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I look over at Little Red again, and my heart begins to calm once more. The rise and fall of her chest acts like a meditation that soothes me. Leaning back in my chair, my eyes drift over her face, discovering something new, like the little freckle on her chin or the small dimple on one cheek. Her long black lashes as they rest on her cheekbones, or the way she hums softly as she hugs the pillow next to her.
No, there is no doubt that the safest place for her to be is here. With me. She is not going anywhere.
12
Annie
It has been two weeks since I first arrived at Dante’s place, and I have fallen into a very domesticated lifestyle. I play with Leo all day, and then I talk to Dante each night, with cooking lessons with Maria and sleep filling the spaces in between. Dante and I talk for hours, me wrapped up in his bed and him in his armchair under the cover of darkness. Our voices soft as I tell him stories of my life and he reciprocates with some of his own.
He tells me more about Italy, a place that I can tell he loves deeply because his face lights up every time he talks about it. It is a place that is vibrant in my mind, and I visualize what he tells me, letting my imagination go wild. Since I’m extremely unlikely to go in my lifetime, it now takes up part of my dreams that help me to sleep sounder.
Along with the dark man himself.
Having never had a boyfriend or a man spend time with me, talk with me, or look after me, I feel oddly at ease in his presence. I almost feel wanted, but I know that is a ridiculous schoolgirl fantasy. I like the way he watches me. The desire I have for him grows with every day that passes, so much so, I often find myself daydreaming about him.
Dante is not a boy; he is a fully fledged man, and a dangerous one at that, who probably has any woman he pleases, whenever he pleases. The sooner I let go of these feelings that are creeping up, the better. Although perhaps heartbreak is something else I should experience before my heart stops.
After sleeping in today, I make quick work of a shower and then decide to venture out to find the others.
“Bella!” Maria chimes upon seeing me walk into the kitchen. She is a lovely woman, very maternal with Leo, and she gives me a warm hug in greeting.
“Buongiorno!” I say happily, and I smile at seeing her eyes light up at me using Italian.
“Perfect, Bella. You’re starting to remember the language. Come va?” Maria asks, and since we have been greeting in Italian for the past couple of days, I recognize the words.
“I am doing well, Maria,” I reply, while looking over her shoulder.
“Come, come, I am cooking. I will show you the recipe for tonight’s dinner.” She drapes her arm over my back, escorting me farther into the kitchen while I spot Leo over at the breakfast bar.
“Here, I am making sugo for the parmigiana. Pass me that basil.” She begins to stir the large pot that is simmering on the stove. My eyes flick to Leo whose smile is a mile wide as he tucks into a bowl of Cheerios that Maria prepared for him, and he watches me as I take a cooking lesson.
Grabbing the green leafy herb, I walk back to her at the stove and wait for further instruction. This has been our daily ritual for the past week or so; she gets me in the kitchen and shows me how to cook. It’s now one of my favorite things.
“Wash the leaves, then pat them dry with the paper towel, carefully. We don’t want to bruise them,” she instructs as she continues to stir.
“What is in the pot?” I ask, getting busy with the basil.
“I sauteed onions in some oil, then added my chopped tomatoes…” She leans across to grab some sugar. “I am adding some sugar. Dante likes it on the sweet side, Bella. Remember that.” She looks at me with raised brows before giving me a wink. My heart pulses at Maria’s words, thoughts swirling that maybe I will get to make this dish for Dante myself in the near future. But I shake myself out of it.
“There, basil is ready,” I say proudly, and she looks over at my completed task with a surprised grin on her face.
“Good, Bella, very good,” she purrs. “Now, let’s put in the basil and let it simmer.” I pick up the leaves and drop them into the pot, watching her continue to stir the simmering sauce. The aroma in the kitchen is amazing as I take a deep breath in, causing me to nearly salivate.
“Smells delicious,” I say, smiling, as she looks at me with glee.
“Come, eat, Bella. You are too skinny, you need to eat. Then you can help me make the parmigiana.” She gestures to the kitchen bench where a large plate of pancakes is waiting for me.
Stepping away from the kitchen, I do as she asks and take a seat next to Leo at the breakfast bar, drenching my pancake in maple syrup. Leo and I both sit in silence as we eat and continue to watch Maria as she moves around the kitchen with ease, like she was born to do it. I decide then and there that I want to learn a new recipe from her every day that I am here. Already she has taught me way more than my mother ever did.
Leo and I pack away our dishes, and he runs off to his room to finish his Lego project while I take my new position in the kitchen next to Maria. Together we make the parmigiana for dinner. She goes through step by step, and I follow her every instruction. Once that is prepared, she teaches me the art of more Italian cooking as we attempt to make fresh pasta. Mine keeps breaking, but I improve throughout the afternoon.
“Dante likes fresh pasta, Bella. Fettuccine is his favorite,” she says like a proud mother.
“Well, I don’t plan on cooking for Dante. I think I will be able to leave soon. Besides, he has you,” I say to her with a small smile, hating the words as they drip from my mouth. But I need to be realistic and pause her thoughts of this being more than it is. Otherwise, I’ll get carried away along with her.
“Leave? Why do you leave?” she asks with a wave of her hands, stopping what she is doing. Looking right at me, confused, her eyes quiz me as a frown mars her face.
“Ahh… uhm… because this is not my home?” I offer to her with a slight shrug, not wanting to upset her. But my answer catches me off guard because it dawns on me then that I don’t have a home and have no idea where to go after I leave here.
