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I send back a heart emoji before stowing the phone in the pocket of my cardigan.
Glancing down at my baby bump, I whisper, “Let’s go, jelly bean.”
With a deep breath, I grab my suitcase handle, open the door, and step into the airport. No longer Rosaleen O’Leary but Rose Bennett.
11
Rose
October
Italy is a beautiful country.
I once joined Evelyn on a summer vacation to the country when we were sixteen. I was instantly enchanted with its miles of rolling hills, white sandy beaches, clear blue waters, and beautiful architecture. The culture was deeply steeped in art, family, music, and food, and reminded me of the Miami of my childhood. If I’m going to be anywhere, I’m glad it’s Italy.
The single-story home Evelyn arranged for me is a cute, modest house with a comfortable, open floor plan. Floor-to-ceiling windows run the length of the backside of the house, providing an amazing view of the gardens and the Adriatic Sea in the distance. Evelyn’s surprise was a beautiful nursery with everything I would ever need and more for my baby.
When I first arrived, one of my top priorities was setting up care with an OB-GYN. Seeing my baby and hearing their heartbeat for the first time had me in tears for days. Watching a tiny little blob grow into a baby with fingers and toes, a little nose, and a big personality was surreal.
Being a single mother never felt more pressing than the day my son was born. I made every decision that day alone with no idea if any of it was the right one. I want to be a good mother. I hope I will be. Because my son already won’t have his father, but he will have me, and I’ll shower him with twice the amount of love and affection to make up for it.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, I hear my son making his usual fussy morning noises from the baby monitor beside the bed. Sure enough, when I turn my head, he’s waving his little arms and kicking his legs in his crib on the small screen. I get up and dressed while he’s being relatively quiet before walking into his nursery.
“Good morning, Liam.”
At just a little over a month old, he’s starting to notice and focus on things more, and when he sees me, he lights up. I scoop him up, savoring the feel of his solid, warm body in my arms as I take a deep breath of his special baby smell.
Before he came, the loneliness was deep and overwhelming. I missed Grace and Evelyn so much. Contact with my sister was impossible, and I only heard from Evelyn once a month. Being watched by my dad and uncle meant she had to act like the worried best friend who knew nothing. It was hard on both of us, but those phone calls were my only tie to the life I left behind.
Unsurprisingly, Dad was livid when he learned that my disappearance was my plan. Not because he loved me. No. Because I’m a large payday that went missing. He tried everything he could to find me, but Evie is good at what she does. After some time, I quit looking over my shoulder when I went outside. I stopped jumping at every creak and sound in the house and finally slept through the night. Life became repetitive, but it was peaceful, quiet, and free, exactly as Evelyn had wished.
Liam is an incredibly good baby with an old soul. He rarely cries unless it’s for food, a clean diaper, or snuggles. He’s easily entertained and has the sweetest laugh and smile I’ve ever seen. Liam has Michael’s unique light hazel eyes and my red hair. I wasn’t sure at first, but as he’s grown older, I’m certain now. He’s the perfect blend of us, and the love I have for him is more than life itself. The very moment the doctor placed him in my arms, I knew my heart was no longer mine.
Once I’ve dressed and fed Liam, we spend the morning baking a batch of muffins I plan on taking to the local bakery later today. The nice older lady who runs the shop fell in love with my pumpkin cream cheese muffins and commissioned me to bake a few dozen a week to sell. Not that I need the money, given the large nest egg Evelyn provided, but it’s nice to do something.
While the muffins cool, Liam and I swing on the hammock outside. He falls into a milk coma, serenaded by the crashing sounds of distant waves and a full belly. As he naps, I take the chance to catch up on some reading, enjoying the brief escape from reality.
Once Liam wakes, I gather our things and the basket of fresh muffins and make the short drive into town.
“Ciao, bella signora,” Anette greets me when I step inside the small shop carrying the basket and Liam’s car seat.
“Ciao,” I say back.
My Italian is rusty but getting better the more I speak it. Anette is sweet, though, and takes pity on my poor American self as she likes to call me and switches to English.
“Thank you so much for bringing more. I sold out again this morning.”
I smile at the knowledge. “That’s great to hear. Must be the change in weather.”
“Sì.” Anette takes the basket and removes the muffins. “They go great with the fall flavors.”
Anette pours me a cup of the latest spice tea, and we share one of the muffins I brought in. She’s been a sweet grandma figure and a comfort when I otherwise feel alone. Also, it helps that Liam loves her. Anyone that baby likes is good in my book. Not that it’s hard to like him. The baby exudes charisma, much like his father.
My phone rings, and I see Evelyn’s name on the screen when I pull it out of the diaper bag. Panic instantly seizes me. She’s not due to call for another week. Something is off. I can feel it in the air, and the sensation sends an icy chill down my spine when I accept her call.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Rose! Thank God.” Evelyn’s frantic over the line. I stand and motion to Anette that I’m stepping outside. Liam’s so preoccupied with her silly noises that he won’t even notice I’m gone.
