“You’re checking up on him?” Her brows lifted in question and a slight smirk curled the corners of her lips. Of course, she’d be leading him, trying to get him to whatever point she wanted to make. She did things like that all the time, making him say way more than he was comfortable confessing.
“Autumn, just stop. That ship’s sailed. Focus on this wedding you’re apparently having.” Luckily, for him, that instantly changed the subject.
“Ugh, Nonnie’s so frustrating. How can I get her to understand the word no?”
He laughed straight out loud. How many times had they had this very discussion over the course of their lives? The problem, Autumn and his grandmother were cut from the same cloth. Neither of them would ever back down. “You can’t. Besides, she needs this diversion. Just go with it.”
“So, what’re you doing now?” Autumn asked, then let out a nice long yawn. “Unemployment seems to suit you. Is medicine still out of the question?”
“Most likely, at least for now,” he said, lifting a hand to gain the waiter’s attention as he reached for his wallet. The waiter came to the table, and Robert handed him his credit card.
“Sir, the meal’s on us tonight.” The waiter lifted two hands as he stepped away, refusing his credit card. “Your family’s legendary here. Paulie’s picture still hangs proudly over the kitchen. He looks ready to yell at any given moment.”
“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Robert said, his grin broadening, remembering his rough and ready grandfather. Paulie had been that way with everyone except him and Autumn. His deep, thick accent always soothed as he spoke to him and his sister.
“Me too,” Autumn said as if they had been given an invitation.
“I’m sure Rodney won’t mind. Come this way.”
Autumn grabbed her purse as they followed the waiter, a route they had taken thousands of times over their lives. Time had modernized the decor, but pockets of memories still assailed him. The time he and Autumn had snuck their first sips of liquor behind the bar at his dad’s fiftieth birthday party. The time he and Autumn played waiter to an empty dining room—that had always been Robert’s dream job as a small child. When he grew up, he either wanted to become a chef like his father and grandfather or wait tables in this very restaurant. That dream ended when Robert fumbled a tray filled with empty dishes right outside the kitchen door.
Paulie had given him strict instructions not to play with anything breakable. He hadn’t listened. The dishes crashed to the floor, and Paulie started yelling from deep inside the kitchen. He came barreling through the swinging door and stopped short when he saw Robert there with big tears welling in his eyes. Paulie’s face softened even as his daddy’s face held a pointed anger as he came into the dining room right behind Paulie.
His grandfather scooted him away, taking him off toward the back, far away from the trouble he deserved to be in. Paulie told him that night he should start another dream and stick with the sciences where he excelled in school. Maybe that was his first inclination of a career in medicine. Paulie had also taught him to cook, not dashing all his hopes for the future.
Autumn reached for him as they started through that same swinging door. He almost didn’t take her hand, so tired of all the attention his down feelings had created, but he realized, this one wasn’t for him. Her red-rimmed eyes looked back at him and held his for a moment. Clearly, she was reliving her special memories just as he was. He took her hand, letting his thumb brush across hers as they stepped inside a kitchen that instantly jolted him back in time.
The hustle and bustle of the busy staff felt and sounded the same. The frantic scurry to achieve the perfect dish each and every time was still first and foremost at La Bella Luna. Nothing had really changed, even the feeling of pressing tightly against the wall to try and stay out of everyone’s way as they rushed about. The excitement he felt every time he entered this kitchen still held true today.
“Take a look around,” Rodney said, moving past them into the kitchen.
The voice in this kitchen wasn’t booming or gruff like Paulie’s had been, but it was assertive, robust, and young. A woman, who commanded the kitchen with a mix of English and Italian.
“Look up.” They lifted their eyes to see a picture of Paulie, his spoon raised, his white toque, his chef’s hat, crumpled in his fist at his hip, his face masked with that scowl that made the smallish man seem ten feet tall. Robert immediately laughed. He remembered the look well. What a mood-lifter. Autumn’s grin followed.
“I miss him,” she said, though her voice broke and her smile faltered slightly.
“I do too.” Robert lifted his phone and snapped a picture of the photograph hanging on the wall.
“Wanna go to the back?” Autumn asked hesitantly, not budging an inch in that direction.
“Nah, I’ve seen enough,” Robert said, unsure of what it would be like to see the back-office part of the restaurant. To see their nursery turned playroom turned small library for after-school homework. A lot of their young lives had been nurtured within the old walls of this loving family restaurant.
“Me too. Let’s get out of here,” she said, leading the way out of the kitchen. At the front doors of the restaurant, she grabbed his arm, stopping him from fully stepping into the parking lot. “Robert, I want you to get in touch with Landon for me.”
“Stop. Please. Sailing ship,” he reminded. She looked ready to argue, and he placed two fingers on her lips, then kissed her on the
