by Carol Grace
“It’s none of my business,” she said, setting her cup down. She didn’t want to know about their love affair.
He nodded. He agreed with her. It was none of her business.
“Relax,” he ordered, noticing the frown on her face. “Enjoy the day. A day without the twins. Without responsibility. A day of freedom. It’s a gift from Aurora. If she hadn’t decided to return the ring, we wouldn’t be here. We’d still be in the tower.”
She let the healing rays of the morning sun warm her arms and the back of her neck. It was a different feeling. They were free and they were still together. He wasn’t working and she was acting like a tourist instead of his employee.
“Tell me Sabrina, as a nanny, how should we punish the girls for what they did to us? Or should we reward them?”
She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. Punish or reward them? She couldn’t answer that without giving away too much. She was touched that he asked her, that he wanted her opinion. If it was true that they wanted to see their father and their nanny get together then the punishment would be the knowledge that they weren’t going to.
“Their reward will be to see you take more of an interest in them.”
“Are you sure? I have the impression they want to be left alone.”
“That’s just an act. I know about that. I perfected it years ago. You pretend you don’t care then you don’t get hurt.” A lesson well learned. A lesson that had come in handy and still did.
“I know something about that,” he said soberly.
“When your wife died.”
“There’s more to it,” he said, stirring his coffee absently with a small spoon.
She sat very still, waiting, hoping he’d continue. Finally, was he going to tell her what really happened?
“I told you she crashed her car on the mountain road in the middle of the night.”
“Yes.”
“She left a note which I destroyed. No one but me knows what she wrote. She was on her way to meet the man she was leaving me for. A waiter at our favorite restaurant. She was having an affair with him. I didn’t know.”
This time Sabrina impulsively reached for his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“It was a long time ago,” he said, as if it didn’t matter any more, but she knew it did.
“I knew something was wrong, but with Maddelena one never knew what it was. She had so many issues. Nothing was every good enough for her. No one was either. Not me certainly.”
“But her babies…”
“In her note she said she knew I would care for them. She knew she wouldn’t be a very good mother. That was probably true.”
“The girls don’t know?”
He shook his head. “No one knows except the waiter and he disappeared that night. Never came back.”
“I…I’m glad you told me.”
“I’m sorry to hear you say had. Are you still determined to go?” He tightened his grip on her hand.
She sent a sideways glance in his direction. He looked like a man who needed a friend. She couldn’t be his friend. It was too much and yet too little. “It’s such a nice day and we’re celebrating our escape from the tower and our freedom, so let’s not spoil it by talking about the future.”
He smiled at her and her heart missed a beat. How could he do that to her with just a smile? “You can’t blame me for trying,” he said. “I want to make it clear. Whatever happens to the girls, I don’t want you to leave.”
To her that meant he wanted her around as a casual mistress, how casual remained to be seen. Would they go out together, would the society accept her? She didn’t want to wait around to find out. This was not the life she had in mind for herself. What was? More years back in the office with Bettina leaning over her shoulder?
“I believe you are the man who wanted to send me back on the next ferry.”
“That was then. This is now. We need you.”
And I need you, she thought. But didn’t say it. She needed him desperately like she needed air to breathe. But she had to learn to breathe without him. That was clear. She also needed the girls. She needed a family, the kind she’d never had. She didn’t need a villa with a turret or a staff to wait on her, and she certainly didn’t need a lover who found it convenient to keep a mistress. Who was determined to never marry again. She wanted commitment. She needed it. She needed to know she couldn’t be fired or replaced. She knew she would not find what she needed here. So she had to leave. She needed love. That word had not been mentioned. She was foolish to think it would be. Now that she knew the story behind his wife’s death, she understood. He was sad, but he was bitter too, and not likely to take a chance again.
She took a deep breath and said, “You need someone and I will find you someone. I promise you.”
“I don’t want anyone but you.”
“Vittorio, I can’t stay here.” Couldn’t he see that?
“Very well,” he said standing abruptly. “I won’t try to change your mind. Let’s not think about the future. We have today. The skies are clear so far, and everyone is out enjoying the holiday.”
“What about your work?”
“I deserve a break, don’t you think? After seven years?”
She nodded. He looked like he was on vacation already, in his casual sport clothes, his arms and legs tanned by the summer sunshine, the worry lines between his eyebrows gone. She wanted to believe she was at least partly responsible for the change in his attitude. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, couldn’t erase the memory of his naked body lying on top of her, of hearing his even breathing in her ear as he slept the sleep of someone complete sated, completely fulfilled. Just like her.
“What is it?” he asked, catching her gazing at him.
She dragged her eyes away. “Nothing.” She turned to look out at the lake, at the kayaks that lined the beach, the small sailboats and the ferry pulling into the dock.
“What shall we do today?” he asked, following her gaze. “My boat is in dry dock, but we can rent a sailboat right here and explore some out of the way places I know. There will be crowds around here for the festival. I want you to myself. At least until tonight when there is always dancing in the square on St. Anne’s Day.”
“What about more fireworks?” she asked.
He grinned and the glint in his eye returned. “I can promise you more fireworks. Count on it.”
She flushed. “I only meant…”
“I know what you meant,” he said. They both stood and he put one arm around her shoulder. “I understand you better than you know. Let’s go. We’ll pick up some food and sail away from here to our own private island.”
They stopped at a small shop where the proprietor greeted Vittorio with a hug like a long-lost friend and recommended proscuitto sliced paper thin, a Caprese salad with ripe tomatoes busting with flavor and Buffalo Mozzarella garnished with fresh basil leaves and dressed with a fruity olive oil, a fresh loaf of crusty bread, a citrus rice salad tossed with Parmesan cheese, tart lemon juice, olive oil and mint and something called sfingi. And of course bottles of sparkling water and a local white wine. The portly owner wiped his hands on his white apron and packed it all up in a basket for them.
He stood in the doorway of his shop, oblivious of the other customers waiting in line and waved to Vittorio, a big smile on his broad face.
They strolled together toward the dock, sharing the handle of the basket, passing groups of tourists in sunglasses and shorts disembarking from the ferry.
That was me, she thought. Only days ago. How life has changed. And yet, it hasn’t really. I have the job I wanted. But not the man I want. History repeats itself and once again I will be alone. Not now. Not today, but soon.
She forced herself to cheer up. A day with Vittorio to store in her memory.
“An old friend?” she asked with a glance back at the shop.
“Alfonso? Yes, he was telling me he was glad to see me come out of my house for on
ce. Of course he wanted to know who you were.”
Sabrina didn’t ask how he’d explained her. Did he say she was his nanny? Or did he say she was his girlfriend? Probably not. She didn’t really want to know.
“He said I looked remarkably better. He wondered if you’re responsible for that. I agree. I hadn’t smiled much until you came. I’m a different man. Look at me, going sailing instead of burying myself in my work.”
He was different. She would like to take credit for the change, but maybe she didn’t deserve it.Vittorio was ready for a change. His fiancée wasn’t right for him. He would have figured that out for himself. But what a switch from that day she arrived when he stood not far from where they were, a scowl on his face, determined to stop her from taking the job. So much had happened. To her. To him.
“I’ve changed too. I used to work too much.”
“I thought so. You had lines between your eyes.” He paused and studied her face. “Now they’re gone. I hope I get some credit for that.”
At the waterfront Vittorio rented a small sailboat and moments later they stowed their basket under the seat and were out on the water, catching the wind in their sail and skimming along past motor boats.
The wind also caught Sabrina’s hair and tousled it. She watched Vittorio tack and steer expertly with his hand on the tiller. He called to her to duck when the sail was coming around.
“You look completely at home there,” she said as he head the skiff toward a small island.
“Next time we’ll take my boat out,” he said. “I forgot how much I missed it. Elena hated being out on the water. She never learned to swim. She preferred tennis. Now we know why,” he muttered. A cloud passed over his face. She wondered how long would the memory of his cheating wife play a role in is present life? What would it take to removed the bitterness from his voice and from his psyche? Maybe nothing. How long would it take to get rid of the painful memories? Maybe forever.
Next time. She wondered if there would really be a next time.
He anchored the little boat in shallow water and they waded ashore on the tiny island he told her no one else knew about. “Robinson Crusoe,” he said, taking her hand to help her traverse the rocks on the shore. “That is me. This is the life, no?” With his other hand he carried the food basket. “We have everything we need, you and I, food and wine.”
Ravenous once again, Sabrina devoured half a baguette with proscuitto, salad and tomatoes, then stretched out on the velvety grass under a cypress tree, put her head in Vittorio’s lap and sighed with contentment.
He gazed down at her. “You are amazing. You eat like a peasant and yet you look like a fashion model.”
She laughed. She was happy, proud of herself for living in the moment, refusing to think of the future.
He leaned down, raised her shirt and kissed the cleft between her breasts. “How do you do it?”
“How do you make me feel like royalty when you know I am a peasant?”
“Years of training. Tell me again why no one has married you yet.”
“No one asked me,” she said soberly. “If they had I wouldn’t be here, eating prosciutto and drinking wine with you. I prefer having my independence. Taking care of other children. Someone has to do it. Why not me?”
“Because.”
She should have stopped him there. Making love on an island with an Italian prince after a delicious picnic lunch was not conducive to telling him you are leaving and returning to the States. That you can’t stay there any longer because you’ve broken the one rule a nanny must never break if she wants to continue to work. In fact, she had no will power, she only had a heart full to bursting with love. Love which would never be returned, which only made it stronger, fiercer. She told herself not to look for more. Just having Vittorio make love to her was enough for now. It would be over soon enough.
“Relax,” he’d said. “Enjoy the day.” How could she say no to that? She didn’t. Instead they walked around the island on an overgrown path, wondering who’d been there before them. They shed their clothes and swam in a cove in the fresh lake water. They dried off in the sun and hid behind the trees when the boats went by.
“How did you find this place?” she asked, pulling on her shorts after lying in the sun while Vittorio kissed her toes and worked his way up her bare body. She was tingling all over. She was dizzy and almost delirious, but in the back of her mind she knew soon she had to come back to earth.
“My brother and I were out sailing one day many years ago, when we discovered it. I’m sure many others had done the same, but we claimed it for our family by planting a flag we made. I don’t suppose it’s still here. But neither is anyone else. I hope,” he added, shaking his head to get the water out of his hair.
She wanted to ask if he’d taken Maddelena here but since she was afraid of the water, she’d assume he hadn’t. She wanted to be the first and last woman he’d take out here, but that was merely wishful thinking. She’d leave, he’d be recovered and he’d lead a normal life. When he thought about her he’d remember that she’d helped him recuperate and that she’d had a positive effect on the twins. That’s what she hoped.She would take credit for that, and that would be her reward.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, smoothing the worry lines in her forehead. “Aren’t you happy? Don’t you like my island?”
“Of course,” she said. And told herself not to spoil the day, not to ruin the time they had together. It would be over soon enough.
Back on the mainland in the late afternoon, they ended up back at the villa where they sat on the terrace while night fell. Vittorio stretched his legs on a chaise lounge next to Sabrina and raised a glass of Compari toward his nanny. “Here’s to you,” he said. “And our time together.”
Sabrina smiled at him. She had the most amazing smile, reaching her eyes and transforming a pretty face into so much beauty it took his breath away. If you’d asked anyone if it was possible to take Vittorio’s breath away or force him to stay at home on a weekend when there was work to do, they would have said a resounding NO! But here he was, happier than he could ever remember, sharing the weekend with the most amazing woman in the world. Now he had to be sure he didn’t lose her to some misguided idea that she couldn’t stay now that the twins didn’t need her. They needed her, and he needed her even more.
“Isn’t that your phone?” Sabrina asked, turning her head in the direction of his office.
He wasn’t surprised to hear his business phone ring. The bank knew he didn’t take weekends off. At least the old Vittorio didn’t. But he had no interest in connecting with problems that could wait until tomorrow.
“I know who it is. My bank is under the illusion that I work on weekends. Which I did, until now. From now on I will leave work early and never ever work on Saturday or Sunday.”
“The girls will appreciate that. Especially if they stay here for a few years before boarding school.”
“If they do, you will have to stay, you know.”
Sabrina’s smile faded.
“What is wrong? Don’t you like it here? Don’t you feel wanted and needed? The girls want you to stay so much they locked us in the tower.”
Of course they locked them in so they’d fall in love and get married. That was not going to happen. Vittorio would never fall in love again, never take a chance on marriage which could spoil any relationship. But the girls didn’t know that and they never would. She would take the blame for ruining their dream. It was her job, her duty.
“Yes, I know, and I’m flattered. But that doesn’t mean I can stay forever. All nannies move on eventually if they’ve done their job correctly that is.”
“What can I do to convince you?” he asked, leaning toward her and frowning. How could she think of leaving after this incredible weekend they were having? What did she want from him? “Naturally you’ll be getting a raise.”
He felt a cold chill in her gaze that told him he’d said the wrong thing.
“Is
this bribery?” she asked.
“Of course not,” he said quickly. How could she even think that? “It’s just common sense and it’s what you deserve. You’ve changed our lives. We can’t do without you. It’s a win-win situation. You stay where you’re wanted, the twins get the nanny they love and respect and you and I… We’ll have long lunches during the week when you come in to Milan and the girls are at school. I’ll leave early to take you around to see the cathedral, da Vinci’s The Last supper, the Castello Sforzesco and so much more.”
Why wasn’t she smiling, why wasn’t she as excited as he was thinking of all the things that lay ahead. A new life for him and the girls. But what about her?
“As for now, you look hungry,” he said. “Shall we go out to dinner?” She looked more tired than hungry, maybe she needed a change of scene.
“I could cook something.”
“You cook too?” He stood and extended his hand and pulled her out of her chair.
“Of course.”
First they went to the orto, the vegetable garden where they picked artichokes, peppers, tomatoes and eggplant and took them back to the kitchen.
He poured himself a glass of wine and sat at the old kitchen table where he’d once carved his initials into the surface and watched her as she chopped, simmered and grilled on the old appliances that dated from his grandmother’s day. “How did you learn to cook?”
“My mother died when I was very young. Like the twins I was left with a father who didn’t know what to do with me. Like you, he didn’t remarry, at least for a long time, so I decided I would make dinner at night for us. I got a big cookbook and I worked my way through it. He was very patient, always complimented my efforts even though they were a bit strange at times and sometimes even out and out failures.”
He stretched his legs out and gave in to the pure pleasure of watching her work. Her face was flushed, her hair brushing against her pink cheeks. She was so full of surprises. How long would it take before he got to know her, years? How could he convince her to stay?
“I haven’t been in this kitchen for years,” he said. “But my brother and I used to love coming in for treats. We’d bring in the apples from the tree and beg the cook to make fritters for us. I can still taste them hot from the griddle.”
