Page 75 of The Singing Trees
Nonna set down the knife with great gusto. “It was cold.”
“Yeah? And? What did you talk about?”
Nonna twisted her head to Annalisa. “Enough of this. I have dinner to cook.”
Annalisa stared at her for a long time, craning her neck dramatically, until Nonna broke into a Nonna smile with her signature discretion. She buried it as quickly as possible.
Annalisa touched her own nose, a gesture of love between them. “That’s what I thought.” She held up the letter. “Thomas wrote. I’m going to go read it in my room.”
“You and your Thomas,” she heard Nonna say as she raced to the bedroom. Tearing it open, she read each word as if it were a kiss.
You know what I miss? French fries. And I miss Nonna’s meatballs. More than anything, though, I miss your smile.
She missed his too. She missed everything about him.
I’m safe and sound, by the way. Not that this is a walk in the park, but it could be worse. I am marking the days on a calendar I keep in my pocket. Though I won’t know my DEROS for a while, I’ll be home before the end of the year. Please tell me you’re painting again; I can’t bear the thought of you giving up.
Annalisa sketched Thomas a giant plate of pasta with meatballs, and she accompanied it with a long letter about what she’d been doing, helping Walt and painting prolifically.
She told him all about Walt and the shop and how she’d attempted to set Walt and Nonna up. As she relayed the story to him, she felt so much joy inside, and to her great surprise, she ended her note with:Maybe Sharon was right, that I need to do better at connecting with people. You might have told me something like that too one time.
After signing her name, she lifted the paper toward her face, but she stopped an inch away from sealing her letter with a kiss of plum lipstick. Connecting with Walt was one thing; committing to Thomas was quite another—and that was what such a gesture would mean. She couldn’t send him mixed signals, and she still had to choose her art over him if she was ever to master her craft. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if she should read any more of his letters as she reminded herself what was at stake. So much worse than losing him would be resenting him for destroying her dreams.
Chapter 27
PASTA ANDSAUCE
Walt was right about Annalisa being better than him at selling her paintings. She was clearing out a year’s worth of work, selling a piece a day at a time, even at higher prices. As word spread, other artists—some from her circles, others out of the blue—asked if she’d sell their paintings, too, for a commission, of course, and she thought it was a great idea.
Annalisa felt like a mini–Jackie Burton as Walt’s clock shop attracted customers strictly interested in the art on the walls. And between collecting old debts, selling art, and the increase in watch and clock sales due to foot traffic, March would be the most profitable month for the store in six years. She’d finally recovered from being fired and had proved she didn’t have to go back to Payton Mills, that she could continue the pursuit of her voice.
On March 19, she received Thomas’s second letter, and she found herself debating whether to even read it. Most important, the letter was verification that he was alive. Not a day had passed since she’d watched him drive away on that bus when she didn’t feel her worry for him. Maybe that was all she needed from this letter. Every rational part of her knew that he had crept back into her life like a burglar and that he was dangerous, and reading his words would only prolong the heartache.
She set the letter on the table and went into her room to paint. Proving her point, she felt distracted by the darn thing, as if it were taunting her, and she couldn’t tap into her muse on any level. Having taken a break from painting her strong women, she’d been working on a series of portraits from her imagination—modern-day men and women searching for belonging in the world. With his words waiting in the next room, she couldn’t focus at all.
Giving in, she dropped her brush into a cup of water and retrieved the envelope. Getting comfy on the couch, she dived into his words.
You know what I miss?he wrote this time.You.
Annalisa stopped and read the first line again. He seemed to have the ability to strike like a dart to the bull’s-eye of her heart.
I know we’re friends, and if that’s all we’ll ever be, then fine. I refuse to keep pretending like I don’t love you though. You are what is keeping me alive over here, and you’re the reason I want to come home.
She paused, knowing he’d reached the point of no return. She was either leading him with her correspondence, or she was officially pulling him.
I wanted to ask you something. I’ll understand if you can’t or don’t want to, but I’d like you to come see me. I have a week of leave in Hawaii starting May 24, and I’m getting a hotel room on Waikiki Beach. Come stay with me. Even if only as a friend, it would be so nice to spend some time together. By the way, I’m not mentioning it to my family, so let’s keep it between us.
She finished his letter, which included an address in DC that would get her response back to him faster if she chose to come. Setting theletter down, Annalisa sat back and closed her eyes, letting his request marinate. How nice it would be to set eyes on him, to touch him, to tell him that maybe she could make room for both him and her art. And...itwasHawaii. She saw them strolling the beach at sunset, hand in hand, laughing once again.
Reality hit her. Never once had she flown in her life, and she had no idea how much a ticket to Hawaii would cost. Money aside, could Walt handle things for a week if she did leave? Wait, was she really considering the idea? Getting on that plane would be another leap toward love, and the last time she’d done that, it hadn’t worked out so well. Who was to say this time couldn’t be different, though?
She had no idea what to do. Not until a little bit later that night. The highlight of Annalisa’s year—maybe even her life—had been that her efforts in matchmaking Walt and Nonna had paid off. As much as they’d tried to hide it, Walt had admitted that they spoke on the phone regularly and had seen each other a couple of times.
It just so happened that Nonna was in town when Annalisa received the letter from Thomas, and while Annalisa debated his invitation, Nonna was out with Walt having dinner. Thinking a walk might clear her head, she pulled on a jacket and scarf and went out into the early evening. She walked all over town, thinking the cold was good for her, distracting in a way. She dipped into a dive burger joint for dinner on her way home.
Meandering back along Congress Street, lost in her internal dilemmas, she noticed Walt and Nonna strolling ahead, hand in hand. Unable to resist, Annalisa watched them with a full heart.
The couple stopped under the curtain of Walt’s shop and stood very close, laughing with each other. To see both of those grumps laughing would have been enough to satisfy Annalisa, but then Walt planted a kiss on Nonna’s lips.
