A Year at 32 September Way (26 page)

Charles cringed visibly and shuddered in embarrassment. The shame rose in his chest until his cheeks burned red and bright. It was one thing to be reduced to nothingness in front of his mother, but in front of his fiancée was another situation altogether. Charles knew it was a make-or-break moment. He could continue to let his father run off at the mouth and make even more of a fool out of both of them. Or Charles could put his foot down, once and for all, and let his father know he could no longer lord over Charles’ life.

“You’ll return to London at the end of August and can see how everything else goes after that,” continued his father, who made a slight glance toward Sofia to emphasize the last part of his statement.

“No, Father, actually, that is not how it will go,” Charles retorted, calmly but firmly. “I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I’ve made a life for myself here in Verona…a very happy life…and I will not forsake one part of it.”

“This is utter nonsense,” interrupted Charles’ father.

Charles raised one hand to signal to his father to stop. “Before any feelings are hurt or bridges are burned, Father, I will say again that my life in Verona…with Sofia…is a happy one. I shall not leave it; not on September 1
st
and perhaps never. I spoke with the bank two days ago. A transfer to the Verona headquarters is in the works. Sofia and I will remain here after our marriage, and we sincerely hope you will both be there for our special day.”

The elder
Winsdorth
was so flabbergasted by his son’s assertiveness that he was rendered speechless. Charles’ mother took full advantage of the moment and rode on the coattails of her son’s courage. “We’d love to be at your wedding and are so happy to welcome our new daughter-in-law into the family.”

Even though the elder
Winsdorth
wasn’t happy, he was wise enough to know when he was outnumbered. He rose along with his wife and exchanged hugs with Sofia, and even shook hands with his son. “I believe the travel has worn out your mother,” he offered as a convenient excuse for a quick exit.  “Perhaps we should go back to our hotel and rest for a while.” His wife agreed; while she hadn’t been worn out by the travel, she was surprisingly tired from all the exciting news and knew she would enjoy a few quiet hours dreaming about her son’s wedding and her future grandchildren. The two couples made plans to meet for dinner later in the day so they could talk more about the wedding before Charles’ parents returned to London the next morning.

After walking his parents downstairs to the courtyard, Charles returned to the apartment and took Sofia into his arms. “I’ve always known I didn’t deserve you,” he started, “but, after this afternoon, I’m certain of it.
Thank you for being so wonderful to my parents, and thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Sofia admonished him jokingly, “you deserve me, and we deserve to be together. Your father is a bit of a bear, that’s for sure. Maybe you can think of something to make the rest of the afternoon a little more pleasant after dealing with his sternness.” Sofia
kissed his neck, slowly making her way toward his ear. “Can you think of anything you’d like to do?” she whispered, nibbling softly on his earlobe.

“I most definitely can,” he responded as he scooped Sofia off her feet and carried her to their bed. It would be a romantic afternoon after all, with many more weekends of love and romance ahead of them in Verona.

***

A bottle of wine chilled on the white linen-covered table, with four glasses standing nearby. Charles and Sofia had just arrived to Marcello and Eva’s apartment for their dinner together. “Thank you for the flowers,” gushed Eva as she accepted the bouquet of yellow lilies and baby’s breath from Charles and Sofia. “Please excuse me while I put them in some water and pour the wine.”

Marcello led their guests to the sitting area, and the small talk began. They all laughed over the story of the surprise visit by Charles’ parents and his father’s expectations that he’d just leave his life in Verona behind and return to London in September. “You conducted yourself well, Charles,” observed Marcello. “You were respectful, but you stood your ground. Well done. It pleases me that you wish to remain in Verona, so that my sweet Sofia doesn’t have to leave. I have some news I want to share with you both; everyone sitting here at the table is an important part it.” Marcello raised the glass Eva handed him.
“To new plans and opportunities!”

The other three gathered around and listened intently to Marcello as they ate a dinner of homemade lasagna, with a large antipasto platter, salad, bread and cheese, and, of course, a limitless supply of wine. Marcello told the story of his meeting with Carlotta’s father and explained the outcome of the business transaction they had made. Marcello detailed the well-thought-out plans he’d made over the past week regarding the future of the wine business and the key people he wanted to place in positions for continued growth and success.

“Eva has agreed to come aboard and help in the financial department by overseeing the books,” Marcello explained to his daughter and her fiancé as he reached over and grasped Eva’s hand. “I would like it very much if you two would come to work for the business, as well. Sofia, you would be ideal in working with the vendors and customers, along with your Uncle Louis. He knows every person the vineyard has dealt with and, for a young man he’s made a tremendous contribution toward business-building.” Although Marcello had broken ties with Carlotta’s family, he still had a fondness for her youngest brother, Louis, who’d always been like a brother to Marcello. Keeping him on at the vineyard only made sense; he’d grown up there, and he lived and breathed the vines. Vendors and customers alike adored him.

“And Charles,” Marcello continued, “your banking background makes you the perfect person to head the entire financial department. What do you two think? It’s unexpected, I know. It seems we’re all in the midst of a month of change.”

The two couples talked excitedly about the new developments concerning the vineyards. Charles expressed some concerns and asked plenty of questions, just as Marcello would have
if the tables were turned. The elder man assured them all that Carlotta’s family had been well provided for in the deal and would want for nothing the remainder of their lives. Considering all they’d done, they were fortunate not to be heading to jail.

Sofia and her beau both thought that the offers of employment sounded exciting and liked the idea of working in the family business. But they wanted time to talk it over privately before making a final decision. Marcello agreed that it was wise to give it some thought and talk it over between
themselves
. “Now, let’s put the topic of business to rest and enjoy the rest of our evening,” suggested Marcello as Eva brought a fruit-covered torte to the table.

Marcello’s efforts to change the topic to something lighter provided Charles with the perfect
segue
. Without thinking about it, his left hand moved up toward his breast pocket to make sure the small box was still concealed inside. “As long as we’re changing the topic,” he piped up, “I have a new development to present.”

“You do?” questioned a smiling and surprised Sofia. “This certainly has been a day of surprises!”

“Yes, it certainly has,” agreed Charles. “But this is another good one, and it’s for you.” He smiled as he withdrew the red velvet box from his pocket. He gave Marcello and Eva a wink before dropping to one knee in front of Sofia.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Charles?” she asked excitedly. “You’ve already proposed!”

“That’s true, my darling, but I want to do it properly.” He took Sofia’s hand in his and looked up at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Marcello and Eva beaming. She had quickly snuck over to the desk to retrieve her camera and was busily snapping away as Charles began his official proposal.

“My darling, I love you, and I want the whole world to know, but especially those we are close to, like your father and Eva. Nothing would make me happier than to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Sofia?”

A small chorus of sniffles arose from where Sofia and Eva sat, and even Marcello had to discreetly wipe away a tear. “Yes, I will marry you, Charles!” Sofia exclaimed, as the other two broke out in a loud cheer.

“This calls for champagne,” announced Marcello. Eva brought over the bottle they had chilling in the
refrigerator,
and Marcello popped the cork. Together they toasted the engagement and the future success of Via del Sol. “To the future!” their voices rang out together.

***

Distant cheers rose up the stairway and slipped underneath Carlisle’s door. “Somebody’s celebrating,” she mused. She took the last sip of wine in her glass and glanced out the window. Carlisle wished she had something to celebrate, too. Instead, she was feeling about
as wishy-washy as possible. In a month and a half, her lease in Verona would be coming to an end. Shortly thereafter, it would be her fortieth birthday.

Her entire life, she’d always imagined she’d have a houseful of children and a few published books by the time she reached forty. But at the rate she was going, it appeared she would have neither. Admittedly, she’d made a lot of progress during her months in Verona, but everyone else seemed to be progressing at lightning speed while she crawled at a snail’s pace. Carlisle had never been one to worry about keeping up with the Joneses, but it would be nice to at least maintain a respectable pace in life.

Nearly a year earlier, she’d sat at her desk and pondered over Marcello’s email asking her if she wanted to commit to the apartment or not. It had taken her three days to get over her indecisiveness and say “yes,” after going back and forth on the idea. She knew that coming to Verona had been one of the best decisions of her life. Yet, now that the time had come to decide if she was going to return to Seattle as planned, she found herself vacillating again. “Why are you so wishy-washy?” she asked herself in frustration. “You’ve had one of the best years of your life; why
wouldn’t
you stay?”

But even as the question came out of her mouth, Carlisle knew the answer. Staying in Verona and choosing to be happy again felt like betraying Will and Anna’s memory. In her mind, she knew she wasn’t betraying them, and she knew they’d both want her to be happy. “Shed the guilt,” Will always told her whenever she felt pressured to relinquish time for herself to tend to those around her. “Stop sacrificing your life to help others lead theirs,” he said. “Believe it or not, you’ll do everyone around you a huge favor when you put the focus on yourself sometimes.”

It was amazing that after all these
years,
he still had the ability to open her eyes to the truths she struggled to see. “Thank you, Will,” she whispered. Although she hadn’t made a final decision, Carlisle knew she could let go of the emotional reasons that prevented her from deciding whether to stay in Verona or return to Seattle. With the weight of that baggage off her shoulders, she could focus on the pros and cons of her options and the implications of her final choice on her future.

Another loud choir of cheers drifted up the stairway; somewhere in the building someone was celebrating a choice they’d made. Carlisle wanted to be that person. Truth be told, she knew her “moment of wishy-washiness” had dragged on far longer than just a moment. For the past eight years, since she’d lost her husband and daughter, she’d put her life on a shelf. At first it was reasonable not to make any major life decisions but, at some point, life had to go on. And that time was now.

Chapter 21

At 9 o’clock in the morning, the temperature was already heating up, and it looked like it would be another hot August day. Summertime in Verona was unlike anything Carlisle had ever experienced in Seattle or Portland. Throughout the month of July and now in early
August, it was clear why the Italians were so firm about continuing their long-standing tradition of siesta from 1pm to 4pm every day. During that time, all the shops closed, and their owners and workers went home to eat and nap. There was simply no other way to deal with the sweltering heat during the hottest summer months, and no one minded running their shop until 8 or 9pm to compensate for being closed during the afternoon.

Carlisle arrived at the café a bit early and ordered her first cappuccino of the day while waiting for Josh. The two had made Sunday morning cappuccino a weekly event whenever he was in town and usually followed it by exploring local museums, gardens or going window-shopping together. Both of them enjoyed having a friend to spend some time with each week without the pressure of trying to force it into being something more. Over the course of the last couple months, they’d come to appreciate one another’s companionship and the chance to talk with someone about everything or nothing, with no strings attached.

The wide-brimmed hat shading her eyes and protecting her skin from the sweltering sun obstructed Carlisle’s view, and she didn’t notice Josh as he walked across the square. He sat down at the table so quickly she practically jumped. “Surprise!” he chuckled, laughing at her startled reaction. “Off on another planet this morning?”

“No, I’m here!” She gave him a lighthearted elbow in the side. “But you kind of snuck up on me!”

Her neighbor and friend looked relaxed, more so than she’d seen him look in months. “You look like you’ve taken the weight of the world off your shoulders, Josh. How are you? What’s going on?”