Chapter 29

For the next few weeks, the days passed slowly. The hands of the classroom clock refused to find the twelve and the three, and the afternoons—in the hours between when the children left, and Eduardo picked up Sarah—were even worse. Not even Sarah’s sketchpad could distract her. And hall duty? Interminable. How could a night away from Eduardo feel so long? Especially when the nights spent with him, which were more a regularity than not, slipped into morning faster than Eduardo rolled his ‘r’s.

Time was fickle, especially when measured by Eduardo’s presence.

So, when Eduardo’s weekend with Lucia neared, Sarah didn’t want to let him go. Of course, she wanted him to spend time with his daughter—for both their sakes—but she didn’t want to miss a minute of his time. Then she felt guilty for feeling anything but happiness.

“I can’t believe a month has passed,” she said one evening as she dined with him. “What do you two have planned?” She hoped her carefully crafted smile masked the heaviness in her chest.

“Two?” Eduardo lifted his brows. “Well, naturally you’ll be joining us.”

He wants me to join them? The weight in her chest lifted then bored down again. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand. “Actually, I insist.”

“Well, okay. If you insist.” She relaxed her smile and squeezed his hand. She wouldn’t be spending the weekend alone after all.

****

“Cheese?” Eduardo brought a block of Parmesan to the table.

In Eduardo’s flat, Sarah sat beside Lucia, observing the interactions of the father-daughter weekend.

“Me! Me!” Lucia squealed, uncurling a forkful of spaghetti.

Eduardo paused, shaver in hand. “Is that how we ask?” His gaze drifted to Sarah. “Especially in front of a guest.”

“Please!” She bounced on her chair.

Eduardo’s admonishment apparently did nothing to dampen her energy.

He gave Lucia a generous helping then turned to Sarah. “Let me guess.” He exchanged the shaver for a grater. “Just a dusting?”

Sarah smiled. “Don’t you know me well?”

Eduardo shrugged and applied a scant layer to her plate.

“That’s all you want?” Lucia asked.

Red sauce outlined Lucia’s mouth. Sarah placed the napkin on her lap. “Someday you’ll understand. Well”—she swept her gaze over Eduardo’s elephant-sized portion—“maybe.”

Lucia knitted her brows.

“Nonsense!” Eduardo twirled a heap of pasta on his fork. “Who doesn’t love a woman with curves? Take Miss Sarah’s curves. I never knew a woman could have such perfect curves. Maybe it’s an American thing.”

Sarah paused. Heat prickled her cheeks. Under the table, she slammed a foot on Eduardo’s.

“Ow!” Eduardo hollered through cheeks stuffed with spaghetti. “What was that for?”

With lips pursed, Sarah motioned with her eyes toward Lucia.

Eduardo leaned in toward Sarah. “What? You don’t want her to know?” He spoke in a hushed tone.

“Know what?” Lucia glanced between the adults. “You mean about you two?”

Sarah froze and looked at Eduardo. “You told her?”

“Me?” Eduardo rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t tell her without asking you first.”

“No one told me,” Lucia said. “I overheard Mama talking to Leonardo.”

Eduardo gave a thick sigh.

“Leonardo De Luca?” Sarah gasped.

Without taking his attention from Lucia, Eduardo nodded. “What exactly did your mother say?”

Lucia shrugged. “She said something about your relationship being inappropriate.”

Sarah cringed. Oh. My. God. Roberta must have seen them together somewhere—or maybe she spotted Eduardo dropping her off at the dorm in the morning. Of all the people to find out about their relationship, Roberta would be the one. They should have been more careful!

“Inappropriate?” Eduardo bolted to his feet. “Inappropriate? As if she has any reason to say such a thing.”

“Papa, what does in-ap-pro-pri-ate mean?”

Eduardo rubbed his forehead. “Why don’t you ask your mother?”

Sarah frowned. This situation wasn’t good—not good at all. Not only had she pissed off Roberta and Mr. De Luca, but now she’d upset Eduardo, too. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “Lucia, ‘inappropriate’ means to do something that’s not…not…” She searched for a word. “Not proper.”

“Like not closing the bathroom door?”

Sarah laughed. “Yes, Lucia. Something like that.”

Eduardo clenched his fists and scowled.

Clearly, he wasn’t amused; he looked ready to explode. Sarah stifled her laughter.

Lucia pressed her brows together. “But what are you and Papa doing that’s inappropriate?”

“We’re not doing anything inappropriate, Lucia.” Eduardo spoke in a raised voice. “Sarah is my girlfriend. And if your mother has something to say about it, she can say it to my face.” He collapsed into his chair.

Sarah snatched his hand and ran her thumb over his palm. She attempted to catch his gaze.

But he only glared at a spot on the table.

First Lucia looked at Eduardo, then Sarah, and finally at their hands. Her lips rounded into a smile. “Really?” She bounced on her chair.

Lucia’s voice dinged with excitement. Sarah exchanged a look with Eduardo. Smiling, she looked back at Lucia and nodded.

“Well, that doesn’t sound inappropriate to me.”

A smile replaced Eduardo’s scowl, and he gazed at Lucia then Sarah. He squeezed Sarah’s hand. “No, Lucia, it doesn’t.”

The warmth spread from her hand to her chest. If only she could make it last forever.

****

Sarah placed a kettle on Eduardo’s stove and plucked two bags of chamomile tea from the stash in the cupboard. She dropped one in each mug. Eduardo already adopted her nightly tea habit.

Down the hall, Eduardo busied with putting Lucia to bed.

When the kettle whined, Sarah removed it from the burner, not wanting the whistle to interrupt Lucia. She poured the water over the bags, wondering how Eduardo put Lucia to bed. Did they read stories? Did they sing songs?

Cupping the mug in her hands, she stepped into the hall and listened. Eduardo’s warm baritone drifted from behind Lucia’s bedroom door. He read a book—something about a witch and fairies. Warmth infused her chest. Could he be a more doting father?

She returned to the kitchen, picked up Eduardo’s mug, and carried it to the couch. She placed their drinks on the ottoman and curled her legs beneath her.

Across from her, stacks of files teetered on Eduardo’s desk. Had he touched them since they’d returned from Florence? He hadn’t while she’d been there. Maybe that was because the new office manager, Carina, was working out so well. Sarah eyed the stack again. Maybe Carina should start making house calls.

“Dormi, dormi bel bambin.” Eduardo’s voice, singing a lullaby, echoed down the hall.

Sarah stood and approached Eduardo’s desk. If Eduardo would give up his working at home habit—as he’d told her he would—then returning the files to his office would be the first step. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Eduardo was still in Lucia’s room then snatched a fistful of folders and tucked them in his briefcase.

In the hallway, Eduardo appeared.

What would he say if he saw her? Sarah scurried from the briefcase and hopped onto the couch.

Eduardo entered the living room, and he lifted a brow. “You look guilty.”

Sarah inched up her shoulders. “I packed a few of your files for Carina.”

“Ah.” Eduardo picked up his tea. “I suppose I should take those back.” He threw an arm over Sarah’s shoulder and drew her close.

She relaxed into his embrace. “Sorry, I should have asked.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “No need to apologize. Actually, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry Lucia put you on the spot tonight.”

She avoided his gaze. “Does her knowing about us bother you?”

Eduardo pulled back and studied her. “Why would it bother me?”

Sarah shrugged.

He tucked her under his arm and lightly kissed her head. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Sarah—waiting to have a family again.”

Family. A warmth filled her breast. Sarah nuzzled into Eduardo’s chest. Was that really what they could be? She closed her eyes. Wasn’t a family everything she’d ever wanted—everything she’d dreamt of?

Wait—what if Lucia wasn’t enough family for Eduardo? What if he wanted…more children? She sat up and sipped the last of her tea, and bitterness nipped her tongue.

Eduardo took her empty cup and placed it on the ottoman. “Sound good to you?”

“I’m sorry?” Whatever Eduardo said, she’d completely missed.

“Ice skating tomorrow? You, me, and Lucia.”

“Right.” She relaxed back into his embrace. Ice skating sure sounded like a family activity. “Sounds good.” If only they were a family.

****

The ice rink sprawled below the Castel Sant’Angelo. Children and adults alike covered the ice. Some kids knelt over buckets, struggling to stay upright, while experienced skaters glided along gracefully, weaving among moms holding tiny-gloved hands.

Sarah tied her men’s-sized skates and inched onto the ice. Like an awkward giant whose laces were knotted together, she wobbled. Why hadn’t ice skating been on her parents’ radar? She clung to the wall. At least concentrating on staying upright took her mind off Eduardo’s comments about family.

Lucia skated past and twirled to face Sarah, skating backward. “What’s wrong, Miss Sarah? Don’t you skate?”

Sarah gave a pinched smile. “Is my inferiority that obvious?”

Eduardo slid behind her and laced his fingers in Sarah’s. He pulled her from the wall.

Lucia raced back to them and grabbed Eduardo’s free hand. “Andiamo!” She dug in the heels of her blades and started off.

The left side of Eduardo’s body jerked forward.

Sarah lurched with him, her skates slipped wide, and her breath became ragged. She released Eduardo’s hand and lunged at the wooden supports enclosing the rink.

“Lucia,” Eduardo cupped his hands around his mouth. “Slow down.”

“No, please.” Sarah caught her breath. Thank God she didn’t face-plant. “You two go ahead.”

Frowning, Eduardo flashed his gaze in Lucia’s direction. “She can wait. We can race later, can’t we, Lucia?”

Lucia shoved her hands in her pockets and responded with a humph.

“Ed!” called a voice.

Through the menagerie of wool coats, leather jackets, and cowl-neck sweaters, Mr. Moretti and Cira appeared just outside the rink.

“Cira!” Lucia raced over to her classmate.

Eduardo took Sarah on his elbow.

Sarah fumbled by his side. She clung to him all the way to Mr. Moretti.

“Vito, so good to see you,” Eduardo said in Italian. He extended his hand over the wall.

Vito glanced toward Sarah and back to Eduardo. “I didn’t realize you and Signorina Miller were acquainted.”

Eduardo grinned. “Yes, Sarah and are I quite well acquainted.”

Mr. Moretti’s pudgy cheeks balled in a smile. He gave Eduardo a playful punch in the shoulder.

Sarah dropped her jaw. First, Eduardo told Lucia—now, Mr. Moretti? The whole school would soon know she was Eduardo Rossini’s girlfriend. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, except—her feet slipped on the ice, and she struggled to stay upright—Eduardo didn’t know exactly who his girlfriend was; he didn’t know about her flaws.

“Well, Signorina Miller, seeing as you and Eduardo are well acquainted, perhaps you can recruit him to help next year. You will be joining Signorina Franklin and me in putting on the play again next year, won’t you?”

“Well…I’m not sure.”

“The stress of production too much for you?”

Sarah scowled. “No…I….” She held her chin high. “I meant I’m not sure if I will be here, at St. Theresa’s, or even in Rome.”

Eduardo jerked, spun toward her, and furrowed his brows.

The motion pulled her off her balance again. She shuffled her skates, her right foot slid wide, and she went down, taking Eduardo with her. “I’m sorry.” She struggled to stand.

Eduardo helped her to her feet.

His expression was as cool as the ice. Sarah winced.

He turned to Mr. Moretti. “I promised Lucia a race. I suppose I should squeeze that in before too long.” He extended a hand to Sarah. “Would you like to join me?”

Sarah paused. Was he asking her to skate or something more? And if she said yes to more, did that oblige her to tell him her secret? She struggled to stay upright on her knocking knees. “You go ahead.” She dropped the connection with his gaze. “I think I’m safer on solid ground.”