A Portrait of Emily Price by Katherine Reay

Author:Katherine Reay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2016-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The next morning I made sure I was awake to accompany Ben downstairs to breakfast. One, I didn’t want to be rude again. Two, I didn’t want to face Donata alone. I even wondered whether I could accompany Ben to work, each and every day.

“You are up and dressed early.” Lucio was already seated at the huge farm table with a book and an espresso. “You just missed Mama. She is out in the garden.”

“That may be best.” Ben pulled out a chair for me. “I need to go to Coccocino. I did not like the mess I found yesterday.”

Lucio laid down his book. “That is my fault.”

“I should not have left. Six weeks was too much.”

“You thought I was there and I didn’t tell you otherwise. And Francesca? She’s never worked in the restaurant before. It was unfair to put her in that position.” Lucio held up a hand. “But time is racing fast now; you needed that trip.”

“Papa.” Ben reached across the table and squeezed his father’s hand.

“Not unusual at eighty-three, Benito, but I didn’t want to believe. It is what it is.” Lucio scrunched his eyes shut as if putting a stopper in his emotions. “I am sorry about last night too. I can’t believe I slipped. I never told Mama that Joseph lives near Maria and Vito or about Piccolo. That was my fault too. ”

I sat back, remembering the evening. The family, so large we were spread across the dining room, kitchen, and patio to eat, was loud, boisterous, and fun—until I heard Lucio call across the table.

“Joseph said Piccolo is twice as busy since your work, Benito. You have the magic touch, you and Emily.”

“What’s Piccolo?” someone asked in English.

I was so delighted to understand the question; I jumped in without thinking. “Ben’s Aunt Maria and Uncle Vito own a wonderful restaurant in Atlanta. Joseph took me there my first night and already Ben had revamped the menu, but together, we—” I stopped, finally noting the absence of all noise and movement across the three rooms.

My eyes shot around the dining room. Every face stone-still. I glanced at Ben. He watched Donata. I glanced at Lucio. He watched his plate.

After a few seconds Lucio looked up and whispered, “Donata . . .”

She raised a hand to him and looked to Ben. “I thought you worked on your pizza at Joseph’s home. You went to see your brother. That is what you told me. Maria lives there? She owns a restaurant and knows Joseph? She knows my son? How?” She turned to Lucio. “And this does not shock you?”

“No. Joseph contacted Maria years ago. From Naples. I didn’t know he went to Atlanta because she was there until . . . until I visited.”

“Egli fa questo a male di me.” Donata spoke quietly.

Lucio reached for her hand. “I don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. I choose to believe he is finding his way back. To family.”

“And now you?” She faced Ben.

Ben’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

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