But I’m not their mother either, though it’s beginning to feel like it. And not in a good way. Because as close as I have gotten to them, there’s always this constant reminder that they aren’t mine. They had wonderful, successful parents and I’m getting paid to take care of them. If you took away the financial aspect . . . well, it’s a pickle. Do I really want to give up my whole life to take care of someone else’s kids, no matter how I feel about them?
I honestly don’t know. But I’m asking myself that question more and more these days, especially when Derio is gone and I’m in the big house all alone with them.
September ushers in a week of fog that wraps around the whole island and doesn’t seem to let go. It’s wonderful at first—the temperature is cooler, the sun isn’t in your eyes, and there are fewer tourists on the streets. But it overstays its welcome and becomes claustrophobic.
Derio has been gone for three days at a famous racetrack in Tuscany but he’s supposed to arrive back here sometime in the early evening. I’ve prepared one of the dishes we learned in our cooking class, roast chicken with olives, and it looks like it’s turning out beautifully. Though I’m wearing a dress and light cardigan, underneath I’m wearing a racy bra-and-panties set I picked up yesterday at an end-of-season sale at Prada. I want to welcome him home in style. This week, of all the weeks, has been the hardest, and though I’ve been texting him, it sometimes takes him forever to respond. I love him so much but it feels like the bond we share is slowly fraying as we spend more time apart.
I can’t let that happen. And sexy lingerie is always a good Band-Aid.
“When is Derio coming? I’m hungry,” Alfonso grumbles as he sits down at the table, staring at the empty plate.
“He’ll be here any minute,” I tell him. “Where is your sister?”
“She’s on her iPad, talking to Gia.”
The kids have started school again which has helped me out a bit, having them occupied during the day. Annabella has become good friends with Gia, though I forbid her from using any Internet chat devices to talk to her friends. Call me old-fashioned but I just don’t think she’s old enough for that kind of communication yet.
Of course, Alfonso is bitter that she’s made a friend and that’s why he’s tattling on her.
“You wait here,” I tell him and then pop my head around the staircase. “Annabella!” I yell. “No Internet, remember? Put it away and come down here!”
Alfonso has a smug smile on his face and I shake my finger at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did.”
He mouths, What? in mock surprise just as my cell phone rings.
It’s Derio.
“Hey,” I answer happily.
“Amber,” he says and he doesn’t sound as happy as I am. “I am in Naples. It is too foggy for the ferries to run. I am sorry but I won’t be coming home tonight.”
I can hear people talking to him in the background. “Really?”
“Yes, the ferries aren’t running anymore. You can check. I came here early just in case but they aren’t sailing until tomorrow, if the fog clears.”
My heart sinks in my stomach like a stone. I can’t believe how disappointed I feel. “Oh.”
“I am so sorry,” he says.
“I miss you. I made a special dinner and everything,” I tell him, struggling to hide the hurt in my voice. I know it’s not his fault that it’s foggy but I can’t rationalize my disappointment.
“I miss you, too,” he says. “I love you and I wish I could be there. You know this.”
“I know,” I repeat despondently. The talking in the background gets louder. “Who is that?” I ask.
“Paolo and Andre. They drove me here,” he explains. “Paolo lives outside Naples, I will stay with him tonight.”
Sure, you get to stay with your friends tonight, but what about me? I think. Now I sound as bitter as Alfonso.
“Well, I’ll take pictures of the dinner for you and you can pretend that you ate it,” I tell him.
“Amber, please. This is not my fault.”
“No, of course not,” I say. “I’ve got to go, your brother and sister are starving. See you tomorrow.” And then I hang up the phone.
Alfonso is frowning at me. “He isn’t coming?”
I sigh and shake my head. “No.”
Annabella comes into the kitchen. “Where is Derio?”
“Not coming,” Alfonso says loudly. “He doesn’t care about us anymore.”
I fold my arms. “You guys, that just isn’t true. He loves you.”
“But you’re upset,” Alfonso says. “So why can we not be upset?”
“You’re right,” I tell them. “Be upset. But he still loves you.”
“And he still loves you, yes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I mumble. I pick up my phone and decide to text Shay.
Hey, sorry I never showed up at the bar the other night. Derio is gone all the time and I have the kids. Do you want to come over after your shift? I can save some dinner for you.
I wait and take the chicken out of the oven. It does smell and look divine, the skin a gorgeous crispy brown, the olives plump and juicy. I take a picture of it with my phone to show Derio later and get a reply text from Shay.
Not working tonight. They hired someone else to replace me. I can come over now? I’ll bring the wine.