CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MELANIE
“How is she?” I asked Dominic. When I walked into the office, he’d been on the phone with the hospital again.
“They just gave her some more pain meds,” he said. “But the CT scan came back good, and Tara just said the surgical team stopped by. Her hip repair is scheduled for tomorrow morning at eleven.”
“And she’ll need to stay in the hospital for a few days?”
“At least.” He stretched his arms and sat down at the desk chair he never used, because he was always in the thick of the restaurant action and almost never in here. “I think the nurse’s station is ready to ban my calls. Even Tara’s tired of dealing with my constant check-ins.”
I got behind him and put my hands on his shoulders, trying to squeeze the tension out. He relaxed under my touch, his eyes closing and his head rolling back slightly. I had to admit I thought it was utterly adorable the way this big, strapping man worried so much about his grandmother. All day I’d kept telling him that he could leave the Esposito’s business to me and stay with her at the hospital, but he’d declined. He said Donna had already ordered him out of there once today, and he didn’t want to risk incurring the stubborn, old woman’s wrath.
“That feels good,” he said with a moan as my fingers massaged deeper into his hard muscles.
“Quiet,” I warned with a smile. “The staff will think there’s something erotic going on in here.”
He cracked open an eye. “There could be.”
“Down, boy.” I slid my hand down the top of his shirt and tickled his chest because I knew it would make him flinch. Then I headed over to sit at my own desk so I wouldn’t be as tempted to hike my skirt up and swing one leg across his lap.
“Can you handle the dinner crowd?” he asked. “I was going to take off at six and head over to the hospital whether Donna thinks I ought to be there or not.”
“Of course I can handle it,” I said. “Are you coming over later?”
Dominic looked serious all of a sudden. He laced his fingers together on the desk. “Do you think we should talk, Mel?” he asked slowly. Then he sighed. “I’m worried that we’ve been avoiding a serious discussion for weeks.”
I picked up a pen, mostly because it was there and I had to do something while I collected my thoughts. I didn’t like the heavy sound to his words. If I didn’t start clicking the pen repeatedly to ease this sudden nervous energy, then I’d start pacing or wringing my hands like a comic book character.
“We’re not avoiding anything, Dom,” I said, congratulating myself on my even tone. “And you can talk anytime you’d like. I’m not stopping you.”
He looked troubled. “Baby, please don’t look at me like that. I’m not blowing you off, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not even close.”
Part of me exhaled with relief, and part of me was annoyed. Why didn’t he just come out and say whatever it was he wanted to say?
Why don’t I?
I didn’t really have time to piece together a response, because Patsy burst through the door without knocking.
“Oh!” she exclaimed when she saw Dominic. Her face instantly turned a color that matched her frizzy, red hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I thought it was just Melanie in here.”
“It’s okay,” I told her. “What’s up?”
Patsy nervously glanced at me, then at Dominic, then back at me. “Ashlyn’s school called. They think she has pink eye again. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I just need to pick her up, get a refill on her antibiotics, and drop her off at my sister’s. I’ll be back before the crowd gets heavy.”
“Go ahead,” I said. “It’s early. Take care of your little one.”
Patsy flashed me a grateful, bucktoothed grin and scampered away.
“She sure has a lot of emergencies,” Dominic commented.
“So what?” I snapped. “She’s a single mom. What the hell do you expect her to do? She’s always here when we need her.”
“Okay, okay.” He held up a hand. “Truce.” He got to his feet with a sigh and started for the door. He had his hand on the knob when something occurred to me.
“Wait,” I said as I stood up. “Do you remember that you have a meeting tomorrow with Cal Destin, the head of the Phoenix Restaurant Association?”
He exhaled with irritation. “Nope, I forgot. Can you take care of rescheduling that?”
“No. His assistant already thinks I’m a flake because I lied last month when you decided to cancel at the last minute. I told her you had an urgent dental problem to take care of, and you were currently writhing around on the floor like a fish in agony. She let me know that Cal was already unhappy about scheduling this meeting on a Saturday morning, but something tells me he’ll be even more unhappy if you cancel.”
He shrugged indifferently. “I can’t go. I’ll be in the waiting room during Donna’s surgery.”
“You said it wasn’t until eleven. The meeting is at eight thirty and won’t last longer than an hour, so you’ll have plenty of time to make it to the hospital.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, and returned to the kitchen where he was most comfortable.
Something I’d already learned in the short time we’d been open is that the dinner crowd during the week started earlier here than it did at Espo 1. The calls for takeout orders started around four thirty, and by a quarter after five, there was a line of tired office workers waiting to pick up their food after a long workday. Not everyone came here to pick up and run, though. When Dominic left for the hospital at six, the dining room was already three-quarters full.
“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” he told me on his way out the door. I would have liked to give him a comforting hug, but he didn’t show any hint that he would welcome one. True, the dining room was full of customers, and the staff would have gaped, but according to Tara no one would have found it newsworthy if Dominic and I were seen embracing. Yet we hadn’t talked about it with each other. We hadn’t talked about anything important. Our plans were all vague. Someday we’ll do this, or sometime we’ll go there. That had to change at some point.
“So let me ask you something,” said a man who was scanning the menu board at the order counter.
“Shoot,” I said.
“Do those cannolis taste as good as they look?”
“Even better,” I promised.
He smiled. It was a nice smile, and he was nice looking. Clean cut, black suit, silk tie. Before I met Dominic, this guy would definitely have been someone I’d consider, particularly when he flashed that flirty grin. But the mercurial, devastatingly gorgeous Dominic Esposito might have already ruined me for all ordinary men.
And what’s more, I liked being ruined.
The man lingered for a few seconds after he placed his order, perhaps trying to figure out a way to extend the conversation. I gave him a friendly nod, nothing more, and moved on to the next customer.
When I’d been hired, it had been understood that my regular role wouldn’t involve serving, but I found that I actually liked helping out in the dining room during especially busy shifts. I’d never thought of myself as the service-oriented type, but there was something satisfying about carrying dinner over to a hungry family. At first I’d felt self-conscious, scanning everyone who walked in to make sure it wasn’t someone I knew, someone who had somehow heard what happened to my career and would gloat over the fact that I appeared to be taking pizza orders. But that hadn’t happened, and I learned to relax. Anyway, I was proud to work here, proud of the job I was doing.
I helped Patsy bring a large order over to a family of five. I’d seen them when they walked in and kept my eye on them, only because they radiated a special kind of light. Maybe it was because the couple and their three daughters were so good-looking, like a family in a commercial. Or maybe it was because of the way they laughed so loud and often in each other’s company. The man was tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos to the point where he could have seemed scary. But the good humor in his face wasn’t an act. The woman had to be his wife and the mother of the three girls. One of the girls looked just like her, with the same shiny, brown hair and clear, green eyes that fastened shrewdly on everything in sight. The brunette and a wistful-looking blonde seemed to be around sixteen, while the remaining girl, who shared features with both sisters, appeared to be on the cusp of adolescence.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” I asked, smiling as the girls attacked the food with delight.
“I think we’re fine,” answered the woman, and she smiled up at me. I noted the intimate way the man kept his heavily tattooed arm casually draped over the back of her chair. They wore matching gold wedding bands, although if I’d first laid eyes on them separately, I wouldn’t have guessed them as a couple. He had “bad boy” written all over him, and she seemed like a well-kept soccer mom. But they were obviously together and obviously in love, because the man grabbed a slice of pizza and set it on her plate before he took one for himself. It was a small gesture, but sometimes those small gestures spoke the loudest.
“Are you okay?” the youngest girl asked me, because I was just kind of hovering over them and breathing on their food.
The man and woman looked up at me with curiosity.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I was just wondering what your tattoo says.”
The woman glanced down at her left arm at the line of spidery script. It was her only visible ink, although her husband looked like he could have starred in some kind of tattoo reality show.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “It’s none of my business, so please—”
“It’s all right,” the woman said softly as she looked down at the tattoo on her arm. She touched it with gentle fingertips. “I had this done many years ago.” She held her arm up. “Here, read it for yourself.”
I peered at the words. Amor vincit omnia.
My knowledge of Latin was virtually nonexistent, but I must have heard this particular quote before because I knew it instantly.
“Love conquers all,” I said, and the woman smiled.
“That’s right.” She nudged her husband. “Most important life lesson ever learned. Don’t you agree, Cord?”
The man grinned. “Seventeen happy years of marriage confirms it,” he said solemnly.
They looked into each other’s eyes, then the man picked up his wife’s hand and kissed it as if she were a princess in a fairy tale. It was a brief, sweet gesture. Nonetheless, their daughters gagged and turned away. I didn’t turn away. I stared in rapt fascination. This was what true love looked like. This was what my parents had before tragedy cut their journey short. This was what I saw in their faces every time I looked at that photograph in my living room. This was what I wanted. Maybe it was even possible that I’d already found it.
It was in bad taste to just stand there and stare, so I retreated. I did send the table a plate of complimentary cannoli, though.
An hour before closing Dominic returned. He looked tired and troubled, but he said that Donna was resting comfortably, and the meds had diminished her pain. The surgeon had explained that there were additional risk factors for anyone Donna’s age, but her vitals were stable and they expected that she would come through the surgery fine and make a recovery with the aid of physical therapy.
He pulled me aside in the office and broke the news that he wasn’t coming over tonight. Between the weariness of the day and the fact that he had a very early meeting, he figured we’d both be better off if he slept in his own neglected bed. Dominic watched me carefully when he said all this, maybe expecting that I would be angry or hurt. I wasn’t. Even though I’d gotten used to falling asleep beside him, I could certainly manage on my own for a night. I kissed him quickly on the lips, told him to get some rest, and to let me know if I could do anything to help the family.
When I got home, Luke and Lando were overjoyed. Well, as overjoyed as cats can be. They competed for space in my lap, rubbed their faces against my Esposito’s T-shirt, and sniffed at the leftover pizza I devoured right there on the couch with no cares about crumbs or sauce stains.
“This is how I roll,” I told the cats as I switched on the television with the intention of indulging in a Gilmore Girls marathon. The next thing I knew, it was dawn, Luke was sitting on my neck, and Lando was licking marinara sauce from one of the nearby throw pillows.
I groaned, pushed the cat off my body, and sat up. “Must have been a wild night,” I said as I tried to smooth down the rowdy nest that my hair had become. It was a futile effort, so I gave up and headed for the shower.
After I was dressed, I realized I didn’t have to be at work for a few hours. I stared at my wide-eyed reflection in the bathroom vanity mirror for a moment and then made an impulsive decision. I kissed Luke and Lando on their napping orange heads and went out to buy some flowers. Only something happy and colorful would do, so I settled on a yellow daisy arrangement and drove straight to the hospital. I wasn’t sure I’d get to see Donna since she might be in the process of getting prepped for surgery, but she was still in her room. I felt timid walking in, wondering if she’d even remember who I was since we’d only met once. But Dominic’s grandmother beamed joyfully when I peeked through the open door of her hospital room.
“It’s you,” she said.
“Hi, Donna.” I crept in and set the flowers on a little table beside her bed. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
She held a hand out, and I took her fingers gently. “Of course. You’re my grandson Dominic’s girl,” she said warmly.
I felt myself blushing like a shy schoolgirl, but I was pleased. I liked the sound of that, of being “Dominic’s girl.” I wasn’t there more than fifteen minutes before a pair of nurses came in to announce that Donna needed to be moved to the surgical wing. Tara and Gio arrived just as her bed was being wheeled down the corridor. They seemed surprised to see me. Dominic should have been finished with his meeting, and I wanted to wait around for him, but today was going to be busy. I told Gio I’d bounce between Espo 1 and Espo 2 to make sure everything was running smoothly. Gio tried to talk me out of it, arguing that I was already putting in way more time at work than I was expected to, but I wouldn’t change my mind. Dom and Gio needed to be here, at least until Donna was out of surgery and settled. I didn’t want them to worry about anything else.
“Thanks, Melanie,” Gio said, and Tara hugged me.
I stopped by the old restaurant first. It had just opened for the day, and Aimee, who’d been serving at Espo 1 since the place opened, seemed to have it all under control. I told her to call if she needed anything and drove straight to downtown Phoenix, thinking about the Esposito family all the while.
Once I was at work, I shook off my feelings of melancholy. It wasn’t possible to keep a depressed mood going when there was pizza everywhere. Tim asked if I wanted some lunch; I happily accepted and carried an entire pie back to my office. As I ate, I wondered how much longer I’d be able to fit into a pair of jeans if all my meals were made of bread and cheese.
The call came at exactly noon. I remembered because I had just turned on my desk clock radio and heard the daily noontime national anthem. My favorite radio station played a different local high school’s recording every day.
“Melanie,” Dominic said, and I knew his tone well enough by now to tell when something was very wrong.
“What happened?” I asked, although somehow I already knew the answer.
His voice cracked as he told me. And my heart cracked a little, too, at the sound of his pain.
Donna Esposito, cherished family matriarch, had gone into sudden cardiac arrest five minutes after the general anesthesia took effect. Frantic attempts to revive her did not succeed. She’d had a long, rewarding life. In her eighty-two years she’d fashioned a legacy of love and good food and devoted family.
But even long lives somehow never seem long enough.