Big Cherry Holler - Adriana Trigiani [79]
I don’t move a muscle. I can’t. Between the bad springs in this chair and my nerves shutting down one synapse at a time, I can’t trust my body. “Boy, this is some haircut.”
“What?”
“I never got this kind of attention with my old hair.”
“It’s not the hair.”
“Come on. You don’t even know me.”
“I like what I see so far.”
“Pete, let me tell you about the part you don’t see.”
“Please do. That’s the good stuff.”
“I don’t know how good this stuff is. I was the Big Stone Gap Town Spinster for fifteen years.”
“You called yourself that?”
“Yeah.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I waited a long time to fall in love. And then I married him.”
“So how’s it going?”
“What?”
“Your marriage?”
I take a deep breath. “Not so great.”
“Why not?”
“We’re very different.”
“That can be a good thing.”
“Sometimes.”
“What did you think it was going to be like?”
“Being married?”
“No. Loving someone. When you were a spinster—your word—did you imagine what love would be like?”
I sit back. No one has ever asked me this before. Not even Theodore. That’s the sort of thing we might have talked about, but we were so busy making each other feel safe in our roles that we didn’t talk about the murky, deep stuff that a potential lover might unearth. And Jack Mac doesn’t talk about these things at all.
“I thought that love made everything better. I thought that it was a state of happiness and security. Yeah, that’s it. And serenity. I thought love made a person whole.”
“How would it do that?” Pete asks.
I think about this for moment. “It can’t.” Saying that almost makes me cry. I rub my eyes. I hope that Pete thinks I’m tired.
“I’ve upset you.”
“No, no. I should think about these things more.” I mean that. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“I think you’re fascinating.”
“Me? Come on.” I shift in the chair. Another spring stabs me, this time near my ribs.
“So what’s the problem with your husband?”
I won’t answer that because I have no answer. Instead I state the facts. “My husband was supposed to come on this vacation, and at the last minute he told me he wasn’t coming because he thinks I need time to think, and he told me that I need to decide if I want to stay married.”
“Do you?”
I should say yes, but I don’t. “He may not want me at the end of this vacation.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you decided what you wanted?”
“That’s what he says.”
“He’s right.”
I watch Pete drink his coffee by the light of the fire. I imagine him leaning across the chair and kissing me. I shake my head. The picture goes.
“Well, this is going to be an interesting month for you, isn’t it?” He smiles at me. I wish he didn’t have such great teeth.
“And busy,” I tweet. Where did that sound come from? I breathe. “There’s a big calendar at the house filled with stuff to do. Giacomina, my dad’s girlfriend, came up with a month of activities. And I like a plan.”
“The first thing you need to do is …” Pete leans toward me and puts his hand on the arm of my chair. “Throw out that calendar.”
Pete walks me home in the rain. Giacomina and Papa are back from the ski shop, and it’s suppertime. Where did the time go? That cup of coffee lasted for hours! Mafalda invites Pete to stay, and he graciously accepts. He instantly charms my family; he is so easygoing and fun, it’s as though he’s been around for years. As I watch him keep the conversation going, I think about my husband, who, in the same situation, would rather listen than talk. I like to sit back and listen, but when you’re married to a quiet man, you have to do the talking most of the time. I relax back into the chair and let Pete do the entertaining.
Chiara and Etta tell Pete all about the jellyfish in the ocean at Sestri Levante. He tells them about the jellyfish on the Jersey shore. As we eat a hearty lamb stew (what does Mafalda do to the meat to make it so tender?) and bread, both of the girls develop wild crushes on him. He pays close attention to every word they say, the girls, vying to impress him, transform from kids to coquettes before our eyes. Papa asks Pete about stonework