Page 139 of Running from Drac
“What’s the catch?”
Her smile deepens. “There is no catch. When I look at you, I see me years ago. It would make me very happy to help you. All I ask is for companionship, maybe even help at the bakery, if you’re willing? I’ll pay you, of course, but not as much as I would someone I’m not hosting.”
It's something. Something I didn’t have when I checked out of the hotel and my wallet started producing bats and cobwebs.
My throat catches as I try to stop from sobbing.
“Save those tears for another day. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” I finally manage to say. “Your kindness is so unexpected.”
She grins. “If you think that’s unexpected, wait till you see my house.”
Her home is nestled on a hillside overlooking the sea. There are lemon trees in the yard and vines crawling up the stone walls like nature’s graffiti. Inside, it smells like basil and roses, and there’s a nature-like feel to the décor because everywhere you look there are plants and fresh herbs.
She grins when she sees my reaction. “Plants make me feel good,” she says with a smile. “They’re like children to me.”
“Do you have children?”
She shakes her head. “My body wouldn’t let me. I thought about adopting, but my heart wouldn’t let me. Now I just have my plants and old Oscar.”
A mangy-looking cat appears at her door. He looks like he’s seen some shit with the way his wide eyes stare up at me, his tan fur nothing but bald spots and patches along his back and head. There’s a chunk of his ear missing, and his tail seems shorter than it should be.
He yowls, and it comes out cankerous and annoyed.
“He’s a hungry little thing.”
“He’s… um…”
She laughs. “Deranged and slightly unhinged? I know. That’s why I love him. Reminds me of my first husband. That’s why I named him Oscar. It’s after the grumpiest man in all of Italy.”
“What happened to him?”
“He’s still alive, much to my dismay. He’s a bread hating, womanizer, with a bit of a bald spot. I just couldn’t stay married to someone who doesn’t love bread. As a baker that’s just blasphemy. I kicked his old behind to the curb the first timehe turned his nose up at my Italian loaf. The man had no taste whatsoever.”
The first laugh I’ve had in weeks escapes my lips, surprising me. “He cheated on you, and you were angrier about the bread?”
She winks. “You haven’t tried my Italian loaf yet. A woman is an easy thing to replace, but a good loaf of bread—” She lets the conversation die there, never finishing her sentence.
“Anyway, when you’re ready, you can tell me about the man you’re running from.”
“I’m not running from a man.”
She smiles. “Don’t lie. I may have just met you, but your eyes betray you. You still love him, and that’s what haunts you the most. It’s easier to run from what we love than it is to fight for it. That’s why most marriages fail. People just don’t fight hard enough for it.”
“I was never married.”
She examines my hand and her eyebrow raises.
I hide it instinctively, forgetting I still have my mother’s ring on my finger. He doesn’t get this one back. This one is mine.
“We never got that far. I left him before… honestly, it doesn’t really matter. He’s not worth thinking about right now.”
Nonna Etti laughs. “And yet it’s him that consumes your thoughts and holds onto your heart. Stay here as long as you like, but it’s not going to ease your pain. Until you face it head on, you’re always going to feel him right here.” She points to her heart.
It sucks that she’s right. There might be an ocean between us, but I can still feel Eddie like he’s right here. That I took a part of him with me that I’ll never be able to let go.
A whole month has passed since I left the States. Every day he calls, and every day I receive a new message. Not a single one has been listened to, and every text he sends is immediately deleted. I haven’t had the heart to block him yet, but I plan to, just not the way everyone expects.
