Page 34 of Return to Whitmore
“You deserve every happiness, sis.”
“So do you, Jack,” Charlotte said, hitting his real name hard. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.” He stepped into his bedroom and closed the door.
Over the following two months, Charlotte was busy with preparations for her next film, which was premiering at a film festival at the end of summer. Every day, Charlotte spent nine to twelve hours in the editing suite, perfecting a film that felt closer to her heart than anything she’d done before. The subject was a group of Italian immigrant cooks working in Brooklyn and changing the restaurant game of the neighborhood. In fact, the cooks were five brothers, all immigrants from the same family, who altered their mother’s recipes just the slightest bit,in unique ways that had all of Brooklyn in an uproar about which recipes were better.
In the documentary, Charlotte spoke a mix of Italian and English with the chefs, asking them questions about the importance of Italian family and eating to her heart’s content. She gained no more than three pounds during filming, but that was only because Ralph was obsessed with exercising, and they went jogging together most evenings. (This was a romantic thing that Charlotte never would have dreamed of doing before Ralph.) In reality, she spent almost every day eating pasta and pizza till she felt stuffed—and so happy.
On the day of the documentary premiere, Charlotte was surprised and pleased to find that the auditorium was packed. She sat in the middle with Kathy, Jack, and Ralph, listening as the audience laughed and engaged with her film. At the end, there was a forty-five-minute question-and-answer session, with some people asking their questions in Italian. Charlotte’s heart was so happy.
When it was over, Charlotte was exhausted and on the brink of burnout. Ralph, Jack, and Kathy could see it clearly and did their best to take care of her. But Charlotte spent several days in bed. Ralph, Jack, and Kathy swapped turns making her food and sitting with her, and Charlotte did her best to smile and talk to them and laugh at their jokes. She could see the worry in their eyes.
Once, Francesca called from Italy to ask how her documentary had gone. Charlotte was still in bed and wondering if she’d ever get out of it.
“Your grandfather watched your documentary,” Francesca said. “He adored it. I don’t know how you got that man to like you so much. It’s like you can do no wrong.”
Charlotte smiled over the phone and tried to picture her mother back in Italy, perhaps lying in the cool shade ofthe garden, watching the stone pine trees flit. Charlotte was surprised at how much she missed her. It was for this reason, maybe, that Charlotte finally told her about the engagement.
“Marriage?” Francesca sounded surprised but sort of bored about it. “I didn’t think you’d go for that.”
Charlotte laughed. “You did.”
“Yes, and look how that turned out.”
Charlotte knew better than to let her mother bruise her heart.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to find a nice dress,” Francesca said. “You’ll have the wedding in Italy, won’t you?”
“Maybe New York.”
“Nonsense. It will be in Italy,” Francesca said. “It’s the most beautiful place in the world.”
Charlotte decided she’d figure that out later.
“I do love you, you know,” Francesca told her—speaking English for the first time in ages. Charlotte had half imagined she’d forgotten how.
“I love you, too, Mom,” Charlotte said. Her voice broke, betraying her.
For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine Jack (as Jack!), Allegra, Lorelei, Alexander, their mother, and even Nina at her wedding. She imagined the reunion under a glowing Italian sun. She imagined drawing her mother into a hug and saying,Let’s never be cruel to one another again.
Maybe everything would be all right.
At the end of the week, Jack burst into Charlotte’s room to find Charlotte up and around, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top and putting on her tennis shoes.
“Brilliant!” he said. “You’re up!”
Charlotte laughed and put her hands on her hips. “About time?”
“Don’t worry yourself,” Jack said. “But I wanted to tell you that your fiancé and I have a little surprise for you.”
“And what could that be?”
“We refuse to tell you,” Jack said. “But we will kidnap you in approximately five hours. Have your bags packed and be ready to go. Kathy has been notified, as well.”
Charlotte laughed. “What should I bring?”
“Swimsuits? Dresses? I don’t know what you women need.” Jack pretended to roll his eyes, then ran out, closing the door behind him.
