William cleared his throat from emotion and residual ozone. “Didn’t read it. I was finally ready, and then it burned. Last night in the fire.”
Teresa removed her hand from his and rested it on her cheek. She spoke under her breath in rapid-fire Italian. He couldn’t keep up with it all, but she did use the term “idiota” along with his name multiple times, so he got the idea.
Finally, she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them. When she blinked them open, she spoke English again. “She was too weak, your mother. So, I write the letter for her. She told me what to say.”
William couldn’t breathe for a moment. “You know what it said?”
Teresa leaned forward against the table. “She is sorry for the words the last time you talk, and she is proud of the man you become. She say, she leaves you time to prepare before you run her company. Your father, he never wants to be in broadcasting. This is her family company, her dream. She hopes when you are ready you could be successful with Crestone, and your father, he can do the things he wants to do. He loves the boats with the sails. What do you call them?”
“Sailboats?” William asked.
“No, the other, the cat-a-something?”
“Catamaran?”
She gave a quick nod. “Yes. He loves them. We move to the ocean so he can sail. Your mother, she made a plan so he can do this.”
William scooted his cup away, unable to speak. The years of worry that had rotted inside were now exposed. “Why did he fight so hard against me?”
“Your father, he is a hard man. You miss her funeral, our wedding. He loves you, but worries you aren’t ready. He sees now. You are. Your mother, she trusted you. She loved you. Your father sees this, too, and he lets go now.” Teresa wiped her tears on a handkerchief embroidered with poppies.
“Thank you,” he rasped, and another round of coughing started.
“Something else is wrong,” Teresa announced when he caught his breath.
Lucy.
Teresa didn’t miss much. He had forgotten that about her.
“Lucy’s leaving.”
“That girl I met? Where is she going?”
“Yeah. She has another job offer. She’s taking it. I messed up. It’s done between us.” He gripped the handle on the mug.
“You love her. I see this when you are together.”
“She’s still leaving.”
“When you love someone, you come back to them. She is young, you are young…you don’t know this about life yet.”
“That’s not how the world works, Teresa.” His head started to throb in earnest, and not from the fire.
“He turns thirty, thinks he knows everything,” she said to no one in particular. Then she said directly to him, “You trust me before. When you were a child. Trust me on this. You apologize, and you prove your love. If she loves you back, she’ll return.” Teresa raised an eyebrow at him. “Come to dinner with your father and me. No more excuses.”
She stood and raised her arms with a little wave for him to hug her. He did. And he didn’t let go.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.
“You need red wine for that cough.” She gripped his shoulders and looked up at him. “And soak some sage leaves in the hot water, add some honey. It helps, too.”
“Wine and sage. Got it.”
“And dinner. You come to dinner.”
“Wine, sage, and dinner. Okay.” He squeezed her hand.
When she smiled, it hit him straight at his heart. He’d missed her. Missed that smile.
