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“A husband?”
Lauren laughed to cover the swift ache in her chest. “I –,” she struggled to deny it. “I have – my parents.”
Yaya made a noise that was like a grumble. “I don’t understand people of your generation. It’s like falling in love and having a family is something to be avoided at all costs. Why is this?”
Lauren was tempted to tell the older woman that, on the contrary, she’d fallen in love and been married at only eighteen, that she’d adored her husband – he’d been her best friend for many, many years. She ached to tell Yaya that if illness hadn’t taken Thom away, they’d have had children by now – several, if Lauren had had her way. As an only child, she’d craved the kind of family and noise she’d seen other people enjoy. Lots of brothers and sisters and the sense of security and friendship that came from that.
“I can’t really say,” she murmured instead, her hands tightening momentarily on the handles of the wheelchair.
Villa Fortune was a beautiful old Tuscan country house, the kind of place Lauren had only ever seen in movies – it reminded her of the place Liv Tyler’s character had gone to stay in Stealing Beauty, with all the glorious outdoor spaces that the very idea of Tuscany conjured.
It retained much of its rustic charm with wide corridors, terracotta floors and enormous timber windows that framed postcard-worthy views in all directions, but hints of modernity and luxury were everywhere too. It was a home that spoke of luxury and comfort at the same time – a large house that was empty, new and old – a house of contradictions. Up until today, it had been quiet, quiet in a way that perturbed Lauren because it didn’t seem like its natural state.
And now, she understood why. As she wheeled Yaya’s chair towards the salon, a large room with enormous windows that showcased a particularly striking view of La montagna di Apollo, a dim noise grew to a cacophony of sounds – speech, laughter, glasses clinking, children squealing, toys being played with, doors being open and shut. Her heart was heavy with all that she’d lost and simultaneously full – because she instinctively understood what this would mean to Yaya. Sure enough, when she paused and leaned forward to see the older woman’s face, it was crinkled into a beautiful smile, her eyes misty.
“They’re here.”
It was a small sentence but spoke volumes. They’re here. Her family. Those for whom she’d lived her life.
“Yes.” Lauren crouched down, putting a hand on Yaya’s knee. “And I’m glad. Try your hardest to have fun without overdoing it.”
Yaya slid her gaze towards Lauren. “At my age, darling, there’s no sense playing it safe. Now help me out of this darned chair.”
Lauren hesitated for only a moment. She’d known this was coming. Yaya liked to walk as much as possible, and for short distances she was more than capable, but for longer journeys around the house, the chair made sense.
She pressed the brakes onto the chair then put an arm around Yaya’s reed-thin waist, supporting Yaya beneath her arm as she moved her feet into position, then half-lifting the older woman to standing. Paula’s breath was wheezy as she adjusted to her newly-vertical position and Lauren waited patiently, knowing this had to be at Yaya’s pace. A few moments later, Yaya nodded a little and tentatively moved a foot forward, then another, surprising Lauren with her confidence as she moved. At the door, she paused, breathing deeply again before taking a step into the room.
The greeting was overwhelming. At least, Lauren found it that way. She froze, forgetting for a moment that she was supporting a woman who was determined to move deeper into the space. But Yaya was astute and perceptive and she sensed Lauren’s hesitation, lifting her face towards Lauren and grinning. “It’s a lot the first time, I know.” Her eyes were moist again, as she turned back to observe the brood of Montebellos now descending on Yaya with breakneck pace. “My boys.”
Lauren’s heart was hammering her ribs and she didn’t know why, only she picked the lack of accuracy in Yaya’s description. After all, this wasn’t
just ‘her boys’, but the wives of three of them and various small people too. The boys though were something that drew Lauren’s attention. How could they not? Each pressed from a similar – but not the same – mould for tall, dark and handsome. Her eyes glanced across each, noting similarities in their features, their strength, dark hair, swarthy skin, if it weren’t for the obviously bespoke suits and tailoring, the hints of luxury that adorned their frames – tailor-made shoes, gold watches – she’d have cast them as a band of pirates, or sea Lords, sexy and conjured from the depths of the ocean to wreak havoc on land-lubbers. The thought brought a smile to her lips but it froze when her gaze glanced across – and was trapped by – Rafaello. Of all of them, he was the most – the most – mentally she stumbled, trying to find a word. Not handsome, because each was, in their own way, physically fascinating. But there was something about him that had her insides quivering, something about him that sent her pulse into overdrive and made her whole body zing with an awareness she resented and loathed.
She tried to look away but his eyes were speaking to her, reaching inside of her and asking questions, making promises, holding her captive as surely as if she’d been restrained physically. Her mouth felt dry, her lungs hurt with the effort of breathing.
A second more and Yaya was out of Lauren’s hands, a tall man she guessed to be Gabe coming forward and putting an arm around her, dragging Lauren’s attention from Rafaello finally as the man said in a deep voice, “I’ve got her.”
Lauren hovered nearby, but it became increasingly difficult as more and more members of the Montebello family crowded to Yaya. Alessia broke away from the group, joining Lauren on the outskirts.
Her smile was friendly, despite the fact they’d met only twice. “It’s overwhelming, I know.”
“I’m not used to large families,” Lauren explained, reading between the lines that her face must have shown she was stricken.
“No, nor was I.” Alessia grinned, gesturing to the bar. “Would you like something to drink? Chinotto? Limonata?”
“I’m fine.” Her eyes sought Rafaello, her stomach squeezing with disappointment to realise he wasn’t looking at her now. All his attention was caught by his niece, lifting Cara into his arms as he approached Yaya. Something tightened inside of Lauren, an ache she would have said she was used to but that still had the power to catch her unawares from time to time. “Once Yaya is settled, I’ll leave her to your care.”
“You don’t have to run off. There’s heaps of food, and these lunches are always a lot of fun.”
Fun. Lauren pushed the idea far, far away. “No, thank you.” She winced at how the words came out, hearing the tightness in them, the lack of civility. “Sorry,” she softened the rejection. “I prefer to keep some boundaries in place while I work.”
Alessia’s expression was sympathetic. “I can imagine that’s very important in your line of work.”
Professional respect bound them. “And yours?”
“I suppose so, though I don’t practice much these days.” She ran her hand over her slightly-rounded stomach. “Just a couple of days a week for now, and only in the small local practice.”
“I imagine you have your hands full.”
