him that had once liked to spend time with friends. Stephano had loved the marinara sauce and every time he learned Isabella had sent some, he’d invite himself and his family over for dinner. He and the other guys at the station urged him to bring in enough for everyone.
For once the memory of his friend and the time they’d shared didn’t hurt with the searing pain of loss. It was a bittersweet memory of times that would never come again. He missed his friend and probably always would.
But life went on. Stephano had loved life so much, he would have personally come to Lake Clarissa and knocked some sense into his head if he’d known Cristiano was secluding himself like this.
Except—the flashbacks were real.
Mariella’s laugh pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up. The baby had something smeared all over his face, and his pudgy hands were spreading the mess to his hair.
“What is that?”
“Some kind of oatmeal cereal. The pediatrician is having me try it. Probably tastes like paste and feels better spread around outside than eating,” she said, trying to catch Dante’s hands to wipe them. She giggled. “He’s a mess. I’m thinking this is not one of the better ideas the doctor had.”
“You think? Hey, little man, would you like some of my papa’s sauce?”
“He’s not even six months yet. Too young for big people food.”
“A taste won’t hurt.” Cristiano dipped his pinkie into the warming sauce and then carried it to the baby. Dante grabbed his hand and pulled it to his mouth. His frown of surprise had them both laughing.
“Maybe it’s an acquired taste,” Cristiano said.
The baby had eaten and Mariella settled him on a thick blanket on the floor when Cristiano served up their lunch.
“Wow, this was definitely worth waiting for,” Mariella said after her first bite. “What makes it so great?”
“Family secret,” he said.
“Ah. I bet Rosa has a line waiting for tables every night.”
“The economy these days makes things unsettled. It does well enough, I think.” Actually, from one or two comments Isabella had made, Cristiano wondered if that was true. Maybe he should check into it. If there was a problem, he might be able to help financially; he had some money saved.
“I know people are cutting back, but good food is always relished.”
“My sister has been pestering me to talk about the situation for a while. It’s her area, not mine. Whatever she decides is fine with me.”
“Um. I just hope she decides to keep making this wonderful sauce. Does she sell it by the jar?”
He shook his head.
“She should. Maybe I can talk to her about that. She could consider an Internet mail-order business on the side. I bet folks would pay a premium. It obviously freezes well. I wonder how it could be shipped?”
“Ever the marketer?”
She nodded, but continued to look thoughtful.
“You said you went to university in New York? What was that like? Why there?”
“My dad was American, but he settled in Rome ages ago. Ever since I can remember the plan was for me to attend school there when I hit university level. After their death, it helped that New York is vastly different from Rome, so I didn’t have lots of memories to deal with at every turn. Maybe it helped with the grief, too. To have the coursework to concentrate on.”
“So now you’re back settled in Rome?” he asked.
“I’m Italian, so is Dante. There is nothing waiting for us in New York. When he’s older, I’ll take him there and show him the sights. It’s a fantastic city. But it’s not home.”
She looked up. “It was good to grow up in Rome, but I’m wondering if it might be even better to have a smaller town, where I could build a support group. A single mom will need help. I’ve lost touch with many of my friends from high school.”
And lost her best friend, he remembered.
“I couldn’t wait to move to Rome when I graduated. More vibrant, more things to do.”
“Of course. But when you got hurt, you came home. There’s a lot to be said for a country setting. Where in Rome can you get views like you have? Sitting on the patio, seeing the lake, the gorgeous hills. It’s fantastic.”
“Doesn’t offer a lot of opportunity for young people, though.”
“Ah, but that depends on what opportunities one’s looking for. I have a job, a child. My opportunities now lie in different areas than when I was single and fancy free.”
She smiled again and Cristiano was struck by her happy outlook. She seemed not to have a care in the world, though he knew differently. What was her secret to that optimistic outlook?
Not having to deal with post-traumatic stress disorder, for one thing.
“I think I’ll take the baby to the lake later. Want to come with us?” she asked.
“Will it be warm enough for him?” he asked.
“In the sunshine. I guess you’ve done it a thousand times.”
“It never gets old. The lake is beautiful all times of the year. My ankle was broken a while ago. I’m still getting it back in shape. The sooner I’m fit, the sooner I can return to work. Want to go Jet Skiing?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Sitting on the beach is enough.”
Chapter Five
CRISTIANO drove them in the car back to the village. He and Mariella took the baby to the shore near the marina. The beach was a mixture of sand and pebbles sloping gently to the water’s edge. There was a couple sitting in nearby chairs, reading. She waved to them while Cristiano settled on a spot some distance away so as not to disturb their tranquility with their presence.
He brought a blanket and soon Dante was taking tummy time facing away from the water, so he was facing up hill. When he grew frustrated, Mariella sat him up, holding him lightly so he wouldn’t fall over. He could almost balance by himself. He settled in first gnawing on the plastic keys, then throwing them down. She retrieved them and handed them back.
Again
And again.
Cristiano stretched out beside them, laughing at the baby’s antics. Mariella tossed him the keys.
“You try it,” she said.
Dante turned to see the keys and grinned at Cristiano.
“Don’t want to lose your keys,” he said, dangling them in front of the baby. “Especially when you’re older and that means wheels.”
The
