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Chapter three

Isabelle

The sound of my mom and Tony laughing downstairs is the first thing I register when I slowly wake up. I’ve been enjoying the lazy mornings in the weeks that I’ve been here.

Tony’s back from spring training, and I have to admit, I like the guy.

When we met at their elopement, he was awkward as anything, clearly trying to make a good first impression with me.

I set him straight that as long as he treated my mom well, we’d be fine.

The smile he gave me told me I had nothing to worry about.

Mom told me in confidence that he’s always wanted to have kids, so he desperately wants to do right by me, even if I am a fully grown adult.

I might not need a second father figure, but it’s sweet how he cares.

We’re still getting to know each other, and I’m looking forward to having some time with him as well as my mom.

There’s probably a close to ten-year age gap between them, and his gruff exterior is the opposite of her bubbly one, but it’s obvious to anyone who knows them that they’re happy together.

Even if it does get a little uncomfortable being around them sometimes. They’ve only been married a couple of months and are very much still in the honeymoon phase. Which means lots of hugging, and kissing, and giggling.

So yeah, it’s uncomfortable. Because deep inside of me, I’m just a teeny bit jealous. My dating life has been fairly nonexistent for the last several years. No one can come close to making me feel the way Kai did. I get lonely, sure, but that’s easier to handle than a string of meaningless dates.

I drag myself out of bed and pull a sweater on over my pajama top before stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen. Only to walk in on my mom and Tony kissing. I really shouldn’t be surprised by this anymore, yet each morning, I have been.

“Oh, sorry.” I whirl around.

“Honey, it’s fine.” Mom laughs. “It’s not like you’re a kid anymore, you know what grown-ups in love do.”

I arch my brow at her. “That doesn’t mean I need to walk in on it before I’m caffeinated in the morning.”

“Sorry, Isabelle,” Tony answers in his gruff voice as he picks up a travel mug full of coffee. “At least now that the season is about to start I won’t be home all the time.” He winks. “You won’t have to walk in on us every morning.”

Mom gives a girlish giggle. “Just the mornings that he’s home. You’re going to have to be okay with a little kissing, Belles.” She reaches around and grabs Tony’s butt, making me roll my eyes. “I’m a married lady now.”

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, and the dreamy smile on my mom’s face is sweet to see. She deserves to be loved by a good man, more than anyone else.

I make myself busy pouring my own cup of coffee while Mom walks Tony to the door and they say goodbye. Anything to avoid thinking about the fact that he’s going to a stadium full of baseball players.

It’s the coward's route, I know, burying my head in the sand when it comes to baseball, and one player in particular. And the really annoying part is, I love the sport. Correction: l loved the sport.

But when I ended things with Kai eight years ago, I did more than just break his — and my — heart.

I shattered it. Destroyed the bond we had, the one that sometimes felt deeper than just love.

He was the one man who came close to making me want to throw my mother’s caution to the wind and let love lead my life instead of figuring it out for myself first.

And he was a damn good baseball player, who is most likely playing in the big leagues now. Not that I’d know, since I’ve never once looked him up, too afraid of what I might see.

I still miss him even now, after all this time.

As if I’ve summoned him with nothing more than a fleeting thought, my mind conjures a memory of him, the day I left for Italy.

Hugging me in the airport, holding me in his strong arms that made me feel safer than anywhere else.

He didn’t hug me goodbye as if it was the last time he’d ever see me.

He hugged me like he loved me and supported me in doing what I needed to do, but was confident I would come back.

That’s just how he was. Confident, self-assured, and so freaking handsome. He knew what his life would look like, and he was certain I would be with him through it all.

Mom comes back to the kitchen, thankfully pulling me out of my dangerous memories, and back to my Kai-free reality.

“Should we try that trattoria for lunch today?” she asks happily, still smiling that dreamy, in-love smile.

I muster up a smile of my own. It’s not her fault I let myself go down the painful path of thinking about Kai. “That sounds great. I was going to hit the pool for a swim first, what time do you want to leave?”

“Whenever you get back. I’ve got plenty to work on here.”

“Okay.” I close the distance between us and pull her in for a firm hug. Her arms instantly wrap around me in return. “Hey, I hope you know I’m happy for you, Mom. And I’m really glad I’m here. Gross PDAs and all.”

I feel her body shake with laughter. “I refuse to apologize for the PDA, but I will say I’m also so happy you’re home.”

I step back. “I’ll see you later.” Pivoting on my foot, I head back to the guest bedroom I’ve taken over for my stay, and quickly gather my gear for the pool.

A short while later, I slide into the water at the local aquatic center, take a deep breath, and push off from the wall. I swim underwater for almost the entire length, letting the sensations of being under the surface settle me.

I really am happy for my mom. And okay, fine, more than a teeny bit jealous. I miss having a person in my life that could make me smile and laugh like that. I might not regret my choice to move to Italy, but I do regret that in doing so, it cost me the man I loved.

An hour later, I’m back at the house, and after I take a quick shower, we head out. We fill the quick drive to the restaurant with chatter, mostly Mom filling me in on what she’s working on at the interior design company where she’s a partner.

“Oh, Tony’s going to bring you home a shirt to wear tomorrow.”

I turn my head from where I was looking out the window. “What’s tomorrow?”

She glances over at me quickly with an excited smile. “It’s the Tridents’ Family Day. They do this big barbecue every year before the season opener. He won’t admit it, but I think Tony’s really excited we’ll both be there with him this year. I went last year, and it was so fun.”

Right. Shit. She has mentioned this to me before, but I guess my brain ignored it.

I should’ve told Mom about Kai a long time ago. Or at the very least, told her I wasn’t a fan of baseball anymore so she’d stop being so enthusiastic about how Tony and I could “bond over our love of the game.”

But I never said anything, eight years ago or now. I’m not sure why, really. There was no need to keep things a secret, except for the fact that in college, Mom probably would’ve lectured me about focusing on school and my future, not boys.

But once I moved to Italy, I could’ve told her about the boy I left behind whose heart I broke. Yet, for some reason, I didn’t. I kept that pain to myself for eight years. Which is why she has no clue that going to a baseball stadium is not high on my list of things I want to do.

I’m saved from further conversation about the Tridents, or Family Day, by our arrival at the trattoria.

“I’ve driven past Piatti so many times and always wanted to try it.

I’m excited we’re here,” Mom says as we pull into the half-full parking lot.

There’s an outdoor patio with covered tables, but it’s a dreary, wet day, so no one’s outside.

I follow her in the door, and am immediately hit with the familiar, comforting smells of garlic, basil, and best of all — fresh bread.

The interior is the perfect combination of classy and comfortable, with plants everywhere, warm-toned colours, and cozy booths tucked along the walls with just the right amount of tables in the center.

My experienced eye takes it all in, as well as the staff bustling about with smiles on their faces.

All the guests look happy and well-fed. Exactly how a successful restaurant should be run.

My stomach lets out a rumble, on cue. “Sorry, I worked up an appetite swimming.” I clutch my midsection.

Mom just gives me a knowing smile. “You were always ravenous after swim practice. Remember that diner we’d go to in downtown Calgary for burgers and shakes after a competition?”

I smile back. “Yep, I’m still a sucker for cookies and cream milkshakes.”

She threads her arm in mine while we follow the hostess to a table. “We have a lot of special memories.”

I squeeze her arm back. “We can make more.”

Once we’re seated, and our server has delivered the house-made focaccia bread and olive oil to dip it in, I wait for the inevitable.

“I could see you running a place like this eventually. I’d come for lunch every single day.”

Closing my eyes, I count to three before answering. “Mom. I’m going back to Italy. They need me there when the restaurant reopens.”

Mom lifts her hands up in defense. “I know, I know, but you can’t blame me for trying. I think you’d love it here, that’s all. The ocean, the mountains, the city, it’s all so vibrant. And I’m sure you could find a job easily.”

I hold back my sigh. This is, by my count, the third time she’s said something similar since I’ve arrived in Vancouver. “I’m sure I would love it here. In fact, I’m sure I will love it” — her face brightens and I hate that I have to continue — “every time I come to visit you.”

Sure enough, her face falls slightly. I reach over the table and cover her hand in mine. “And I will be back to visit. Promise.”

That earns me a watery smile, just in time for our food to arrive.

Thank God for small mercies.

And carbs.