“I’m canceling the whole thing—my whole trip. It’s just not worth it. And now I can spend more time at Maria’s. I can help her.” She felt like a huge weight had been lifted. “Even if I lose money on my cancelation, I don’t care. It just feels right.”
“Good for you.”
A wave of guilt rushed over her. “But I made you drive all this way and now it looks like another blizzard.”
He put the pickup in reverse and cautiously pulled back onto the street. “Like I told you, I needed to come. I have to stop by my old restaurant.” His wiper blades slid back and forth to keep the windshield clear.
She was skeptical. Was he just being nice? “Why did you need to gotoday?”
“The owners keep reminding me about some boxes I have in the storage room. I keep forgetting, and just this week they threatened to throw them out if I didn’t get them before the year’s end.”
“So you really needed to go specifically today?” she repeated herself.
“Well, today or someday between now and the thirty-first. Now seemed as good a time as ever. Kill two birds with one stone as my dad used to say.”
She was pretty sure he’d only come in order to help her, butshe appreciated it nonetheless. “Well, I’d love to see your old restaurant. Is it still called Vittorio’s?”
“No, I insisted on keeping the name for myself, along with the signage and menus and things. I have them stored in the barn at home. Just in case I ever restart things.”
“Do you want to?”
“Maybe someday. But not in the city. I think I’m done with that. Maybe in Miller’s Creek. A smaller version, anyway.”
“Maria is hoping you’ll do that. She said she’d be a regular patron.”
“Bless Maria.” He turned up the truck’s heater.
She nodded, still feeling a little teary over how close she’d come to leaving her aunt this evening. At least she had a few more days now. She felt God had a firm hand in all this and, as Victor navigated the snowy streets through town, she silently prayed a sincere thank-you for allowing her to come “home.” Oh, she knew Miller’s Creek wasn’t truly her home, but it would feel like it for a while longer. At least until Christmas.
8
Snow was falling hard by the time Victor parked in front of a brick building with lights glowing inside. “Is this Vittorio’s?” Carol asked.
“Well, like I mentioned, I kept my name so it’s no longer Vittorio’s.” He pointed to the neon “Paolo’s Pizzeria” sign in the front window that was only slightly obscured by snow. “It shouldn’t take me long to get my boxes. You can stay in the pickup if you want to keep warm and dry. I can leave the engine running and heater on.”
“How about if I help you?” she suggested. “I’d love to see inside the restaurant. It looks charming.”
“It used to be,” he said dourly.
Sensing this wasn’t easy for him, she didn’t comment. Instead, she got out and jogged behind him through the blowing snow. A bell tinkled as they entered, but the small restaurant had only one table of customers, a family of four who were sharing a pizza.
“Smells good,” she whispered to him.
“Yeah.” He barely nodded, then called out to the guy behind the counter. “I’m here for the boxes from Vittorio’s you’ve been storing for me.”
The man jerked his thumb over a shoulder. “In the office, by the door.”
She followed him down a dark hallway and into a messy room that slightly resembled an office. “That’s them.” Victor pointed to three storage boxes. “If you can manage one, I can get the other two.”
She thrust her arms out for him to set the box on. “So, how’s their pizza here?”
“I don’t really know.” He lifted the other two boxes with a grunt and pushed the door open with one foot.
“You’ve never even tried it?”
“No. I guess maybe I was treating it like sour grapes.” His smile was crooked.
“Well, I’m hungry, and it smells good. Plus it’s a long drive back to the farm.”
