Page 77 of True North

He rests back on his knees, hands shaking as they come to rest on his lap. Mama is by his side immediately, hauling her love to his feet. I clean up the mess as she sits him down at a table in the next room. I hear her soft words. Even though I don’t understand them, I can read the tone, the love that laces them. The tenderness and concern.

They are too old for this.

They can’t give it up.

I place the colander in the sink and mop the floor to a shine. An idea hits me as I swipe the head of the mop from tile to tile. I bite my lip. It’s a crazy thought. Definitely a leap for me, and possibly not even an option for Mama and Papa.

Leaning the mop on the counter, I wring my hands through my apron. Mulling the idea over, I approach the table they sit at.

They both look exhausted.

“Mama, can I talk to you about something?” I ask softly.

Papa pulls the chair out beside him, and I sit. Mama folds her hands, one over the other, on the table in front of her.

“Do you have plans for the restaurant? I mean for the future?” The words come out in a rush. My heart hammers in my chest.

They exchange a look before the old lady’s face turns to me. “What did you have in mind, Louisa?”

Not bella.

Not bambina.

Shit.

I crossed a line.

Nerves rack my body as a weight descends, hunting out the last of my air.

Papa tilts his head, brows lowering. “You can tell us,mia cara. As much as we love this place, we understand it will not be ours forever. Is that what you mean, huh?”

I nod lightly.

“I mean, I’m not your daughter. I don’t even work here. But I had this thought...”

“She had a thought,mon amore, now I am intrigued.” Mama’s face is hilarious.

Her amusement, the adoration filling her eyes, lightens the ache behind my breastbone a little.

Laying my palms flat on the table, I look at them both before saying, “If I work here every night, learn every recipe and the business side of things, would there be a chance you would sell the restaurant to me somewhere in the future?”

I hold my breath the instant the last word passes my lips. My gaze alternates between the two people who have felt like my own parents since day one. The silence ratchets up the tension.

It’s a stupid idea.

I mean, they probably want to hand it over to some relative of theirs. I’m not even Italian, for goodness’ sake. Loving a cuisine doesn’t make you a master of it. I am such an idiot. Heat flushes my face.

Mama rises from her seat. Her cool hands cup my face, and I look up at her. My heart is doing its best to break through its confines.

I force a breath in.

A breath out.

“Is that what you want? To be here, for who knows how long? You don’t have other plans?” Her words are soft, her eyes now laced with concern.

I know I have been indecisive the last few months. My plans have been anywhere else but grounded, but this place, this food. These people. They are solidifying in my heart. For the first time since my big dreams were shot to hell, I’m excited about something.Sureabout something.

“Yes. It is.”

---