These Foolish Things (18 page)

Angie held Liz out at arms’ length as Vinnie had done. Liz
looked back into a face that had grown more beautiful with time. Angie had been
a knockout in her twenties, but now, despite some wrinkles, added weight and
gray hairs, age had only softened her beauty, made it mortal. Vinnie said it
was the beauty of Angie’s heart that showed on her face.

Right now, Angie’s brown eyes examined Liz closely. “What’s
wrong? Why are you really here?” Angie’s eyes narrowed as she studied Liz’s
face. “You’re in love. Why do you look so miserable?”

Score one for Angie, thought Liz. “Who says I’m in love?” she
asked. “For all you know, I could just be getting over the flu.” Angie lightly
smacked Liz’s head. “Don’t lie. You’re in love. I can see it in your face and
it’s making you crazy.” Angie felt Liz’s face. “My God, you’re cold! Come.
Working will warm you right up. And you need soup.” Angie put her arm around
Liz and led her into the kitchen.

Liz sniffed deeply while removing her coat. Garlic, fresh
bread, onions, something sweet and spicy she couldn’t identify. All of those
individual aromas combined to work their calming magic on Liz’s brain. She was
feeling better by the minute. She spotted mascarpone cheese, egg yolks and lady
fingers on the center counter next to a bottle of brandy and a pot of steaming
coffee. Liz grinned. “Angie, you’re making tiramisu?” she asked innocently.

Angie smiled. She knew Liz so well. “No. You are. Someone
paid five hundred bucks for yours at auction; we’re gonna raise our price. Five
hundred bucks. Huh! Nobody ever paid me that kind of money and I taught you how
to make it. You get an apron and get busy. Earn your keep.” Angie turned back
to her enormous soup pot. “I made sausage and spinach soup.” Angie waved a
spoon at Liz. “You do well enough with the sweet and I may let you have some.”

Liz laughed while she tied on an apron. “You made it for me
and you know it.”

“Maybe I did, but you still have to earn it.”

Liz tested the heat of the espresso and put it back on a
burner to warm. “Ever thought about putting out a cookbook, Angie? God knows
you get enough requests for recipes.”

Angie shrugged as she examined a bowl of rising bread dough.
“When your first book gets published, Darling, we’ll talk about it. Stop
worrying so much about making everyone else happy. It’s not your job.”

As Liz stirred the espresso mix, Angie began questioning.

“So, Joe tells me you’ve finally fallen in love. I’m glad.
Where is he? When do we meet this man?”

Liz shrugged as she added brandy. “You probably don’t,
Angie. I have no idea where he is right now and he’s probably there with
someone else, anyway.” She tasted the mix. “Angie, could you ask Vinnie for
amaretto?”

Angie smiled triumphantly, “Ha! I have the great secret at
last!” She yelled to the front, “Vinnie! A bottle of amaretto, if you please!” She
turned back to Liz. “You’re not changing the subject, you know.” She stirred
her soup for a moment.

“This man of yours..”

“He’s not mine, Angie.”

“…is he married?” Angie was looking hard at Liz.

“No, Angie.” Just surrounded by more beautiful women.
Younger women.

“He’s not gay, is he?”

“No, Angie, he’s not married, not gay and not interested in
anything serious.” Liz shrugged again. “We’ve met a couple of times. He hasn’t
shown any interest.”

“Look at me.” Angie’s tone tolerated no disobedience. Liz
looked at her. She could feel Angie’s eyes looking into her soul. “You haven’t
slept with him.” It was a statement.

“No, Angie. I haven’t slept with him.”

Again, the eyes. “He kissed you?”

“Yes, Angie.” And I kissed him right back and I’d shave
thirty years off my life to do it again.

“You felt something big, didn’t you?” Liz nodded. “Something
like a big, slow pulse coming up from the center of the earth, yes?”

Again, Liz nodded.

“You got that feeling in your stomach, too, didn’t you? That
shiny gold knot?”

Liz couldn’t speak. She couldn’t look at Angie, either. She
just kept her eyes on her espresso mix and nodded again.

“And it’s still there.” Another statement. Another question.
“Lizabetta, don’t you know what that feeling is, that pulse? That’s two soul
mates recognizing each other. I got it when I met Vinnie and so did he. I still
have that knot in my stomach forty-five years later.” She was about to add
something else, but the swinging doors opened to admit Vinnie with the
amaretto. He brought the bottle to Liz and kissed her cheek. “Sorry to take so
long, Sweetheart, but a man came in looking for a phone book. You should have
been out there, Liz. He looked like your type. Almost handsome enough to be a
younger version of me.” They all laughed. “Here’s your amaretto, Sweetheart.”

Liz added amaretto and tasted again. Perfect. Vinnie watched
her dip lady fingers into the mix and line an enormous loaf pan with them.

“You know, Lizabetta, you add some kind of magic to that.” Liz
looked at him curiously. Vinnie continued, “It’s some kind of love potion. Tell
her, Angie” and he headed through the doors again.

“It’s true. You make tiramisu for us, people eat it and fall
in love. We’ve seen it happen again and again.” Angie smiled. “Quit working for
that asshole...”

“Angela! Watch your language!” Vinnie yelled from the other
side of the door.

Angie ignored him, “… and work down here full-time. More fun
than being a lawyer.”

“I quit yesterday morning.” Liz felt herself brace for
outrage and anger. Something that would have come from her long-dead parents.
Instead, Angie paused as she turned her bread dough onto a floured slab.

“Good for you. Go to someone who knows your worth.”

“Anthony!” Angie yelled for her younger son. “Tony’ll bring
your soup out front for you.” Angie gently nudged Liz out of the way. “I can
assemble this. You go eat. We’ll have customers, I promise. Bad weather needs
good pasta.”

Liz started to take off her apron. She was thoughtful as she
dried her hands on a towel.

Liz’s cell phone rang. She didn’t want to answer it. “Damn
it! Tony!”

A handsome young face popped through the door. “Hey, it’s
Liz! Great to see you!”

Liz cut him off, “Tony, be a doll, would you go grab my
phone?”

Liz didn’t have to ask twice. While she was quickly cleaning
her hands, she heard Tony say, “Hello?” and then, “He hung up.” Liz was drying
her hands. “Who hung up?”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t know. Some guy. Just said, ‘Sorry, I
think I have the wrong number’ and hung up.” He handed the phone to Liz.

“Thanks, anyway, Tone.” Liz gathered her belongings and
headed for her table at the back of the restaurant, directly under a
Tiffany-shaded lamp. Liz sat facing the wall to minimize distractions, not that
there would be a flood of customers mid-afternoon during the off-season with an
imminent snowstorm, but she didn’t want to be staring out the window. Tony
followed behind her with soup, a bottle of Pellegrino and crusty fresh bread.

“Here, Ma says you have to eat every bite of soup because
she’s gonna have you making gnocchi.” He put the steaming bowl in front of Liz.
“Hey, Liz, Joey says you got a big ass shiner playing softball. Some guy
knocked you ass over tits. That true?”

“Anthony! Language!” Angie’s voice came muffled but strong
through the doors.

“How does she know? I swear Ma has bionic hearing,” Tony
muttered, then yelled, “Sorry, Ma!”

Liz chuckled. It felt so good to be in the middle of this
family.

“Mama Angie knows all, hears all and sees all, especially if
you’re doing something she doesn’t like.” She sipped her Pellegrino. “The
shiner is old news, Joey and Rocco worked him over without asking and if Joey
wasn’t married, I’d tell him to open a beauty parlor. Christ, he’s a bigger
gossip than twelve old ladies in a circle. I’m surprised he can maintain client
confidentiality.”

From the kitchen, “Lizabetta! No blasphemy!”

“Sorry, Angie.” Liz looked at Tony. “Look, I’d rather not
talk about it. Just keep the Pellegrino coming, get Francis Albert on the
jukebox and leave me the hell alone for a while or I’ll tell your Mama about
the last time you came up to Boston and how much you spent on the strippers.”

“You got it.” Tony leaned over and kissed Liz on the cheek.
With a grin, he pointed to a sprig of mistletoe over her head, then retreated
as fast as he could.

Liz stared at the mistletoe, her mind going back to another
kiss under mistletoe. Tony’s had been sweet, but…she shook off the thought. Her
reason for being in Hyannis was to give herself time and space to get over her
obsession with Ty Hadley and get on with her quiet, undisturbed life. Let the
Cape work its healing magic and recharge her batteries. Before settling in to
write, Liz uttered a quick prayer.

“Please, God, either make him a real part of my life or get
him out of my head.” With that and Frank Sinatra singing “Night and Day” in the
background, Liz focused on her notepad and set to writing. Turning events in
her life into short stories or essays had helped her make sense of them and she
hoped to hell it would work this time.

The afternoon wore on. Tony periodically replaced her
Pellegrino, making comments or kissing Liz’s cheek and dodging swats. She was
so intent on her work that she barely noticed time passing. The jingle of the
front door registered only on the fringes of her consciousness.

Her phone rang. Curses be unto those who interrupt in
mid-thought. Liz groped for her phone.

“Millie, what part of ‘leave me alone’ didn’t you
understand? I don’t want to talk right now, okay?” she snapped.

“No, ‘leave me alone’ is pretty clear, but you never said it
to me,” replied Ty’s voice, with some amusement. “Since you haven’t been able
to return my calls, I thought I’d stop by your office and take you to lunch so
that we could talk, but you weren’t in your office. Where are you, Liz?”

Think fast, Liz. “Springfield. Dan sent me out here very
suddenly. I didn’t even know I was coming until last night.”

“Gee, that’s too bad. I’m heading down to Hyannis myself. I
thought you might like to join me. Excuse me, Liz.” She heard him speak to
someone. She couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like he was giving
orders.

Liz dropped her pen and buried her face in her free hand.

“Don’t see how I can. Have a good time.” Tony put a glass of
red wine in front of her. He had an odd expression and didn’t try kissing her.
“Just a minute, Ty.” Hand over mouthpiece. “Tony, what’s going on?”

“Pop thought you’d like a glass. I gotta go. I’ve got a
customer.” Very un-Tony.

Ty’s voice again. “You were saying?” Liz sighed. “I was
saying, I hope you have a good time in Hyannis and I’m very sorry, but I’m in
Springfield and I have to stay here. Snowstorm, you know.”

Ty laughed softly. “You know, I think you’re running from me
and I told you we were going to talk. Going all the way to Springfield, though.
That’s desperate. Can you recommend any good restaurants in Hyannis? I’m in the
mood for Italian.” Liz smiled in spite of her rising panic. She was going to
have to hide in her hotel room. She began to rub the back of her neck.

“Sorry, I don’t know the area that well. Know any good
massage therapists in Springfield? My neck and back are incredibly tense.”

“No, but then, you’re not in Springfield.” Only this time,
she didn’t hear Ty on the phone. She heard him. He was speaking inches away
from her right ear. She turned her head slowly and looked into his smiling
eyes.

“You can hang up now, Liz.” She obeyed as he pulled up a
chair next to hers. Liz noticed he wasn’t dressed for the office, but had on a
sport jacket and turtleneck under his expensive overcoat. After shedding the
outer layers, Ty sat down and hitched his chair even closer to Liz’s. This
undermined her careful self-control to a dangerous degree. So much for the
weekend to clear her mind. “What’s this?” Ty reached over to Liz’s notebook.
“You were pretty engrossed when I came in.” He pulled the book closer.

“I told you I wanted to be a writer when I grew up,” she
said. “I’m writing.”

Ty glanced over the pages. “I’d like you to read it to me
later. If your creative writing is as good as your legal writing, this ought to
be a real pleasure. Here,” he handed Liz the untouched glass of wine. “You look
like you could use some of this.”

Liz sipped some wine, willing her nerves to calm. She had
tried to ignore the thrill as Ty’s fingers touched hers when he passed her the
glass. She could feel the deep, slow vibration she had felt on the dance floor
and the knot in her stomach. And the fear.

Ty took the glass back from her and sipped some wine
himself, his eyes never left her face. “You’re hiding from me,” he stated. She
nodded.

Ty reached over and touched the nape of her neck. His
fingers stroked downward, probing the tension Liz was carrying there. He began
to knead her shoulder, massaging the tight muscles. His eyes were still on
hers, looking for the answer to some question she was afraid to acknowledge.

Liz could feel herself begin to shake and tried desperately
to will herself to stop.

“What brings you to Hyannis, Ty?” Her voice was
unintentionally husky.

“You.” He said it softly, his voice caressing the word.

The single word devastated Liz’s self-control. Without
really being aware of what she was doing, Liz reached up and covered Ty’s hand
with her. She knew he could feel the shaking.

“Feel that?” He nodded. “It happens every time I’m near you.
Kissing me the other night made it worse. I don’t want to eat, I can’t sleep
and I can’t get you off my mind.” She gently removed his hand from her
shoulder. “I came here to find peace. If you’re just looking to get laid, Ty,
then leave me alone. Please.” She released his hand.