”

  “It’s not that cold, really. What I’m more concerned about is getting their sump pump up and running. With no electricity, their basement’s flooding. I’ve already made calls to Home Depot and a bunch of other people, but no luck—either they’re sold out, or they’re using the one they’ve got, or they’re in the same boat as me.”

  “Did you try your father’s garage?” Ben suggested.

  “That was my first try. There wasn’t any answer. I’m sure the mechanics have gone home long ago, and besides, with the roads blocked all around, I’m not sure I could even get there, let alone find what I need. But not to fear. I’ll just keep trying more people, and with any luck, the power will come back on soon.” Julie tried to sound optimistic.

  “Okay, if you say so,” Ben replied, not sounding totally convinced. “I’ll make some calls from my end, too. And the number you’re calling from is the best one for reaching you?”

  “That’s right. I’m using my cell since the landline’s out. Unfortunately, my battery’s running low, so I’m not sure how much longer I’ll have service. I might have to hoof it to someplace nearby that’s got some power—probably the shopping center. I’m sure Dunkin’ Donuts will not fail me in an emergency.” She laughed and switched off. Then she rested the phone on the table. She cupped her hands atop it and dropped her weary head on them. Right now, even a glazed donut didn’t hold much attraction.

  “I’M AFRAID YOU’RE barking up the wrong tree, Dr. Fonterra,” Zora said, not bothering to mask the displeasure in her voice. “If this storm hadn’t come through, I’d already be out of here. I don’t know what Paul told you about his dinner with Katarina tonight, but what you might not know is that Katarina made it very clear that she didn’t want me there. So if he sent you over here—”

  “No, Paul doesn’t know I’m here. I came because I thought it was important not to let the opportunity pass.”

  A phone rang in the kitchen, but nobody moved.

  It rang again before Lena spoke. “That’s my cell phone. I’ll have to get that,” she said.

  Sebastiano waited for her to leave the room, then looked back at Zora. “Think of Paul,” he argued.

  “Excuse me. I’m supposed to think of Paul?” She pressed her hand against her fleece top. “My lasting memories of Paul are of someone who was more attached to pot and his ambitions, not exactly sterling qualifications for shouldering the responsibilities of fathe rhood.”

  Sebastiano nodded. “Addiction is a sickness. I know. I’m an alcoholic myself. Paul’s behavior was selfish and cruel. And I know he is truly sorry. But what you’re doing now is just as cruel, and it doesn’t help
anyone.”

  “Ha, it helps me,” Zora retorted. She paced back and forth. “I didn’t come back looking to reestablish some fairy tale idea of a perfect family. Not everyone gets to be a father. Not everyone gets to have a father. Look at me. My father died before I ever really knew him.”

  “And just because you suffered, you think Paul should suffer, too?”

  Zora stopped and gave Sebastiano a withering glance. “Frankly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think or feel now. I thought I had left all of this behind me.”

  “At least try to explain that to your daughter. Talk to her some more. Just don’t run away now.”

  Zora harrumphed. “My daughter? Katarina? She doesn’t even want to talk to me. Listen—” she held up her hand “—I’m sure you think you’re doing the right thing by coming here, but it’s just not going to work.”

  “Why? Because you’re afraid?”

  “No, because I know my daughter doesn’t love me.”

  “Or maybe you’ve never given her a chance to love you?” Sebastiano suggested.

  She glanced back toward the kitchen where her mother had just finished talking on the phone.

  Sebastiano pressed his lips together. “You can believe me or not about your daughter. That’s your choice. But one thing I do know—running away won’t help matters. And I say that as one of the last big runners.”

  He stepped close to her, crowding Zora’s personal space intentionally. Why should she feel secure and safe? He certainly didn’t. “You can run, but you can’t hide—from memories, from other people’s criticisms, from the truth, but most of all from yourself.”

  Lena walked down the hall quickly. “That was Katarina,” she announced.

  Zora spun around. “Katarina? She wants to see me after all?”

  Sebastiano turned his gaze to Lena. She eyed him, and then turned her focus on her daughter. “I need to say something—as one mother to another. Sometimes daughters…they don’t know everything. Sometimes they are hurting. That’s the time when a mother must step in, not to judge or control but to offer support.”

  Lena held up her hand when Zora was about to speak. “We can argue about this later—as I am sure you will. You haven’t been my daughter this long for me not to know how you will react. But that will have to wait. Sometimes other people’s problems take president.”

  “Precedence,” Zora corrected.

  Lena smirked at Sebastiano. “See, they never stop correcting you. But listen, I have an important message. Katarina called to say that Julie is in trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Sebastiano stepped toward her. “She’s hurt?”

  Lena raised her eyebrows. “No, she’s fine. But she’s at her parents’ house. Apparently, they’re away.”

  “In Italy.” Sebastiano provided the details.

  Lena nodded. “Of course. The thing is, their house has no power and that means the sump pump isn’t working. The basement’s flooded. The heat is out and there’s no hot water, and now maybe the electrical wiring will short. And of course, there’s all this stuff getting ruined. She desperately needs a generator. I don’t have one. I have other things left over from the hardware store like tools and power saws, but no generator.”

  Sebastiano studied Lena then spoke determinedly. “I suppose she tried places like Home Depot and Ace Hardware?”

  “So she said.”

  He snapped his fingers. “You know, I’m pretty sure I can get my hands on a gas-powered pump. That would work, right?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Lena said.

  Sebastiano pulled out his cell phone but stopped before dialing. “The only problem is my car’s a sedan. The pump will never fit. We need some kind of a truck.”

  There was a moment of silence except for the rain beating against the windows.

  Lena regarded Zora critically. “So, suddenly you have nothing to say?”

  Zora rolled her eyes. “All right, I have a pickup, a rental. But I really want to try to get out of here.”

  “You can’t spare an hour to help out someone who’s been your daughter’s friend practically her whole life?” Lena asked. “Like you really have a plane to catch in this weather?”

  “Okay, okay,” Zora protested. “But one hour. And then I’m gone.”

  Lena looked triumphant. But then she creased her brow. “The only problem is Katarina said that there’re trees down in the road around Julie’s parents’ house.”

  Sebastiano smiled. “Not to worry. Didn’t I just hear you say you had power saws? That wouldn’t include a chain saw by any chance?”

  “Not only that, I have the gasoline to power it.”

  “That’s music to a man’s ears. Now, let me just track down this pump.” And he started working the phone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Julie stood dumb-founded in the doorway of her parents’ house.

  “I tried calling, but I couldn’t get through,” Sebastiano explained from the top step.

  “I know. The battery’s dead, and I was about to walk to Dunkin’ Donuts to try and charge my phone.”

  “That makes sense. Somehow I didn’t get the impression that you were preparing to entertain royalty.” He gave her a quick once-over as if to prove his point.

  Julie looked down at herself. She had found an old Fairleigh Dickenson sweatshirt belonging to her brother Joey, which accommodated her broad shoulders. The sleeves were hacked off somewhere around the elbows, and she’d paired the top with her mother’s track pants. She wasn’t exactly dressed for the ball. But she didn’t much care. She was tired and sore, not to mention hungry. She stiffened her back. “My clothes got wet, and this is the best I could muster up. Besides, as far as I know, there’s no dress code at Dunkin’ Donuts.”

  “When this is over, I promise I’ll take you to someplace where you do need to dress up. But for now, show me the problem.”

  Julie put her hands on her hips. “Wait a minute. Who told you I had a problem?”

  “You need to ask in this town how he found out?” A woman’s voice came from behind him.

  Julie leaned to the side to get a better look at who was talking. She saw someone in a dark green anorak with the hood drawn over her face.

  “You remember Katarina’s mother, Zora, don’t you?” Sebastiano asked. “She sits in Italian class near you?”

  Zora lifted her arm and the tips of her fingers emerged from a sleeve. She waggled them hello.

  “Oh, yeah, hi,” Julie said, still mystified by the turn of events. “I must confess, I certainly didn’t expect you here.”

  “You and me both,” Zora said. “In my defense, I was shanghaied as a means of transportation.” She pointed over her shoulder to the Toyota Tacoma.

  Julie blinked. “I’m amazed that you could get that over here.”

  “I’d like to say it was my stupendous off-road driving ability that allowed me to navigate the way, but it’s more Sebastiano’s doing. Let me tell you, the sight of a man wielding a chain saw is a powerful image,” Zora declared.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Julie glanced back at Sebastiano, and frankly, she didn’t need much imagination to go there. Even after his lumberjacking act, Sebastiano looked pretty amazing. He had his jacket off and was wearing just his white dress shirt and dark trousers. Gone was the carefully knotted tie. His sleeves were rolled up and his shirt unbuttoned. Speaking of the shirt, it had turned semitransparent from the rain and was molded to his body. The muscles in his arms rippled and the tendons stood out as he stood there arms akimbo.

  She realized that she’d been admiring him with her mouth open. She snapped it shut and swallowed. “So you got to play with a chain saw?” Julie asked.

  “I told you I was a regular mountain man in my youth.” He beamed, seemingly enjoying himself.

  “Well, I’m glad I was a good excuse to make that happen again,” she said.

  “You’re a good excuse for many things,” he said, a smil
e tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  They stared at each other.

  “Listen, not to interrupt this little interlude where I’m clearly not wanted—”

  Julie snapped out of it. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she protested.

  “Please, I may have all the sensitivity of a two-by-four when it comes to dealing with people, but I am pretty confident about my abilities as a scientist to observe natural phenomenon,” Zora said.

  “There’s nothing going on between us,” Julie denied.

  “I was talking about the rain,” Zora clarified. “And as I understand it, you have a flood emergency. So, if we could get this thing off the truck…”

  Sebastiano hopped down the steps and joined Zora. “Of course. I’m sorry to keep you here. I know how eager you are to leave Grantham.”

  “To tell you the truth, I was thinking of delaying my departure for a while.”

  “The weather?” Sebastiano asked as he undid the heavy straps that secured the bulky pump.

  “That and I think that…I don’t know…seeing the two of you made me think that perhaps it’s time for me to grab a little dinner with…ah, close friends—family actually,” Zora stuttered.

  “I applaud your decision, so to speed you on your way, let me get this pump off the truck.” Sebastiano clapped his hands and set to work, heaving the heavy equipment off the truck bed.

  Zora bade a quick goodbye and headed back the way they’d come. Meanwhile, Julie led Sebastiano to the garage and the stairway leading to the basement. The water was still rising, with only the top two steps still visible. “I presume that pump is gas-powered?”

  Sebastiano looked at her abashed. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  Even exhausted, Julie had to chuckle at his echoing of her own words. “I suppose this is when I should thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me yet.” He peered into the murky darkness. “Have you got a flashlight?”

  “Here.” She passed him the one that she had left in the garage.