“She’s Riccardo’s mother,” Albert explained. “She has an idea about how everything is supposed to go. You should have seen the engagement party. It was decadent! To say the least. I paid for all of it, of course. And I saw the receipt for the wedding dress, because, I must say, I was the one who had to pay for that, too.”
Estelle’s ears rang. “You’re kidding.”
Albert laughed. “When my last divorce went through and I considered coming back to Rome, I never imagined I’d be launched into such a mess. Valeria and her husband Tony have been spending, spending, spending the old family money. When I first arrived, they asked for a loan or two. And then, it was all about the wedding, and then it was about this restaurant. Coleman, I think is what your granddaughter was calling it. Ican’t believe it didn’t occur to me that you were related. I mean, you’re Estelle Coleman! I know that better than anyone.”
“There are other Colemans,” Estelle said.
“Yes, but Rachelle looks just like your other granddaughter,” Albert said. “Darcy, wasn’t it? I spoke to her at length in New York City. They have similarities.”
“They’re very close,” Estelle said.
“Yes, well. In any case, Valeria came to me and told me that there was a burned-out restaurant they had their eye on. They wanted to buy it, rebuild it, and give it to Riccardo so he could be a head chef somewhere. They wanted him to have all the accolades, and for me to be a silent partner behind him. Riccardo is a very good cook. This is something I know for a fact. But he’s also very lazy. I’ve learned, now, that he was the sous chef for Rachelle at Coleman. She gave him the gig?”
“I don’t know anything more than you,” Estelle said. She bowed her head. “Do you think your family…” She palmed the back of her neck. What was she trying to ask?
“Do I think that they burned it down to make space for Riccardo? To end Rachelle’s career?” Albert asked and laughed. “I thought of that, too. I don’t know if we’ll ever know. But really, I don’t think so. They’re not very organized. But they’re opportunists. They knew about the restaurant’s closure and the prime real estate. They knew about my deep pockets. So they asked me to act. And because I’m a sucker, I acted. And it looks to me that I’ve broken Rachelle’s heart.”
Albert went on to describe the dynamics in his family: how women were generally expected to remain at home while the men went out to celebrate their intellect and skills. “Rachelle having a restaurant and working with Riccardo wouldn’t have worked for them at all,” Albert said grimly. “I can’t imagine how Riccardo explained the situation to them. He must have known that they would freak out.”
“Here comes my conspiracy theories again,” Estelle said, raising her glass.
Albert leaned back. Their plates, glowing between them, were scraped clean, and they were pleasantly stuffed and happy with wine.
“What would you do?” Estelle asked. “If you were me.”
“I’d ask her to come home with me,” Albert said without hesitation. “I’d ask her to come back to Nantucket and build her life and her restaurant there.”
“You’d really ask her to leave her fiancé?” Estelle touched her chest. “What kind of romance writer would I be if I asked my granddaughter to leave the love of her life behind in Rome?”
“Riccardo isn’t the love of Rachelle’s life,” Albert said sadly.
“And how do you know that?”
Albert considered this, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I saw her eyes at the engagement party. She looked like she was drowning. You don’t look like that when you’re in love.”
Estelle marveled at how much he knew about life and about love. But before she could respond, he reached across the table and touched her hand. “I’ve learned a lot from your books,” he said. “I don’t know if I knew much about love before I picked up one of your stories. Now, look at me. I’m a sap.”
“Being a sap is worth it,” Estelle said.
“It’s certainly better than the alternative,” Albert affirmed. “I’d rather feel as much as I can than nothing at all.”
After dinner, Albert and Estelle walked to the river and rested on a nearby bench, listening to the sounds of the city behind them. Vespas buzzed like flies. Estelle yearned to put her head on Albert’s shoulder. “I’m going to help her,” Estelle said instead. “I’m going to give her the money to start her own restaurant on Nantucket.”
Albert turned to smile at her. “Look at us,” he said. “We’re the old suckers of the family.”
Estelle laughed and swatted him. “You can’t take money with you. Roland worked hard his entire life. He made buckets of money. I don’t think that matters to him, now.”
Albert’s face dimmed the slightest bit. Estelle wondered if he was thinking about his ex-wives, about the marriages he’d let slip through the cracks because he’d given his life to his work. “I’m guessing you’ll leave Rome sooner rather than later,” he said.
“The book tour stops here,” she said. “I’ll have to be patient with Rachelle. Maybe she won’t agree to come back with me immediately? But I won’t leave without her.”
Albert nodded. He looked pensive.
“You really won’t be back in the United States anytime soon?” Estelle felt embarrassed to ask. But how could she stop herself?
“I never know where I’ll be,” Albert said. “But the truth is, I have to focus on family matters here in Rome. I have to pull Valeria’s family out of this dark cloud, or else they’ll lose everything.”
It meant that Estelle wouldn’t be seeing Albert: not in Rome, not in Nantucket, not in the near future. Her heart cracked at the edges.
