A Year at 32 September Way (8 page)

Sofia took it all in. The apartment was neat as a pin, the way Charles’ office always was. His leather-bound agenda was open to the current date and had a list of things to do, just as always. The only thing looking out of place was Charles. It looked as if he hadn’t showered,
changed or taken care of himself at all for a week or more. This was so unlike him, she thought as her brow furrowed. “Have you been ill, Charles?”

He scratched his head, looking confused and disoriented. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know what happened, really.” He stood in place, looking past Sofia as he tried to recount his days.

“I don’t remember anything. I can’t remember the last few days,” he stammered. “I just remember arriving here and feeling so out of place, like a fish out of water. I wanted so desperately to feel like I belonged here, but I knew I didn’t. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Okay, Charles,” Sofia reassured him. “We can fix this. Let’s start by getting you cleaned up. Once you feel more like yourself, we can figure everything out. You belong here. You belong wherever you are. I believe that.”

She helped Charles out of his jacket and hung it on a hanger near the window she’d just opened. “Go get out of those clothes now and take a shower,” she gently instructed. It felt strange to be the one giving the directions; Charles was always the boss, kind but firm, knowing exactly what must be done and when. Everything was always in order, especially the man himself. Now, Sofia could see it was necessary to step in. She could see that Charles, the man who’d been so successful and confident, had never made it to Verona, and somehow she needed to help the man in front of her reconnect with him. The only problem was that Sofia never knew that Charles wasn’t confident in London. He’d been “propped up” and held together by all the order in his home and business lives. The moment it had all been taken away from him, the moment he’d left the path he’d been directed to take, he’d fallen apart…just the way his father always said he would.

***

Josh glanced out the livery’s rear window. The hustle and bustle of Verona began to fade into the distance, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he slid down into the cushioned seat. Truth be told, it wasn’t Verona he was relieved to get away from but his wife and her inability to cope with change. The first two weeks had been long and stressful; by the time Josh packed his bags to leave for Siena, his saint-like patience had begun to wear thin.

Friends often wondered how he did it, how he managed to live with such a high-maintenance woman. Sometimes he wondered that himself. But he’d made a commitment to Nicolette, and that meant something to him. He realized he was probably the only man left in the film industry to honor his vows, but that’s who Josh was, and he wasn’t about to change. No matter how difficult it got.

The red clay tiled roofs became fewer and farther between as the landscape was overtaken by lush, green vineyards boasting vines laden with heavy bunches of green and purple grapes. When the rolling hills of Tuscany weren’t bragging about this year’s grapes, they reveled in the plump bounty of the olive trees. Tuscany was a sight to behold, and Josh could feel himself relax physically and mentally as his six-day respite from Nicolette began. The week would be full of pre-production work, and he looked forward to checking out the film locations with the rest of the team. Nicolette had every chance to come with him, but she had
no desire to “be bored all week long.” It was just as well; Josh smiled as he gazed out the car window. He had no desire to be stressed out all week long.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he thought about their first two weeks in Verona. Day in and day out, it was the same: Nicolette whined, cried or complained about something, and Josh did his best to please or placate her. In the end, all of his efforts fell short except for making love to her. That was the one thing they had going in their marriage. It always had been and, no matter what, their sex life never faltered. Thank god for that, he thought.

Then his smile disappeared. Their first two years of marriage hadn’t been easy, but Josh would never have defined them as difficult either. The happiness in their quiet moments together always seemed to balance out the challenges. They were happiest as a couple when they could shut out the rest of the world. Josh often wished they could do that more often, but he had to work and Nicolette…well, she was in a perpetual state of adjustment.

Now that they were in Verona, it seemed the adjustments Nicolette needed to make were greater than ever, and there honestly hadn’t been very many moments of happiness. Josh hoped his wife would make some friends or begin making the effort to find her own way in Verona. The weight of being responsible for her happiness had grown increasingly heavy because she was making no effort whatsoever. Six days alone might be just enough time to nudge Nicolette out of her funk, and Josh hoped he could come back to a happier and more relaxed home life.

The driver made his way through the last fifty kilometers to Siena. The first three hours had flown by in a blur of daydreams, reflections and thoughts. By the time they neared the hotel, Josh had decided to put the stresses of home aside and focus on the work and adventure ahead. Being a part of this film’s production team was a huge plus in his career and a tremendous opportunity to see and explore Italy. “I deserve to enjoy this a little bit,” Josh thought. “I’ve earned that much, whether my wife wants to enjoy it or not.”

***

Without thinking, Marcello tried to roll over in his hospital bed until the searing pain in his ribs reminded him it wasn’t a good idea. Borrowing against the profits of the vineyard had been a risky move, but he’d known that at the time. “Damn!” he muttered under his breath every time he thought about it, which only sent a lightning bolt of pain from his left side to the rest of this body.

He’d known the risk, but it was necessary. A few of the bold business moves he’d made in Venice hadn’t quite panned out the way he hoped, and he’d faced a horrible choice: disappoint his family in Venice or anger his wife’s family in
Bardolino
. Despite the potential consequences, Marcello had chosen to do whatever he could to calm his parents’ stress over the business. They were getting older, and excessive worries weren’t good for their health.

He’d been sure he could replace the money in the bank account before Carlotta’s father realized it was gone, but things didn’t work out that way. He’d gotten caught up in getting the tenants for his family’s apartment building signed and secured, and then there’d been his
relationship with Eva and the many gifts he’d sent to placate her over the summer. Before he’d known it, what was meant to be an unauthorized loan for two or three weeks had lingered unpaid for almost the entire summer. “If it weren’t for the old man’s lackadaisical accounting, I’d have never been tempted,” he murmured while pounding his fist on the bed.

The machine to his left began beeping. A plump nurse poked her head into the room,
then
walked over to look at the reading on the machine.
“You mustn’t excite yourself, Sig
nor Benedetto,” she admonished. “How will you ever get better if you don’t allow yourself to rest?” She strode out of the room, rolling her eyes and hoping for once he’d listen. This patient had been getting on their nerves since the first day, as were the well-dressed men that always seemed to hover outside his door.

Chapter 6

She’d spent an hour trying on summer dresses and choosing the right one. Then she styled her hair and put on makeup even though she could easily go without it and still be considered drop-dead gorgeous. “It’s only cappuccino with a new friend,” Nicolette reminded herself. But, after the first two weeks in Verona, even a simple cappuccino felt like a huge event.

Josh was away for the next six days in Siena; she knew she’d been a bit of a challenge those first days, and she was sure Josh was happy to get away. It was never Nicolette’s intention to be difficult or, as she knew his friends called her, high-maintenance. It had just been so hard to cope with life the last two years. Before she’d gotten clean, before Josh had convinced her to go to rehab, she’d always had something in her stash to calm her down when she felt stressed out. And there’d always been something else to boost her confidence and give her energy when she wanted to party all night long.

The drug use was casual, Nicolette liked to tell herself. To her, it was just a little boost here or there, like calling a good friend when you’re feeling down or getting a little wave of energy to make it through the day. Even though she’d admitted to being an addict in rehab, she never believed it to be true. She only said it because she had to. She snorted a little cocaine now and then to pick her up and popped a pill or two once in a while to help
herself
calm down. But it wasn’t a daily event, and she never felt desperate. In fact, she kind of liked it.

Josh had suspected her drug use for a while, but Nicolette had always skirted the issue because she knew he’d never understand. One day she’d gotten careless and left some cocaine in her purse, and he’d found it. At first, she was outraged that he’d been rifling through her things. But eventually she understood that he cared about her and loved her…truly loved her for who she was, not just because of her looks. It was then that she agreed to go to rehab, but she never told him about taking pills and felt she should keep that secret to herself.

After rehab, she’d continued with the meditation and yoga that had been an instrumental part of her treatment program. It made her feel serene, calm and focused…sort of
like
a combination of cocaine and downers. For the better part of a year, she’d practiced both for hours each day. Without the excitement of the Hollywood social scene, there wasn’t much for
Nicolette to do. She’d had some small film parts and had enjoyed many evenings out on the arm of some handsome actor while still living in Los Angeles but, other than that, she was a part of the social scene; that’s what she did. Once she and Josh moved to Napa Valley, there was nothing for her to do but meditate, practice yoga and rest on their deck.

Now she’d been uprooted yet again. She loved Josh and knew he was the best thing for her, but he demanded more change and adjustment from her than she was able to give. There was nothing peaceful about Verona. It wasn’t a busy, modern city like Los Angeles or Hollywood, but it was full of the buzz and energy of thousands of tourists and all the locals who were too busy to notice them. For Nicolette, the buzz was almost audible; even at night she couldn’t make the noise go away. She could feel the stress building in the pit of her stomach. She’d taken it out on Josh and felt bad about that. At least now she’d finally met someone, and maybe a new friendship would help her adjust.

Nicolette glanced at her watch. “Ten o’clock already; we were supposed to meet out front at 9:30.
Some friend!”
Disappointed, Nicolette looked toward the door, and then glanced toward the street in front of her. The thought of going back into the apartment was too boring to bear, and she simply couldn’t sit within those same four walls for another moment. Maybe it was time to venture out of the courtyard and see what was nearby. “Time to be brave,” she thought. “Josh will be so proud.”

***

The sun streamed through the window as the gentle breeze caressed her arm, nudging Carlisle awake. As she floated through the chasm between asleep and awake, she became coherent enough to remember her last thoughts and feelings before everything went black. “Where am I? What’s going on?” she struggled to remember with eyes still closed.

Her hand moved over the cotton sheets and up to her right where she felt the wrought-iron work of her four-poster bed. Somehow, she’d made it into bed last night. She was in Verona, Italy now…not Portland, Oregon and not Seattle, Washington. She was here; she was alive.

Sadness washed over her as she recalled how the repressed memories of Will and Anna’s deaths had assaulted her last night, no longer willing to sit quietly in the recesses of her mind. In an instant, her life, hopes and dreams had been taken away. For the past seven years she’d done everything possible to put the events of that day out of her mind, but she’d been unsuccessful. She’d buried her loving husband and her young daughter, so full of promise and life. She’d acknowledged that they were gone, but she just couldn’t face the fact that either of them was dead. For seven years, she’d run away from that truth by moving to a new home, burying herself in writing that was never completed and carrying on as if they’d simply gone away for a long, long trip.

But there would be no more running away. A tear squeezed out between her closed eyelids as she realized the truth had followed her 7,000 miles to Verona and would never leave her alone until she accepted it. The two loves of her life, her dreams, her sun and moon, her entire world came to a screeching halt the day their car crashed. The phone wasn’t going to ring any minute, letting Carlisle know that they were on their way home. They weren’t going to have
another baby someday, she would never teach Anna how to use makeup or do her hair, and she’d never help her daughter learn how to find a man as wonderful as Will.

She was done running away from the truth. Carlisle felt overwhelmingly sad and relieved at the same time. She cried tears of mourning, tears of goodbye and tears of relief at unloading a heavy burden. “I love you,” she whispered to her memories of Will and Anna. “I love you so much; nothing can ever change that.”