“You keeping up with your doctor’s appointments?” Aria asked her father.
“He's sneaking pastries again and you have to convince him to have some self-control, daughter.”
Aria and her dad just chuckled like they were keeping a secret.
They sat and caught up on the neighbors and friends back in Rome, laughing about the antics of the older ladies.
“And the restaurant. You said you’ve been busy.”
“I wish your dad would consider cutting his hours,” Maria said, her face showing her concern.
Waving away her worry, Aldo said, “If I stop working, what will I do with my time?”
“Could you hire someone to help out a few days a week?” Aria asked, noticing the fatigue he had probably been trying to hide.
“My cardiologist says to stay active. Work keeps me active. But your mom wants me to try yoga. What am I going to do, go to the gym in those tiny shorts?” he joked, causing Aria to laugh.
“No one wants to see that,” Maria deadpanned with narrowed eyes. “Okay, enough talk. Let’s get dinner started.”
When Maria headed for the kitchen, Aria gave her dad a side hug.
“Don't worry, Papa. I hid a few pieces of doctor approved dark chocolate for you when I knew you were coming. But just a few, okay? I want you to be around for a hundred more years.”
Delight skittered across his face. With a wink, he grabbed their suitcase and headed to the guest room.
While Aldo rested, Aria joined Maria in the kitchen. Aria started the homemade pasta and Maria got out the ingredients for the simple pesto. For the next hour, they cooked together, Maria sharing her recipe tips with Aria. Their conversation was interspersed with laughter and the familiarity of being together doing something they both loved.
“So, tell me what’s going on in your life, angel,” Maria said as grated the fresh parmesan cheese.
“It’s been busy at work, like I told you. But I’ve been getting out more. To the movies, dinner with the girls. You know,out,” Aria said not wanting to have the discussion twice.
She planned to tell them both after dinner.
“Joy is written on your face, daughter. I like this. Now that I’m seeing it for myself, my heart is lighter.”
“Iamhappy, Mama,” Aria answered as she dropped the fresh pasta into the boiling water.
Aldo sauntered into the kitchen, his hands rubbing together. “Smells amazing in here.”
“Perfect timing,” Aria said, cutting the focaccia, glad for the interruption. “Time to eat!”
Dinner was noisy and fun, and it made Aria grateful to have them with her. But she knew it was time to talk with them and was preparing for whatever would come.
“Why don’t you guys take your drinks into the living room. I’ll put these leftovers away and be right there.”
She laughed when she looked at the huge container of leftover pasta. Her mother insisted on cooking for a crowd. She always used the excuse, “You never know who will stop by.”
When Aria joined them, Maria was looking intently at something on her shelf near her decorative bottle collection. She pointed to the cobalt blue bowl with gold painted throughout it, and turned to look at Aria.
“I don’t remember this from our last trip. Is it new?”
Recognizing this might be her opportunity to bring Alex into the conversation, Aria explained about the bowl and the history of the Japanese legend.
“That's beautiful,” her dad said. “The bowl and the story.”
“Yes, it is. Actually, it was my friend Alex that took me to the class,” she said tentatively, looking between her parents who were eyeing her curiously.
“Oh, really? So, have you been seeing this friend Alex? I thought you said he was just here visiting his family,” Maria asked, when they were all seated.
