New Beginnings, page 18
She felt a pull to Verona, the likes of which she had never felt before. And it was because of Salvatore. People fell in love with people, not places, despite what anyone else believed. She loved Verona for the memories that both Salvatore and Edmondo had given her, and in getting to know Salvatore, she had fallen in love with the place. Her love for the city, came from a love of the man.
It was a kind of love. Not the wild, lustful and reckless type, but something more gentle, and steady, and calm. Like a boat on a gentle lake, bobbing on the surface, calm and steady. This was the type of love that blossomed in her heart.
“I’m not sure.”
“About what? The Dominican Republic or the cruise?”
“What’s wrong?” Faith asked. “There’s something different about you.” She squinted so that her eyes looked like dark raisins. “Did you even hear a word I said?”
Elsa tried to laugh it off. But the truth was, she was wondering what time it would be in Verona, and what Salvatore would be doing, and with game night tomorrow, she imagined the three of them—Salvatore, Luisa and Luigi—getting together without her. She missed them already.
It was insane, that a woman of her age was thinking and behaving like a love struck teenager.
It was time to break the news to her friend. “I won’t be here for long, this time.” She watched as Faith’s questioning gaze turned even more curious.
Faith had dunked her cookie into her coffee, and in the passing seconds, the soggy part of it broke off and plunked back into her cappuccino. She put the rest of the cookie down without eating it. “What do you mean you won’t be here for long?”
“I’m going back to Verona a month after the baby’s born. One of Nico’s colleagues is getting married.”
“You’re going back for the wedding of a work colleague?” Faith looked puzzled. “It seems like a long way to go for a wedding.”
“Gina’s a lovely girl. You could say she’s more a friend of the family, not just someone who works at the hotel. She asked me to come, and I want to be there for her. I don’t want to miss her wedding in any way.” Elsa smiled thinking about it, but a glance at her friend sitting across from her, brought her back to reality. It must be odd, she imagined, for Faith to listen to her plans and not understand.
What on earth would she make of the other reason that pulled Elsa back to Verona?
A few light kisses. Even with all the sightseeing, and the lunches and dinners, and plans for a summer vacation, on such things a future was not built.
“It sounds as if you barely know her. How much time did you spend at the hotel, if you got to know the employees so well?”
“She’s more than just an employee.” Elsa tried to explain it but she could see it wasn’t going to be easy. Without having been there, without having met the people at the Casa Adriana, Faith would not understand how much they had come to mean to Elsa.
She had never mentioned Edmondo to Faith and now she felt guilty that she hadn’t even shared that part of her life with her. Even when she had been devastated about his death, she had hidden her grief.
“Are you coming to the art class this week? Everyone keeps asking me when you’ll be back.”
Elsa smiled at the thought of it, remembering. “I painted and sketched in the grounds of the hotel.”
Faith put down her now empty coffee cup. “You spend a lot of time at the hotel,” she commented. “You told me you were staying with your daughter.”
“I am staying with Ava, but the gardens at the hotel are beautiful. Why don’t you come with me some time? Next summer, perhaps.” She clarified in case Faith was ready to pack her bags and come now. “I’m thinking of buying a small place over there.”
“You’ve moving to Verona?” Faith shrieked. Her face zoomed in closer, as if her neck had elongated at the shock news. “What is it with you and your girls? You go to Italy and end up living there—first Ava and now you.” She folded her arms. “Don’t tell me you’ve met someone?”
Elsa let out a nervous laugh. “Nobody.”
“Why are you moving, then?”
“It’s a whole different life out there. Peaceful and slow, full of countryside and trees. I’ve fallen in love with it.” It was a revelation that came to her the moment she said it.
“It must be something in the water,” Faith concluded.
“Come with me next summer,” Elsa urged, “and you can find out for yourself. I hope to have a place by then.”
Once she had met with her financial planner, and knew what she could afford, she planned to speak to Nico about it on her return and set the wheels in motion.
Faith gripped her cup of coffee with two hands. “I suppose you’ll put your place here up for sale next?”
“I’m not leaving Denver,” Elsa insisted. “I’ll travel between Verona and Denver as I see fit. It makes sense to have my own place because I can’t expect to stay at Ava and Nico’s all the time.
“You said they had a mansion.”
“They do. But that’s not the point.”
The point was she wanted her own home, somewhere where Salvatore would be able to come and visit, and where she could have Luisa and Luigi over for game nights or whenever she wanted.
A place of her own where she could come and go as she pleased without wondering what Ava or Nico might think, even though they never said anything. It was crazy that she longed for her own privacy and space, given that she was old enough to do as she pleased.
“What do your girls make of this?” asked Faith.
“I haven’t told them yet. I mean, Ava knows I’m going back for Gina’s wedding, but the rest, neither of them know. I’ll tell Rona and Carlos once the baby’s born.”
“Good luck with that.”
Chapter 31
After what had happened to Gina’s mother, Elsa was always fearful that anything could happen at any time, but at this age most of all. She didn’t want to put off visiting her friends any longer, because who was to say she would get another chance?
And so she made the two hour train journey to visit Vernon, after being reassured by his wife Maisy that it might be good for him if she came. But she had warned Elsa that it might be upsetting for her, as he was slowly slipping away from the man she had come to know.
Braced for the worst, she had set off. It had been years since they had last met, near the time of Rona’s wedding, when she had moved to Cherry Creek. Maisy, she had met only once, a short while after she and Vernon had gotten married and returned to Denver for a long weekend.
Elsa wasn’t so anxious as she was sad, for she didn’t know what to expect. Her worst fear was seeing a shell of the man she had depended on so much after Viktor’s death.
She rang the doorbell and then stepped back, forcing herself to take a deep breath, to prepare herself. Maisy opened the door.
“Elsa,” said Maisy, and greeted her warmly. “It’s been so long.”
“Hasn’t it?” She tried to smile, to feel at ease, but she couldn’t.
“Come in. So nice of you to come all this way.”
“I had to see him.”
She looked different from the woman Elsa had met all those years ago. A pinched expression hardened her features, and her eyes and mouth were smaller, and thinner than she remembered. She looked haggard, as if winter had set into her bones, and stayed there. The glowing, chirpy woman Vernon had brought with him that time, was no more.
Elsa understood. It was the look of a woman who knew hardship, whose world had suddenly imploded. She knew. Viktor had died, and was gone, vanishing from their lives completely. But Vernon was still here, in some capacity, albeit facing this cruel disease which was slowly erasing his mind and memories.
It had to be as hard, if not harder.
She clasped Maisy’s hand and listened as she spoke in hushed whispers, telling Elsa of the daily struggles she had with Vernon. Of how he seemed to have difficulty concentrating, of how she couldn’t have him drive the car alone because he often forgot where he was going. Of how he could get easily confused and depressed and anxious, and that she was worried sick about his rate of decline.
“Come and see him,” Maisy said, walking away and beckoning. “You might be lucky. He was in a good mood earlier.”
For a moment, her feet wouldn’t move. Suddenly, she was fearful, wanting to remember him as that agile and friendly, oh-so-helpful friend that Viktor had loved. She was afraid to see what life had done to him.
She followed Maisy into a room where Vernon was sitting with his feet up on an ottoman.
“Look who’s come to visit you today?” exclaimed Maisy, her voice chirpy again, as it had been once upon a time. She stepped out of the way and Elsa came forward.
He looked at her for a few seconds. “Elsa?” He took his feet off the ottoman and stood up slowly. “Elsa!”
Her heart burst into an explosion of joy. He remembered.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, as they embraced and kissed on both cheeks.
“I’ve come to see you,” she replied, looking at his face, taking in every feature as if this might be the last time she would ever have the chance to. “It’s so good to see you, Vernon.” She hugged him again, overcome by a profound sense of joy.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” said Maisy, stepping away.
“Sit down, sit down,” Vernon cried, moving the ottoman away and gesturing for Elsa to sit on the sofa beside him. He put her at ease, just as he always had.
He had lost some of his hair, and his face had hollowed, the skin had started to sag under his eyes and cheeks. Everything about him was less, as if he were a ghost of his former self. “How long has it been since we last met?”
“Too long. Almost nine years, I think.”
“Nine years,” he said, gravely, shaking his head. “Too long. But look at you now.” His eyes flickered with joy when he looked at her. “Is that a new hairstyle?”
She laughed, touching her hair. “I’m not sure. Probably. I would hate to think I had the same hairstyle for a decade.”
“You look well.”
They exchanged details about their children. She told him about Ava and Nico and their two children and how Ava had settled in Verona, and then told him about Rona and Carlos.
He spoke about his son, Daniel, whom she had never met.
“Why didn’t Viktor come?”
The smile slipped from her face. “Viktor?”
Vernon’s face puckered. “He called me, just the other day.”
Now she was really confused. “Who called you?”
“Viktor.”
“Viktor called you?” A long moment—suspended in time by cold shock—stretched out, as she stared at Vernon, fearful and unblinking.
“He wanted me to help him change a wheel,” replied Vernon, unfazed.
His words smacked into the fragile walls of her defenses. Walls she had put up in order to cherish and protect the decades old memories she had of the him. But even though she had heeded Maisy's words, had tried to hold strong, nothing had prepared her for this. She was frozen in her seat, and she didn’t know what to say or ask.
Maisy walked in then, and Elsa had a feeling that she hadn’t left in the first place, that she had been hovering outside the door all along.
“Would you like some iced tea, Elsa?”
Poor woman, she thought, seeing right through the smile on Maisy’s face. “No, thank you.”
“What about you, darling?” She asked Vernon. “How about I bring some iced tea for you?”
“I hate iced tea,” he said, his voice, sharp and angry. The kind of voice and tone Vernon would never have used. Elsa swallowed, glanced at Vernon then looked away, unable to face him. This stranger before her was not a man she recognized.
He stood up all of a sudden, as if he wasn’t sure where he was.
“It’s okay, darling.” Maisy moved over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “No iced tea. Sit down, and I’ll turn on the TV again.”
He made a face, an angry, ugly face, as if he hated being told what to do. But sit down he did. It was heartbreaking, to see him completely change before her eyes. Gone was the kind and friendly man she knew, and in his place stood a complete stranger.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Maisy turned on the TV.
“Who are you?” he asked, looking at Elsa. She opened her mouth to answer, but sheer shock stopped the words from forming. This wasn’t Vernon. He had slipped away. This was someone else.
“It’s Elsa,” Maisy told him, gently. Elsa was too shocked, too sad to reply. “You remember Elsa, don’t you?” But he said nothing, and looked away at the TV screen.
Maisy walked towards the door and beckoned for Elsa to follow her. She got up to go, but took a moment to take in a one final image of Vernon, imprinting it on her mind along with the other memories of the dear friend, and all the sights and sounds, and memories from two decades ago. A black hole of sadness swallowed her up, and she, feeling lost and bereft under its heaviness, blinked, as tears rolled down both cheeks.
“Goodbye, Vernon,” she said under her breath, as she stood in the doorway, taking her last look. Then, she turned hastily and left, following Maisy into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” she said, quickly wiping her eyes. “I had no idea.”
“He’s not usually this bad. I tried to warn you but I know it must come as a great shock to see him like this.”
Elsa put her arms around Maisy and hugged her, because she couldn’t help herself. “My heart goes out to you, I can see this is hard on you.”
“I love him, and I would do anything for him, but it’s hard, when he forgets my name, or who I am. I’m sorry you had to see him like this.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault or his. I needed to see him, with my own eyes, and I’m glad I came. I just wish …” Her words trailed away. “I wish we had made more of an effort to see one another.” Easy to say now, after all these years.
“We lived so far apart,” said Maisy. “It wasn’t easy. You had children, we had Daniel, and Vernon was always traveling so much. It’s too late for regret.”
Elsa contemplated Maisy’s words. “I know. It’s always too late, isn’t it?” She dabbed at her eyes again. “He was fine in the beginning and then he changed.”
“He seems to be getting worse, and quickly. The doctor said that a faster cognitive decline is usually the case, especially with early-onset Alzheimer’s.”
She had a stronger appreciation for this calm and thin woman who spent her time looking after him.
“What about Daniel? Does he come often?” She imagined that any help would be good, any sharing of the hardship of looking after Vernon.
“I can’t expect him to move here and look after his father. He has his own family.”
“You’re a brave woman.”
“You are, too,” replied Maisy. “Vernon spoke a lot of you, especially during the early days in Seattle when we first got together. He seemed torn that he had left you and the girls, he often worried how you would cope, being alone and all.” Maisy stopped right there, and Elsa felt as if there was more she wanted to say but didn’t.
“Vernon was Viktor’s friend, first, and after my husband died, he helped me a lot. But I had a wonderful circle of friends,” Elsa told her. “There were others; my neighbors Bert and Edie. They helped with the school runs when I had to get a job. We had no money coming, and Viktor had always done extra work at weekends, and now we were down to nothing. Even with the compensation from the accident, it still wasn’t enough, and we had to move to a small one-bedroomed apartment. Bert and Edie still insisted on doing the school runs.” She wiped her nose with a tissue. “Viktor had always been so adamant about being the breadwinner, about taking care of everything, that when he died, I knew almost nothing. It was like starting from scratch. It was so hard. I don’t think I could have gotten up on my own two feet if it wasn’t for my friends and my family. It was because of them that I survived.” She wanted Maisy to know it wasn’t all Vernon, that there had been others. “But Vernon moved away a year later and then he wrote and told me that he had met an amazing school teacher, and that he was going to marry her.” She smiled at Maisy.
“It seems like only yesterday,” said Maisy, inhaling sharply, as if she were pulling herself away from the memories. “He was fond of you and the girls, Elsa, and I am so happy that you came. I know he’s being grouchy now but—”
“He can’t help it,” said Elsa.
“No, he can’t, but at the beginning, for a few moments, he knew it was you, Elsa, and I needed him to have that.”
She swallowed a sob, feeling a moment of connection, with Maisy, with Vernon, a moment that would not come again.
“I love him,” said Maisy, her voice flat, as if she were stating a government fact, not making a declaration of love. Her lips, hard and tight, her eyes lackluster. “I'm going to see him through this, come hell or—” She turned away, sniffed and looked up, collecting herself in the blink of a second.
“I know you will,” said Elsa, holding the woman’s hand gently.
“He’s still there somewhere, beneath the fog. I still get glimpses of my Vernon, the man I fell in love with.” She smiled, and Elsa placed her hand on her arm, seeing through her stoic exterior. “Thank you for letting me come. Take care of yourself, Maisy. I’d like to call you, from time to time, if that’s okay, to see how you both are.”
“I would like that.”
It was only when she was waiting at one end of the train station for the train back to Denver, that she allowed herself to fall apart. And even then, it was controlled. For Elsa Ramirez did not fall apart often. But this afternoon, she had come close.
~ ~
Salvatore dipped his spoon into his bowl and took a mouthful. Cappelletti broth was another one of his favorite dishes.
“Whose phone is ringing?” asked Joseph, looking up. “Papa? It’s yours.”
