Summer in Sorrento Page 5

  Taking a deep breath of the sea air and closing her eyes, Maia listened for the sounds that floated up from the valley beneath.

  When she opened her eyes again she shrugged. “I’m glad I remember though. Even with Jim gone. It’s the little things like that that pepper my thoughts. They help keep him alive to me.”

  The pair sat in silence for a moment and when Jacob finally spoke, his statement caught her unawares.

  “You asked me a question earlier, at dinner, about the way I felt toward my father. You asked me if I was sure I wanted to feel that way.”

  Maia shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s not my place ...”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s what brought me out here. I needed to think,” Jacob said evenly. “But can I ask you a question?” She nodded her approval. “Have you ever had to try to forgive someone for a lifetime of unhappiness?”

  Maia tilted her head. “Are you unhappy though? You don’t seem that way to me.”

  Jacob tucked his feet up closer to his body and wrapped his arms around his legs. “No, I’m not unhappy. I have everything I could want in life—great career, money to buy whatever I want, companionship if I want it, friends. And quite honestly, if it were just about me, I probably wouldn’t give him another thought. But it’s my mom. It’s about her. She spent the majority of the prime years of her life unhappy, overworked, caring for two children alone. I remember her crying at night when she thought Adriana and I were asleep. I remember her stressing over money. I guess that’s what I find unforgivable.”

  It was an honest answer, Maia thought. But she also believed there was something out of kilter with his line of thinking.

  “What about your mother? What does she think of him?”

  Jacob sighed. “That’s what I don’t get. When Adriana was pressuring me to come over here. Mom told me I should come too. I mean, why? I told her if it was so important that I come here, then why didn’t she come with me? To watch the old man die, to get that closure. She said that closure occurred for her when she left Italy. That she didn’t need to mourn him again.”

  Maia smiled understanding what Jacob was missing. “Your mother sounds like a very wise woman.”

  “How so?” he asked, looking at her and forgetting the view of Naples.

  “It sounds to me like your mother finished mourning for her relationship with your father years ago. And what you might have interpreted as her dealing with a broken heart might really just have been a woman who was doing her best to handle the stresses of making a new life for herself after the plans that she thought were set in stone crumbled before her eyes. What you might have thought were unhappiness and regret and loneliness, could very well have been something different.”

  Jacob furrowed his brow. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve been through it,” Maia answered simply. Thinking of the painful time immediately after Jim’s passing, she took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry. “I had a great love in my life. And no Jim didn’t leave me, but after he died, I knew that there was nothing I could do to bring him back. I could wish on a star all night every night, but that wouldn’t change a thing about my situation. But what I could do is make a new life for myself, decide how I could make myself happy in this new reality. There have been nights where I have lain awake crying because of stress. How was I going to keep this place? What was I going to do when the savings account ran out? What happens next? I’m only in my forties - prime years of my life. And I’m all alone,” Maia said. “And there have been times where I have felt mad at Jim. It was irrational, I know. After all, he went to the doctor, he never had any health problems. That heart attack wasn’t his fault. But I have carried on, because I had to. No, I don’t have to support children but I didn’t want to lose this place.” She motioned in the direction of the farmhouse. “That was Jim’s dream and Jim’s baby—and it became mine. The heart is resilient Jacob, I think your mother is proof of that. She made her choices. You shouldn’t fight her battles for her—she has done that already.”

  “So you think she wasn’t crying over my father? All of those years.”

  Maia shrugged. “I’m sure she did her share of crying over him—tell me, does your mother have anyone in her life now? Anyone special?”

  Jacob nodded. “Yes, she sees a nice man. His name is Peter. He’s a widower. They’ve been seeing each other for seven years or so. But she has no interest in getting married—Peter’s asked her many times.”

  Grinning, Maia said, “I don’t think you should worry about your mom’s happiness—she sounds like she knows what she wants and who she is, although you are a good son to be concerned. I think you should focus on your own feelings about your father, and not project your worries over your mother into it. What happens if you allow this grudge to fester? Let me tell you. He dies. And whatever sins he committed in his life, whatever bad judgment or bad choices he made, that all dies with him. If you are religious, then you have your own beliefs over what happens after that. If you’re not religious, his life becomes dust. But Jacob, you get to live. And you appear pretty healthy, you probably have a good sixty years in you still. And that hate, those bad feelings you carry? That festers and grows and soon overpowers you. It becomes part of you—and then, well, maybe you aren’t any better than your father. But he’s gone—and you’re walking the earth with blackness inside that threatens the very happiness you could achieve in your life. Just forgive your father, Jacob. You don’t have to profess your love to him. You don’t have to cry by his bedside. But forgive. And let those bad feelings die when he does.”

  Jacob was silent, and he put his head in his hands and covered his eyes. Maia didn’t think he was crying, but he was definitely working over her words in his mind.

  “Just think about it,” she said, putting a comforting hand on his back. She then stood up and prepared to take her leave, she was pretty sure Jacob needed to be alone for a bit. “Life’s too short. You can’t change the past, but you can decide how you want to live in the future. Your father has no power over you—unless you give it to him.”

  8

  Maia got up early the next morning— practically rising with the sun—determined to get a jumpstart on the day. She had a to-do list that felt a mile long as her tasks had seemingly multiplied. Not only did she have to take care of the normal everyday chores around the house, but she had to now also make sure that her guests were happy and well taken care of.

  She exited the house and headed directly to the roadside produce stand to check some stock in order to not only let Camilla know what they needed, but also begin canning some olives and picking some lemons herself. She was thankful that the traffic to the stand the day before had been light, there was no way she could have kept up with everything if a different scenario had been presented.

  As she finished making her notes, she exited the small booth and stood in the road in front of it, inspecting its appearance.

  “I really think I need to ask Giorgio to put another coat of paint on it,” she commented to herself before turning her attention to the azalea bushes that surrounded the small structure. “And those are getting overgrown too. My work is never done,” she sighed.

  Deciding at once that there was no time like the present, she headed to the garden shed before returning with a pair of pruning shears and a basket. If one thing was for certain, very little went to waste around this house. What flowers she cut off the bushes would end up decorating the interior in fragrant bouquets.

  “Nice flowers,” said a voice from behind her. “What are they?”

  Startled, Maia turned around quickly to find Hal watching her work.

  “Oh, Hal, it’s you. Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” She noticed that she was holding up her shears defensively as if ready to defend herself. Realising it was only Lori’s husband, she lowered them.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he smiled kindly. “My apologies. I was just
out wandering around and I didn’t realise anyone else was up yet.”

  “Ah, an early riser then,” Maia smiled. “And these are azaleas to answer your question.” She turned back to her work. “Do you mind running back to the shed that’s just over there and getting me another basket? There’s one just inside the door.”

  Hal agreed and did as he was asked. When he returned a moment later with the empty basket, he helpfully moved the full basket of azaleas out of Maia’s way.

  “Are these going somewhere?” he inquired.

  “Yes, in the house. I’ll make some bouquets. No sense wasting these. They’re too pretty.”

  A beat of silence passed between the pair before Maia spoke again. “So Lori is still sleeping then?”

  “Yes she’s um, a bit tired,” Hal stuttered. Maia had the immediate flashback of overhearing the couple arguing the day before.

  “So do you both have plans today?” she inquired, hoping Hal’s answer would be yes, for Lori’s sake alone. The woman seemed at the end of her rope.

  But Hal shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know. Truthfully, she has plans, there are things that she wants to do and what not, but I really don’t know why I’m here,” he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t say that my wife and I are really getting along right now.”

  Maia tilted her head and put her pruning shears down for a moment, her attention turned fully to Hal.

  “Lori and I talked a bit yesterday afternoon, while you were napping I believe, and I gathered that,” she admitted. “I told her that all marriages go through rough patches. I really think it’s just about figuring out how to work through some of those times.”

  Hal crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the lemon stand. “Yeah, I know,” he said sadly. “And maybe I was hoping that just being in a different place, away from home, would be an instant fix. You know, like a vacation high of sorts? But if anything, she seems unhappier.”

  Maia nodded as Hal continued.

  “You know the thing is, we both have spent so much of our time consumed with our careers, and I don’t care what she says, she is just as committed to hers as I am. Having kids was never a priority for us, and we met at a time when we were both older, knew what we wanted out of life, had the means to do things. But then I guess, something changed. Most days I feel like we live separate lives. Like we are married, and live together and go out to dinner, and do all the things that married couples do, but exist in two completely separate universes. We might be talking over breakfast, but our minds are in two separate places, already going about our day. That’s how it feels to me.”

  Maia considered Hal’s statement, and then took in his appearance. Yes, at that moment, he was well turned out, in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, but he looked tired. Maia wondered if Lori noticed that—the fatigue in his eyes and the lines on his forehead. It was clear that Hal understood Lori was unhappy, he just wasn’t sure about what to do about it.

  “You look like you could use some coffee. Why don’t you come into the house? I had a pot brewing before I came out here.”

  Hal agreed and helped Maia carry one of the overflowing baskets full of azaleas. Once they reached the kitchen, she took his load before grabbing a mug and pouring him a cup of coffee. Settling him in at the kitchen table, she began pulling vases from the kitchen cabinets—she needed to get these flowers in water.

  Hal sipped his coffee and nodded his head appreciatively. “That’s good. Thank you.” She murmured a “you’re welcome” to him. “You know, I love my wife. I really do. Please don’t get me wrong there, no matter what she told you.”

  “Oh I think she knows that you love her,” Maia said, hoping her words were true. “I think you guys just might be in a slump. That’s all. You just have to make a bit of effort, change things around, do something different. I think the two of you have to remember how to be a couple again. If you are on different wavelengths, maybe it’s time to start crossing your wires again,” she smiled, hoping that Hal didn’t think she was making some sort of sexual innuendo there.

  Hal tapped his fingers on the kitchen table. “So, what do you propose? I mean, I’m a man, you have to talk to me like I’m five—or so my wife thinks.”

  Maia barked a laugh as she finished arranging the flowers in one vase. “Well Lori said yesterday she wanted to go to some trattoria you’d been to before? And she was also interested in a bike ride. What’s stopping you from doing that?”

  Hal shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I guess there is something in me that feels like situations like that, going on a bike ride just because you are on vacation are contrived. We would never do that at home. That’s just not us.”

  Biting her lip, Maia mumbled, “Hmm, I see.” She remembered what Lori had said the day before about how Hal used to be spontaneous—she wondered what happened to that sense of adventure.

  Life, apparently.

  She took the vase of flowers that she was working on and placed it on the sideboard in the kitchen, taking a moment to admire it before she spoke again. “But isn’t that some of the point for escaping from the day to day? To do something out of the ordinary? It’s called a ‘holiday’ because it is, it’s a break from your normal life. On a holiday you don’t worry about the air conditioning going on the blink—because you are too busy looking for your next adventure to care.”

  Hal grimaced. “I was only trying to help with that.”

  “And I appreciate it. But now’s the time to not worry about the mechanical function of this place—and it is time to worry about your wife and what’s happening out there.” She pointed out the window. “Apparently, the two of you fell in love with this place and each other, before. Why don’t you do it again?”

  Offering another shrug, Hal stayed silent and pondered this.

  Maia took her mug of coffee and sat down. “You know when Jim, my husband and I, lived in Ireland, before we came here, all we did was work, work, work. I was a graphic designer, I worked in a busy company in Dublin. Jim worked in finance. He had always talked about wanting to move here when he retired.” She laughed at the memory. “I remember at first thinking he was just spouting off big dreams. It was only after I saw the brochures laid out all over this exact same table,” she motioned to the wood under their coffee cups, “did I realise he was serious. Buying an old farmhouse, in Italy of all places—well, I thought he was quite crazy—the spontaneity of that! Can you imagine? But, the supporting wife that I was, well, I finally agreed. When we got here, we worked harder than we ever worked in our corporate jobs I think. In fact, I know we did. But something else happened in the midst of all that. Jim started doing things that I would have never pictured him doing when we lived in Dublin. Like one day, I walked into the kitchen, and the place was just a mess. We were in the process of ripping out the floors, and I kind of cringed because I knew it was just going to be a very long day, but then Jim said, ‘No, we are doing something different today,’ and he held up this picnic basket. A picnic? I thought, really? But that’s just what we did, after he convinced me that the work could wait until another day, that there would always be more work to do on a place like this, but that ultimately, we had come here for a reason.”

  “So what did you do?” Hal asked.

  “We went on a picnic,” Maia laughed. “We walked down the hillside and spent the entire day basking in the sunshine eating bread and cheese, and drinking wine. It was a perfect day.” Maia paused recalling the day, reliving the memory. “And Jim was right. I can’t believe it took us leaving Dublin and the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives to realise that sometimes you need to just stop and connect with the person you love. Jim said one time, it was after we finished renovating one room in this place, ‘Well this looks great, but I’ve had enough for one day,’ and I was so intent on just admiring our work, looking at the new paint, and walking around on the floors we had put down and all this stuff, that Jim finally had to pull me from t
he room. He said, ‘I love what we did, but it won’t keep me warm at night—you will.’ I guess my point is, this place allowed him and I, even for a short time, to find balance in our lives. I realise you and Lori aren’t moving in,” she smiled, “but maybe it can work its magic on you two while you are here. If you let it.”

  Hal smiled. “So how do I get started on some of this ‘magic’?”

  Laughing, Maia got up from where she sat and reached for a vase of flowers. “I thought you would never ask—okay, here’s what you do first…”

  9

  When Lori opened her eyes, she felt momentarily discombobulated, like she had forgotten where she was. As her mind snapped into motion, she remembered where she was—the Italian farmhouse. But what confused her more was the bouquet of fresh azaleas that had suddenly appeared on her bedside table. That hadn’t been there the night before, when she had gone to bed angry next to Hal—the two of them sleeping with their backs turned to each other.

  It had been far from romantic, she thought. Some vacation!

  She sat up and edged closer to the side of the bed, dipping her face into the fresh blooms, their fragrance at once centering her, calming her. Lori looked behind her to Hal’s side of the bed only to find it empty.

  Hal is an early riser, she thought, could he have put the bouquet on her nightstand? Without considering the thought for another moment, she decided no, it had to be Maia, or Camilla.

  Getting up from bed and putting her robe on, she opened the door and padded down the hallway with bare feet. Entering the kitchen, she found it empty, but smelling of fresh coffee and hot bread. The sound of voices outside trickled into the house and she followed her ears.