Francesca
Iheard Anna go downstairs an hour ago.Stefan followed shortly after that.
I thought about going to help make breakfast.But then I decided to stay put for a few reasons.
I had more than my share of wine last night.So, my head wasn't great.Also, Stefan's bed was so soft and comfortable—and it smelled like him—that it was difficult to leave.
All those things added to the fact that I figured Stefan, and his mother would want some alone time—without the “new girl” around.
And I wanted to give them that.
So, I stayed in bed and lounged.Then I got up and showered, did my hair and makeup, picked out something I hoped would be appropriate to wear—and finally headed downstairs.
Halfway down, I could smell bacon cooking.
And when I wandered into the kitchen, Stefan was leaning against the counter, drinking what looked like a cappuccino in a small cup.He looked like he could be a model for one of those high-class men's magazines.
Anna had a bunch of pots and pans on the huge stove with various things on the go.She and Stefan were speaking Italian to each other.
My heart squeezed at the scene.
A mother and her son just chatting comfortably in the kitchen before breakfast.
“Ah, Francesca.Good morning.How did you sleep?”Anna asked and then ordered Stefan around.“Get your wife a cappuccino, too.”
Stefan walked around the huge island and came up to me.“Good morning.I hope I didn't wake you too early.”He hugged me with one arm, still holding the cup in his other hand.
“You didn't wake me,” I told him the truth and lifted up on my tiptoes to kiss him.
He surprised me by whispering quietly against my lips, “I missed you last night.”
I smiled and kissed him.“I missed you, too,” I whispered.
“Do you like cappuccino?”
I bit my lip.Because I didn't want to offend anyone.But I really didn't like cappuccino.“Um,” I started saying, but then Anna interrupted.
“You'll get used to it, Francesca.”She pointed a spatula at Stefan.“Add a little more milk and sugar until she gets a taste for it.”
I smiled and took Stefan's cup from him and stole a sip.
“Hmm, it's not bitter like the ones back home.”
Anna scoffed and shook her head.“That stuff in your country is not real cappuccino.For that, you have to come here.You can't get this kind of quality anywhere else.”
I shrugged and kept Stefan's cup.“You have a point.”
I kept sipping as Anna continued cooking and talking about this and that.
Stefan would chime in, too.I found it all very—wholesome.And calming.To see a parent-child relationship that was actually—healthy—kind of blew my mind.
“Here we are talking only about our side of the family.What about you, Francesca?Where did you grow up?What do your parents do?”
I stilled with the cappuccino cup against my lips.
Stefan cut in and began speaking to his mother in Italian.
Anna's eyes darted to mine.“Ah, I see.Well, we start how we start.But it's how we end that matters.”She gave me a small smile and winked at me.Then she completely changed the topic.Thank goodness.
