Page 17 of Inevitable

“Dio mi hai sorpreso!” He shouts as he looks at me.

“Uhm…Parli inglese?” I ask.

He lets out a boisterous laugh that makes his belly literally shake. “You are quite terrible at Italian, no?” He asks in an extremely thick accent.

I laugh lightly and nod. “Si, my apologies.”

“No trouble. I am Luis. How can I help you?”

I shrug slightly embarrassed. “Hi Luis, my name is Ashlynn. I was actually hoping I could help you with something. I am bored and thought it might be fun.”

His eyes light up with excitement and he hurries around the corner and hands me an apron.

“Si si! Have you made zeppole’s?”

A soft smile crosses my face as I get lost in a memory.

8 years ago

“Come on sweet girl, these zeppoles are not going to make themselves,” Luciana’s soft voice rings through the kitchen.

Her accent is thick, but her tone is always warm. She is one of the kindest people I know. Every day she makes sure I learn something new in the kitchen. She always goes on about how a good woman should know her way around the kitchen to help provide for her family. I tell her that this is the 21st century and roles are not set in stone like that anymore, but she just tuts at me and shakes her head. There is no sense in arguing with Mama Mariano.

I get to work on making the dough for the zeppoles we are having for dessert since they are Luca’s favorite, and it is his birthday today. We laugh and tell each other about our day and stories that come to mind. My mother is often too busy at the office to spend a ton of quality time with me these days, so it is nice to have this maternal presence at home when my own cannot be here.

“Ah mio figlio.Si prega di portare fuori la spazzatura.” Luciana calls out over my shoulder.

I caught a couple of words. Enough to know she is speaking to Luca and asked him to do something.

“Sì mamma.” He replies striding toward the trash can under the sink as she pats his cheek in appreciation.

I look down and focus on the dough in front of me trying desperately to contain the smile that is fighting to break free. Anytime Luca enters a room this happens. I can’t help myself; he is so handsome and sweet. I peek a glance to find he is watching me out of the corner of his eye. Our gazes lock and his honey golden eyes shimmer as a small smile slips on his face. I quickly look away and try to focus back on my task.

After another moment I feel the air shift around me and Luca’s shoulder brushes against mine so gently I am sure no one else could tell, but I definitely can.

“Smells delicious,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.

I can’t suppress the shiver that runs across my skin at his words. He gives me one last glance over his shoulder as he strides out of the kitchen with the trash bag in hand and a smile on his face. I can’t help but mirror his smile.

When I turn back around, I see Luciana is staring at me with a raised brow and her arms crossed. I straighten my spine and turn my gaze back down to the ingredients in front of me. After a couple of seconds, I feel her gaze leave mine and I sag with relief. She is probably the most perceptive person I have ever met. I have no doubt that she sees right through me.

“Signorina?” Luis asks, snapping me out of my daydream.

“Sorry, yes I have made them. Do you use Luciana’s recipe?”

“Ah no, I was not lucky enough to know the woman though I have heard great things.” I smile sadly and nod. “Did you know her?” Luis questions curiously.

“Very well, a long time ago.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and pats my arm comfortingly. “I know her recipe, if you want to try it?” I offer.

He smiles and nods. “You know from memory?”

“Yeah, I am more than a pretty face Luis,” I playfully scold.

He lets out another full laugh and rambles some Italian under his breath with a smile. I find myself smiling too, genuinely, for the first time in what feels like a long time. Soon I am giving him directions for what we need as we spend the afternoon chatting lightly.

Later that night I lay in bed thinking about some of the good times I had with Luciana. All of the food she usually made was traditional comfort food. That woman could make a gourmet meal out of scraps. I have missed her a lot over the years. I had always hoped that I would see her again, especially after my mom passed away. To know she has been gone for years just like mom breaks my heart.

I haven’t seen Luca since he came and apologized for being an ass in a roundabout way. I am sure that was hard for him. I don’t think Mob Bosses make it a habit of apologizing to anyone. A knock comes at my door and Marisol walks in with a familiar looking bag, my purse. I spring up and reach for it instantly. I wonder if my phone is still in it. I have been completely isolated, and I am sure people are freaking out that I have just disappeared. She pulls it away for a moment.

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