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Her guilt deepened as she took it, thanking him. “I’m sorry we didn’t do this earlier,” she said.
He reached out his hand and covered hers. “There is nothing to be sorry for. I understand.”
She nodded and took a sip, stunned by its strength. She hadn’t had an espresso since she’d left Italy. She needed to put something in her stomach to face the rest of it.
She rose and headed toward one of the cabinets. “Can I get you any breakfast? There’s eggs, bread, or some cereal here, if you want it.”
“No, thank you. I had a biscotti I bought at the same place I got the espresso.”
“Oh, of course.” She stared at the array of cereals and saw the big canister of Quaker Oats at the end. She’d had oatmeal a few times when she first arrived and her father was still eating regular food. It had been his breakfast of choice in the fall and winter. She reached for the canister, ignoring the rows of nutritional drink boxes that were lined up on the bottom shelf. It had been a week since the funeral, and they were still there. She just hadn’t been able to do those mundane tasks she knew were there, just hanging over her.
She put the recommended amount of oats in a pot and added milk. She would make it by the old-fashioned method, on the stove, with milk, dumping a handful of raisins into it as she stirred. She could feel Giancarlo’s eyes on her while she swirled the wooden spoon around the pot in a figure eight movement. It irritated her for some reason, and she knew it shouldn’t. He’d been supportive and understanding in his way, since his arrival. He’d said nothing when she’d left their bed the first night after his funeral and found her way to her old bed, Max sleeping on the floor next to her, two lost souls. Max had been following her around ever since, and she found it reassuring and comforting. Odd that she preferred his company to Giancarlo, but there it was.
When the oatmeal was done, she spooned it into a bowl, doused it in maple syrup and resumed her seat. Giancarlo gave her a curious look, but said nothing and resumed scrolling on his phone. A moment later he put it down.
“I’ve been checking flights,” he said, quietly.
She looked up at him as he searched her face.
“It is time, Katerina. We must go home soon. Already there are things that I need to attend to. I cannot put it off any longer. Not to mention the wedding. There’s much to be done for it. It will be here before we know it.”
She stared at him, all words vanished from her mind. “The house,” she said finally. “There’s too much to do. Max. I can’t leave Max.” Her thoughts were fragmented, half formed.
“Surely Tom could handle the sale of the house. Or, if you like, I can arrange for a company to clear it out. And then I’ll have someone handle the sale. It can be done quickly, without any effort.” It may have been the look of surprise and panic on her face that caused him to add, “Or I could arrange to rent it out, put everything in storage for a while, until you and Tom are ready to sell it.”
She shook her head back and forth both in denial and in confusion. She could no more imagine renting her childhood home to anyone than she could think they would ever sell it. It was where she grew up. It held so much of her mother and father. And Max. How would Max cope?
“Max,” she said. “We couldn’t do that to Max.”
“Max? The dog?” His disbelief at her words was evident in his tone. “Surely Max will be fine living with Tom.”
She shook her head again, knowing he didn’t understand. How could he, when she didn’t even understand what her own feelings were?
“I’ll have to talk to Tom. It’s for the both of us to decide.” It wasn’t Giancarlo’s place. These unspoken words hung in the air.
Giancarlo squeezed her hand. “Katerina, I am only trying to help. I know that you are grieving, and I want to make it as easy as possible for you.”
The guilt descended on her like a heavy weight, knowing that she should apologize. Kate knew that his manner of helping was to take action. Solve problems. Make a plan. She was being awful to him, and she didn’t know why, except that she didn’t want his plans, his actions, right now.
Her hand still in the grip of Giancarlo’s, she felt the stone of her engagement ring bite into the finger next to it. She withdrew her hand to ease it and the stone glinted in the morning light.
“Giancarlo, I-I think you should go back to Italy on your own. I know you have put off so much of your business for my sake and I’m grateful, but I can’t go just now. There is a lot that must be done. A lot to decide. And I’m not quite ready for any of it. I don’t even know what Tom’s thinking. All I know is that for now, I need to be here.”
Giancarlo stared at her, his dismay written all over his face. “Katerina.Tesoro.I know you are upset. I know you haven’t slept well, and that you are filled with grief. And it’s for that reason I want to take care of you. To take you home where I can help you best. Here, it is too filled with memories. Back in Rome you will find it easier to become your old self again. Trust me.”
Her old self. She studied his handsome face, the dark, chocolate eyes, sensuous mouth, fondly. She reached across to him and touched his arm.
“You are a good man, Giancarlo. And I know that it’s what you feel is best for me, but for now, I know I need to be here.” She looked at the ring on her finger and twisted it off, handing it out to him. “And for now, I can’t think about a wedding, let alone making decisions about arranging it. I can’t think beyond today, except to know for now I have to be here.”
Giancarlo looked at her, a shocked expression on his face. “What? No, Katerina. No. Don’t be hasty. Staying here for now doesn’t mean that we can’t be married in April.”
Kate shook her head slowly. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to hold you to an engagement when I don’t even know when a wedding would happen. Giancarlo, I don’t know where I am anymore. Right now, I just feel afloat, drifting around, and the only thing that’s anchoring me in any way is this house. And Max and Tom.”
He closed her fingers over the ring, shaking his head. “No, no Katerina. I understand things are difficult for you, but it’s not the time for hasty decisions. Keep the ring, please, and come home with me. We’ll leave things as they are, come back again in January, in preparation for the exhibition.”
The exhibition. She hadn’t thought about the exhibition since her father died. She wasn’t even certain she could create anything, let alone pieces worthy of an exhibition. She looked away, taking a few shaky breaths.
“I don’t know if I can do the exhibition, Giancarlo.”
