Taking care of them is still a lot of work. My appreciation for moms grows more and more each day. But somehow I get it done. I try not to complain. I count my blessings. I feel important and useful and right, and that gets me through the tough days.
It doesn’t help that my parents aren’t being any more understanding about this whole thing, but at least their opinions don’t bother me so much. Though my dad remains stubborn in his ways and isn’t afraid to show it, my mother has started reaching out to me on her own. She’s called me a few times, speaking in a quiet voice that suggests she’s doing this in private, and has asked me about Italy—what it’s like, how the people are, the best places to go. I think she wants to come visit; she sounds so wistful when she asks me what I’m doing. If she brings it up one day, I will encourage her to come over and spread her wings a bit. I know she’s afraid to do it because of my father, but I just hope she learns to overcome that fear, as I have.
I’m trying to learn more Italian and stop being so shy and afraid when it comes to making friends here. I’ve been watching Alfonso and Annabella branch out and socialize, and I figure it’s about time I do the same. Though Signora Bagglia is a lot older, I’ve become friends with her and often drop by her restaurant for a bite to eat during lunch or just to say hello. The free food is nice, too. I’ve also made friends with Cara, a young single mom who moved to Capri a year ago. Her son, Emilio, is a year younger than Alfonso, but so far they get along great. Cara’s English is pretty good, too, and she’s been a major force in helping my Italian along. She also enjoys a few glasses of wine and a good gossip about the people on the island, which is fun to listen to, especially when she gets worked up and her hands start flying around like lethal weapons.
Because of people like Cara and Signora Bagglia, I don’t feel so alone anymore. I have a bit of extra help with the twins if I need it and I’ve stopped being afraid to ask. I also know I won’t depend on Derio too much, emotionally, when he returns home, and that’s crucial for me if I’m going to live here. I love him more and more each day, even though he’s not here, but I can’t let him be my everything. It’s not fair to him when he already has so many to support.
He’s supposed to come back tomorrow—Paolo is taking him on the ferry—so I’m racing around the house while the kids are at school, trying to get everything into tip-top shape. I’ve vacuumed, I’ve dusted, I’ve scrubbed, I’ve wiped, and I’ve cleaned. The whole villa sparkles, like a house of happy lemons. It at least smells fresh and citrusy; I’ve even picked a few from the lemon grove and placed them in bowls around the house.
Tonight, I plan on trying my hand at soufflé. I want everything to be perfect for his arrival, including me, which is why I’m shaving my legs, rubbing body scrub all over, and deep conditioning my hair so the curls are soft and shiny instead of the texture of steel wool. We haven’t been with each other for a long time, and while I’m sure he’s not in the best shape for me to fuck his brains out, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to makes his eyes roll back and his toes curl. He doesn’t even have to lift a finger.
I’m in the middle of flipping through a cookbook and looking for the perfect recipe, while wondering if I should paint my nails, when I hear the front door open. We don’t lock our doors here during the day, but still, no neighbors or friends that I know of would just barge in the house without knocking first.
“Hello?” I call out, getting off the stool. My first instinct is to grab the nearest knife. I have a lot of choices in this kitchen.
“Amber?” I hear a woman’s voice.
Felisa!
I round the corner and see her at the door, dragging a suitcase. Behind her comes Derio on crutches and behind him is Lorenzo, also with a suitcase and duffel bag.
“Oh my God,” I say, completely shocked to see Derio, as well as them. “Let me help you.” I run over to Felisa to take the suitcase but she bats my hand away.
“Tend to your amore,” she says, nudging me toward Derio. “Lorenzo and I can take care of ourselves.”
I’m smiling at Derio and he’s grinning at me—looking sexy as hell with a full-on beard—but I’m still looking between Felisa and Lorenzo in surprise as Lorenzo shuffles past me and joins Felisa in the living room. “You’re here early,” I say to Derio. “Can I touch you or does it hurt?”
“Please touch me,” Derio practically wails, his eyes glinting. “I am going crazy without you and the only ones who have touched me lately are doctors and the man from the hotel down the street who had too much fun getting me into his luggage cart.” He nods in the direction of Via Tragara.
I laugh before I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard. The minute my lips meet his it’s like the entire world, full of its worries and expectations and lies and truths and victories and losses, fades away. He tastes and feels like my dreams and I can’t help sighing and lean into him as my body shudders with relief.
Even on crutches, his body is strong and steady. I can hear his heart beating loudly in his chest and its rhythm brings me more peace. My love is home.
“You came home early,” I whisper.
“I couldn’t wait another minute,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “I needed to see you. Plus, the nurses were so tired of me talking about you all the time, showing them your picture. They told me if I don’t go home to see mia leonessa, they would personally put me on the boat and send me there. So I decided it was best for everyone’s health if I left.”