I hold my wife close as my body finally allows me to rest.
40
GRACE
There's a vase of fresh sunflowers next to me when I wake up.
"Did you sleep at all?" I ask, sitting up in bed.
"I slept like a baby," Dante says, putting his laptop away.
I narrow my eyes at him. He does seem more refreshed, though I doubt he slept like a 'baby'.
"Thank you for the flowers," I say, touching the yellow petals. Ever since I told him that sunflowers make me happy, he's been getting them for me every week. “But you promised you wouldn't work today."
"I was just waiting for you to wake up," he says. "Ida made breakfast."
I glance at my phone to see that it's ten o'clock in the morning.
He hands me a glass of water. I drink it, then take a quick shower before heading to the living room. Dante's sister is curled up by a sunlit window, reading a book. She looks like a literal angel. The golden sunlight forms this ethereal halo around her.
"Grace." She grins when she sees me. "Good morning."
She's been smiling more and more lately. It's truly amazing what the human spirit is capable of. It makes me think that we're made to thrive even after going through the worst.
"Good morning, Ida," I say, going over to give her a hug.
I've grown fond of her over the past few weeks. She's not just my sister-in-law; she's my friend, too.
"I made chocolate chip pancakes," she says. "Would you like some?"
“I’d love some,” I say.
After nights with Dante, I’m always starving when I wake up in the morning.
I've started to look at food differently. It's not just calories and grams of fat anymore. I'm starting to see it as fuel and sustenance.
I stopped mentally punishing myself for the way I looked. And for the first time in my life, I began to love my body for everything it did for me.
Ida places the moka pot over the stove. The scent of brewing coffee and fresh pancakes fills the kitchen.
“Can you believe that I convinced Dante to take a day off?” I say. "He hasn't stopped working since we returned to Italy.”
Ida pauses. Her back is to me, but I notice the way her body tightens.
She still doesn't like talking about what Dante does for work.
“That’s awesome,” she says. “What do you guys have planned for the day?”
"I was thinking the three of us could just spend it at the beach and then have dinner later?"
"That sounds fun," she says, smiling at me over her shoulder. "I can add to my shell collection."
She brings me a stack of chocolate chip pancakes.
I take a bite. “This is delicious, Ida. Thank you.”
The chunky chocolate chips make me think of Sarah. Nobody loved chocolate more than her. She left for a boarding school in Switzerland two weeks ago, where she’ll finish high school. She’ll be coming home for the holidays and summer break, but I write to her every week to check in.
