Page 91 of True North

“You can and I will. I ain’t askin’, Lou. We’re doin’ this. I won’t stand to lose one more thing.”

I look up into the canopy of the old oak. Its dark green leaves move with the breeze, each one dancing like it has no care in the world. Closing my eyes, I rest my head back against the rough bark. With a deep, steady inhale I feel all the way down to my toes, I let the vision of what Harry is saying take over.

For the first time in my life, I’m in the right place, in the right moment. The pieces of my life I’ve been juggling precariously for years are slowly, carefully falling into place. The old tree at my back groans when the wind picks up, the branches swaying and leaves hissing.

Emotion drowns my senses.

I know it’s Rosie.

Her and her talkin’ to the trees.

Even when we were teenagers, she would say her prayers out in the fields, her words carried away by Mother Nature, not God. For these parts, even then, it was a bit odd. But her wisdom and love outshone anything else. As the breeze winds around the old trunk, wrapping me in its embrace, I know for sure it’s her.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” His words are grounded this time, his gaze pinning me where I stand.

“Take me home.”

He hesitates for a heartbeat, but when I push from the tree, closing the space between us to rest my palm over his heart, he understands.

“Yes, ma’am.”

His large, rough hand closes over mine on his shirt before he pushes his hat onto his head and leads me home.

* * *

The restaurant is bustling. I guess with folks still in town for Rosie’s service, it’s to be expected. People I don’t even remember strike up conversations as I try my best to alternate between cookin’ and waitin’ tables.

Upstairs, my bag is packed. The few possessions I have are bundled up and ready to go. Harry is following me home tonight, to make sure the Datsun gets there. After breaking down last time, he worries every time I drive her further than the town’s outer limits.

“Louisa, a moment, bambina?” Mama says, coming up behind me. I finish up with the table I’m clearing and follow her back to the kitchen, arms loaded with dirty plates and cutlery. Depositing them onto the counter by the sink, I wash my hands and lean against the counter.

“How are you?” Mama’s eyes are tight, concern lacing her features.

“I’m fine. Thanks again for letting me out of the apartment lease. I need to be where Harry is right now...”

Mama shakes her head. “We understand. Whatever we can do to help, just ask.”

I offer her a soft smile, glancing at the crowd through the pass.

“Louisa, if your plans have changed, we will understand.”

“Nothing changes with the restaurant, I promise. Only my living arrangements.”

She leans in, patting my hand as she says, “Okay, bambina, okay.”

With that, she wanders to the dining space, checking on patrons, clearing away. I turn back to clear the counter before helping with orders. I don’t want to back out on the restaurant. It’s something I can immerse myself in. Something to keep me grounded. I have wanted that feeling for so long.

When the last happy dinner customer has left satisfied, I lean on the front doorjamb, taking in the small, intimate space. Life happens in this little restaurant. Loved ones catch up on quality time. Conversations happen—the good, the easy... the hard.

The occasional proposal.

It’s nice to be part of something so central to the people of Lewistown. It’s almost as if Mama’s is the beating heart of the small town. Where Lewistown converges to find its soul. I sigh, letting my eyes close, trying to ignore the ache in my feet.

A voice clears from the sidewalk.

“You two need a moment?” the rough, familiar voice quips.

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