Through the thick silence of the morning after my late return home last night, I see a call coming in from Uncle Roberto. Cold distance and awkward maneuvering around the apartment erases with his image in mind. “Hi, Uncle Roberto.”
“Buongiorno, Toni. How are you doing all the way over there today?” His magnificent soul translates over the many miles with melodic comfort.
“Great.” Just like when a store employee asks how your day’s going, nobody takes a seat and releases the nitty-gritty details, so I wouldn’t bother my ball-of-joy uncle with my garbage. “How’s everyone over there?”
“We are all doing very well. My stomach is full of your aunt’s cassoeula, so it’s happy.”
“Oh, you’re making my mouth water, and it’s still breakfast time. I love her pork rib and sausage stew. Even the cabbage,” I whisper at the end.
“You used to put up a fight to eat it when you were a little girl, but now you like it?!” He laughs.
“I guess I grew up,” I say in a forced regretful tone but, returning to seriousness, add, “Tell Aunt Pia hello for me.”
“I will. She’s cleaning up, and the kitchen still smells like the onions in the stew.” He sniffs a few times.
“Wish I was there.”
“Me too. As always! But I am calling for more than hearing your sweet voice.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I found something you would like, the deed for the land Pietro owned in your state.” His voice climbs a note with every word.
I fall onto the back of my couch, sending Nala, previously lying next to me, jumping to the floor. “What? You have to be kidding. That’s amazing. How? Where?”
“I spoke to a few people and was led to your cousin, Michael, who had a box of old family items. This was one of them.”
“Uncle Roberto, I can’t believe it. Can you tell me what it says? Is there a location mentioned? I mean, I assume there has to be something…” I can’t control my giddiness.
“Yes, there’s, uh…how you say? Regions. Street names and directions. I can send you a photograph through the phone if you want.”
“Yes! I would appreciate that.” I squeeze my blanket. You know when something is so great it hurts? Well, it’s happening now, and I’m about to burst.
“I don’t text very often, so I may need help. But it will come to you soon,” he assures.
“That’s wonderful!” I exclaim. “Thank you.”
“And there’s more.”
I sit up straight.
My movement must alert Nala to be on edge too since she swivels her head toward me, peering from my feet. She wiggles her mustache above her mouth, leading to a yawn. So, she’s not at all on edge—just me.
“There is also a photograph of Pietro and his wife when they got married.”
“I can finally see what he looked like!”
“Unfortunately, la mia gentile nipote, half of the photo has damage, so he is not fully there. It looks like water found its way on it over the years.”
My heart sinks. “I’ll take anything. One eye, half a nose.”
“I will have a text sent with this as well. Something is better than nothing.”
“Definitely. Thank you so much! You’re the greatest uncle a girl could have.”
“How is the winery business going?” he asks. “Have you opened yet?”
A laugh escapes bigger than expected, even though I know he must be kidding. “I have a long way to go…and actually I’m playing in a trial week for the LA Philharmonic because I’ve made it to this point of auditions.”
“I do not understand. You are opening a winery, or you are playing cello?”
“Yes.” I pause, agreeing with his confusion. “I’m seeing what happens with the auditions and moving forward on the winery. I just looked at properties yesterday.” Of course, as soon as I say that, the bedroom door behind me creaks. But when I turn my head to view its status, it’s closed. Christian must’ve been listening, though how could he not? My voice did get loud.
“You have your hands full, I see. And choices to make.”
“Well, I haven’t been offered LA Phil, and I can’t even think about that with the million other decisions I have to make if I open the winery…”
“Things will work out. Listen to an old man.”
“I want to believe you. I do. But I don’t even know how I’ll get the money I need to start the business. That’s just one of many hurdles.” The endless zeros on the price of the property I adored pops into my mind.
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Things will work out.”
Somehow, the repeating of his wisdom reassures me. He’s never failed me in my whole life, so I’ll try to take his words as fact. Plus, Lesley told me the same thing, and she knows her stuff. There must be a way. I need to take their advice and keep it in my brain, so I knock on my head a few times with my fist. That’ll do the trick. It’s very scientific.
Instead of revealing my antics, I simply say, “They’ll have to.”
“That’s the way. Now, you have a great Sunday with the family later. Tell them hello from us.”
“Will do. And thanks again. Love you, and talk to you soon.”
“Nala, can you believe it?” I shriek as soon as I click end on my phone.
No reaction.
“What’s your uncle have to say?” Christian appears from thin air, making me jump and clutch my chest before spinning around.
“Not much.” Why would I tell him good news? I turn back around.
“I thought I overheard you talking about your auditions to him.” He sits next to me on the couch, and my insides recoil.
“Oh, that. Yeah.” I scootch away and curl into the corner.
“What do you mean that? Why are you not giving yourself enough credit? You made it to the last round of auditions for a place you always wanted to work at, Toni.”
His aggressive cheerleader role isn’t working for me.
“I know,” I mumble, not wanting to say the second half of my thought. The part that can’t fathom getting what I’ve wanted for so many years when my heart has leapt to a new endeavor.
“I don’t think you do. I want you to give yourself a pat on the back.”
Who is he?
Wait…
He’s someone with his own agenda. Of course! No winery means no arguments and his formerly lifeless wife returning. Focusing on my cellist career means everything returns to normal—his normal. My body tightens.
“I did something for you,” he says.
I look at him from a side-eye. “Yeah?” What now?
“I got us two tickets to see your favorite cellists, 2CELLOS. They’re coming to the Hollywood Bowl in January.”
How can I feel both eager and angry at the same time?
“Well? Say something.” He crouches down to catch my full eye line.
“Thanks. That’ll be fun. I do love seeing them live,” I say, mustering up more enthusiasm than annoyance.
“I thought it may cheer you up. You left in a mood yesterday. See, I always know what you need.” He walks off with a sneer.
Biting my lip to not blurt out how I’m in a mood due to him, I instead murmur, “Mm-hmm.”
The nerve of him, to be proud of himself for trying to buy my affection. And with no responsibility for his own actions, like I’m the whole problem in our marriage. It’s obviously both of us growing apart and what I see increasingly now is the A word Flora mentioned.
A shiver chills my bones.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m certain that he’s not the man I married, and there doesn’t seem to be any chance of that man’s return.