That’s why she instilled in me a deep-seated need for security. It was hard at times for her to keep things together for the two of us.
I had to make sure I didn’t follow in her footsteps. I needed to know myself, my own path, before I let anyone join me on it. I needed to have my shit figured out for myself, to be confident in my independence, before I opened my life and heart to anyone else.
Too bad my heart didn’t get that memo back in college and fell for the hot baseball player.
Sure, being Kai Yamaki’s girlfriend made me feel good. Safe and loved. It was easy to pretend I didn’tneedto have it all figured out, that we could just be together and in love. But the distance I forced between us when I went away pulled the wool from my eyes. And I realized my mom was right.
By deciding to stay in Italy, I knew I was going to break my heart, my mom’s, and Kai’s. But I also knew it was what I had to do, to find that inner security and stability.
Still, it took a very long time before I stopped crying into my pillow every night, wondering if I had made the wrong decision.
Now I know I didn’t. Meeting my large, loving Italian family showed me what I was missing. Being in the kitchen with my grandmother, learning the language through our mutual love of food and cooking, led me to a career that fueled my passion and gave me a future I could be proud of. If I hadn’t moved to Italy, that might never have happened.
“Let’s go inside and get you settled. If you want a nap, that’s fine, but I was hoping we could maybe order some takeout and just catch up tonight?” Mom threads her arm through mine as we walk to the front door.
“That sounds absolutely perfect,” I reply. And it really does. I decide to forgo the nap, hoping it’ll help me sleep better tonight. So, shortly after arriving, Mom and I are sitting down with a glass of wine, dinner ordered and on its way.
“How’s your grandmother?”
I smile over my wineglass, thinking fondly of my nonna. “She’s great. Feisty as always.”
Mom laughs. “That woman is going to outlive us all, I swear.”
The handful of visits Mom’s made to me in Italy over the years have been wonderful. I thought it might be awkward, her reuniting with my father, a man she met so long ago, but it wasn’t. Mostly because my dad’s wife is one of the most warm, welcoming women out there. She embraced my mom, thanking her for raising me. They became fast friends and any awkwardness was forgotten. I realize I’m lucky that way.
“And your dad?”
“Like you haven’t been talking to Luisa every week,” I tease.
“We don’t talk about your father, Belles. That would be weird.”
“Well, he’s fine.” I sip my wine and drop my head back against the couch. “He wants me to bring him back some maple syrup candies, can you believe it?”
Mom shudders, staring at me in horror. “Maple syrupcandy?”
“I know, right?” I laugh, picturing my big, burly dad popping one of the gross, artificially flavoured candies in his mouth. “Remember last time I visited you in Calgary and I bought that basket of Canadian treats to take back? There were a few in the bottom of it, and he absolutely loves them.”
“There’s no accounting for taste.” We both shake our head with a grin.
“God, I’ve missed you.” Mom holds her hands up. “I know, I know, I’ve said that a hundred times. Doesn’t make it any less true.”
I lean forward and place my hand on her leg. “I’ve missed you, too, Mom. It’s okay.”
Honestly, even if she has said it a hundred times, and even if she says it a hundred more, I won’t get annoyed. I’m glad I decided to come and stay for the next several months. I’m thrilled to have the time with my mom, but more importantly, this break will probably be my last for a while. Because when I go home, I plan on sitting down with Vito and his wife Carla and laying out a five-year plan for me to eventually become a partner and co-owner of the restaurant.
That’s my endgame, my one big dream.
And it’s all within reach.
Chapter two
Kai
“Ninety-one-point-two. C’mon, Yami, you got more than that.”
I turn so Coach doesn’t see my grimace. Fucking right I’ve got more than that. But I’ve been on this field in the sweltering Arizona heat for three hours already. Where was he when I was throwing ninety-three this morning?
Dan Montgomery, or Monty, as we all call him, jogs up to the mound and slaps my shoulder. “Hey bro, you got this. Don’t let him get inside your head.”
