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“Would you like a coffee?” I ask, trying to fill the silence.
“Really making yourself at home,” she huffs, and I take a step back.
Okay, then.
As I make my way over to the machine, she calls out after me. “Black with one sugar, please.”
Exactly like my Nona. A painful twingetugs in my chest at the memory.
She starts rummaging through the cupboards and tosses an apron at my head.
“Here, put that on. I volunteered to bake cupcakes for the orphanage, and Luca’s kitchen is bigger than mine. I could use the help.”
A sadness washes over me, remembering cooking at home with my mom and Nona. How mom would let me lick the spoon behind Nona’s back. It was the best part.
“What’s Luca’s favorite cake?”
Opening one of the lower cupboards, she starts pulling out the mixing bowls. “Lemon drizzle. The recipe with the limoncello in, of course.”She stops and looks up at me. Her tanned cheeks pale.
Shit. I cringe as the realization settles on her face.
Chewing the inside of my lip, I wait for the look of disapproval from her. Her son can’t even have his beloved cake because of me.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, she winks. “I have an amazing recipe without it I’ve been wanting to try. Maybe next time?”
A smile forms on my lips. She isn’t judging me.
I stand and watch as she shuts the door and stands, pointing to the second bag on the counter. “There are some things in here from Luca. And Sienna gave me some books for you. Luca’s worried you’re getting bored.”
I look in the flowery duffel and I can’t help but smile. A big, pink hot water bottle, some rose oil bath salts and enough chocolate to last a month.
“Did he–”
“Yes, all requested from Luca himself. With instructions to hand deliver and make sure you were okay.”
I bite back a grin and dig out one of the Hershey bars and take a bite.
Mrs. Russo puts her hand on her hip and holds out her empty hand with a teasing smile. I chuckle and hand her a bar for herself.
“He’s learned. It’s the fastest way to make a woman smile,” she says, pointing the chocolate at me and winking.
I let out a sigh of relief. We’re getting somewhere.
* * *
By the timewe bake and drink Luca out of coffee, it’s dark outside. Mrs. Russo grabs her things to leave, and I walk her to the door.
“You take care of yourself, Rosa. You’re a good one.”Her warm hand rests on my arm before she steps off the concrete porch.
“It was nice to meet you, properly.”
“Tell that boy of mine I’ll be having words with him when he decides to come home. If he comes home this time.” She shakes her head and pushes her round framed glasses up her nose.
“I will.”The thought of Luca not coming back sends a cold shiver up my spine.
I close the door behind her as she slips into her car and drives off.
The giddy feeling of having someone to talk to fades, so I decide to dig out one of these dark gray books Sienna sent me.
