Francesca's Kitchen (22 page)

“H
ey, Frannie,” said a surprised Peg. “What are you doing here at this hour on a Wednesday afternoon? Aren't you supposed to be working?”

It was two weeks later. For the past few days, Francesca had been hanging around the house, restless and bored. She had come to the library as much for the change of scenery as to pick out some new books to keep her occupied.

“Winter vacation,” she said ruefully as she stepped into the library's computer room to chat with her friends. “The kids are out of school, and the mother took the week off from work.”

“Then why are you looking like a mope?” said Connie, who was installed at her usual post on the computer next to Peg's.

“Really,” added Natalie, turning away from her own monitor. “You think you'd be happy getting a week off for yourself.”

“Eh, I guess you're right,” agreed Francesca with a shrug, “You think I would be, but…”

“But now you don't know what to do with yourself, do you?” Peg finished for her.

“
Mannagia
, I'm going crazy!” cried Francesca. “I don't know what's the matter with me.”

It was true. Without fully realizing it, Francesca had built the entirety of her weekdays around the few hours she spent with Will and Penny each afternoon. Those hours had become for her the center of gravity, holding everything else in place. They were the best part of her day, and she looked forward to them with great anticipation. Now, with nothing on which to focus her energies, Francesca's days suddenly lost their shape. Even though she knew it was for only a single week, she felt completely out of sorts, like the wind had gone out of her sails and she was drifting rudderless again.

“I think what you need is a hobby,” Connie kidded her.

“Maybe I should take up surfing on the computer, like you three,” griped Francesca.

“It's called surfing the Web, Frannie,” Peg corrected her.

“Whatever.”

“Never mind that,” said Natalie. “Tell us about the kids. How's it been going?”

“Ayyy, what's to tell?” said Francesca, hesitant at first to say too much. “I go to the house, the kids come home from school, I wait until the mother comes home from work, and then I go back home again.”

“Oh, come on,” Connie urged her. “You can do better than that. You can't tell me that all you do is just sit there twiddling your thumbs all afternoon while you wait for the mother to come home.”

“Well, not exactly,” admitted Francesca.

It required but a little further prodding from her friends to start Francesca talking about her days looking after Penny and Will. She was discreet enough not to go into too much personal detail about the little family, for that's the kind of person Francesca was, but instead she told them of the ups and downs she had experienced getting to know the two children since first coming to their house, and the wonderful feeling it gave her to see that they and their mother were all finally starting to warm up to her. Her face beamed as she recounted some of the precious moments that had already passed between them, and even the recent confrontation about the gingerbread made for a pleasant reminiscence. As expected, Peg reacted unfavorably to the news that Francesca had been baking treats and occasionally cooking dinner for the children, and worse, straightening up their bedrooms—and not charging the mother extra! Just the same, as Francesca rambled on, she caught a faint hint of envy in her friend's eyes. She saw it, in fact, on all their faces.

“So anyway,” sighed Francesca when she finished telling her little tale, “I guess things have gone pretty well—better, really, than I had expected. I just don't understand why I feel so inside out today.”

Her three friends looked at one another and exchanged knowing smiles.

“Can't you guess what it is?” said Natalie.

“Guess what?” said Francesca innocently.

“It's easy,” said Connie. “Go ahead. It's okay. I'd probably feel the same way if I were in your shoes. Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

With a kind grin, Peg leaned over and patted Francesca on the shoulder.

“Frannie, it's as plain as the nose on your face, what's bothering you,” she said. “Face it. You miss them.”

It was small consolation to Francesca to realize that Peg was perfectly correct, and later, after she had said her good-byes and checked out her books, she left the library feeling just as moody and irritable as she had when she first arrived. That night, home alone once again, Francesca tried calling Rosie and Alice while heating up some leftover soup for her supper, but no one was home at either house—or at least, no one was picking up when she left her messages on their answering machines. When it was sufficiently warmed, Francesca poured the soup into a bowl and brought it into the den.

While she sat on the couch and ate her soup, Francesca scrolled through the channels, trying to find something to distract her, but soon grew impatient with the long list of inane shows on offer. What was the use, she wondered, of having so many cable channels, when there was almost never a single show on any of them worth watching? Disgusted, she turned off the television, tossed the remote control aside, and ate the rest of her soup in silence.

Afterwards, when she brought the bowl into the kitchen and was rinsing it out in the sink, Francesca gazed out the back window into the night. Across the city, the rising moon hovered low over the horizon, struggling to pull itself free from the surrounding dark clouds that partially obscured its orange glow. It was an eerie, beautiful sight, one that might ordinarily have truly captivated her. On this night, however, it did little to draw Francesca out of the doldrums. With no other remedy for them coming to mind, she decided that the only thing left to do was to get in bed early and take a look at the books she had checked out of the library. One, a history of early Italian Renaissance art, had looked reasonably interesting. Perhaps spending a few minutes with Giotto and the rest of them would help her drift off to sleep. And so, with a nod to the heavens, Francesca dropped the bowl into the dish drainer, headed out of the kitchen, and trudged upstairs to her room.

Monday, she reflected, seemed as far away as the moon.

I
f she could have arranged things her way, Loretta would have loved to take Penny and Will on vacation to Florida, or Bermuda, or any warm destination for that matter, just to escape the New England cold for a few precious days. Winter had long ago worn out its welcome with her. Unfortunately, airfares, hotels, rental cars, and expensive restaurants simply weren't accounted for in her budget that winter. As it was, she felt lucky simply to know that she had enough money on hand to pay that month's gas and electric bills.

Nonetheless, despite the lack of a travel allowance, Loretta had managed to keep the kids entertained for the first few days of their vacation week. In truth, she had never taken them to a resort of any kind, so it wasn't something that they missed. The two were content with making little day trips here and there, just to get out of the house. For Loretta, it was a treat just to be able to sleep in as late as she wanted in the morning, without worrying about hustling everyone out the door to school in a frenzy.

Come Thursday, though, the natives had grown a bit restless. Having already made excursions to the Newport mansions, the children's museum in the city, a Providence Bruins hockey game, and a concert at the Performing Arts Center, Loretta had run short of novel ideas to keep Penny and Will occupied. With nothing particular on the agenda, the day was spent primarily hanging around the house, watching old movies on the television.

“I'm bored,” Penny announced late in the afternoon.

She was sitting sideways in the big upholstered chair adjacent to the couch. Her legs drooping lazily over one puffy arm and her head resting back against the other, she struck a languid pose. Her brother, meanwhile, was lying on the floor, his chin propped on his hands. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling.

“Me too,” he said with a yawn.

“It's not fatal, you know,” said their mother, who was only too content to stay sitting comfortably at the end of the couch with her legs curled up under a blanket while she read the newspaper. “The two of you could try something different, like maybe reading a book.”

“Please, Mom,” sighed her son. “We're on vacation, you know.”

“Oh, right, I'm sorry,” said Loretta, flipping to the next page of the newspaper. “What on earth could I have been thinking?”

“Come on, Mom,” lamented Penny. “It's getting dark, and we haven't done anything fun all day.”

“I'm open to suggestions.”

“How about we go to the movies?” offered Will.

“You've been watching movies all day long.”

“Then how about skating?” said Penny. “We haven't done that yet this week.”

“Well, it's a little late for that today,” replied her mother, tucking the blanket more tightly about her legs. She knew full well, of course, that in the winter, people skated under the lights all the time at night at the outdoor rink downtown, but she was feeling too warm and comfortable to budge. “What do you say we go tomorrow morning?”

“I guess,” said her daughter, giving a heart-wrenching sigh, as if the agony of having nothing in particular to do at the moment was draining the very life from her.

“What about dinner?” said Will, moving to a subject near and dear to his heart. “I'm getting hungry. What are we having tonight?”

“I haven't made up my mind yet,” Loretta told him.

“I wonder what Mrs. C is making for dinner tonight,” said Penny, staring absentmindedly into space.

Loretta put the newspaper aside and gazed at her daughter for a few moments. “Now, what makes you wonder about that?” she asked her.

“Nothing,” shrugged Penny. “I was just thinking about her today, that's all.”

“That's funny. I was thinking about her too,” said Will. “It's been kind of weird not having her here every day, hasn't it?”

“I know,” agreed Penny. “I mean, sometimes Mrs. C does get on my nerves, but then other times, I don't know. It's kind of nice to have her here.”

“Especially when she makes her spaghetti and meatballs,” mused Will, “or when she bakes one of her cakes.”

Loretta smiled, for she understood how the children felt. She herself had to admit that things around the house had not seemed quite the same without their nanny's daily visits. If nothing else, the burgeoning pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and the untidy state of affairs in the rest of the house were evidence enough of that. Discipline in the ranks had taken a decided fall in her absence. But Loretta knew there was more to it than just the decline of their housekeeping.

“Well, she's a nice person,” she said after a time, “and I guess we've all gotten used to having her around, looking after us.”

“Hey, I know what to do,” enthused Will. “Why don't we call her up and ask her to come over and cook us dinner?”

“Don't be an idiot,” huffed his sister.

“Why not?” her brother persisted. “What do you think, Mom?”

“Well,” Loretta chuckled, “I don't think that would be quite fair to Mrs. Campanile, do you? After all, it's her vacation week too.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” sulked Will. “It was just an idea.”

Loretta turned her attention back to the newspaper and was beginning to read once more, when a different plan suddenly popped into her mind. She set the paper aside once more and looked back toward the kitchen with a thoughtful gaze. The more she considered it, the warmer it made her feel inside. The only question was, could she pull it off?

“What's the matter?” asked Penny.

“Oh, nothing,” said her mother, drumming her fingers on her chin. “It's just that I suddenly had a little idea of my own about what to do tomorrow.”

“But what about dinner tonight?” pressed Will. “I'm starving.”

“First we need to go to the market,” said Loretta. “Then later, we'll order out some Chinese. How's that sound?”

“Hooray!” cried Will.

“And tomorrow?” asked Penny.

“Well,” said their mother, leaning closer with a gleam in her eye, as if she were drawing them into some playful conspiracy, “for tomorrow, here's what I had in mind…”

F
rancesca's delight knew no bounds when she received Loretta's call on Thursday night. Will and Penny wanted to go skating Friday morning, Loretta explained when Francesca answered the phone, but they were all wondering—if she didn't already have plans, of course—if she would be interested in spending the rest of the day with them, just knocking around the city for a few hours, doing whatever, and perhaps having dinner together later in the afternoon.

There was, of course, no need to ask twice. Francesca's sole condition to saying yes to the proposal was that they allow her to come along and watch while they skated. She did not want to miss out on a minute of the fun, no matter how cold it might be in the morning. Her terms were more than acceptable to Loretta and the children, and arrangements were happily set in place for their outing.

Will and Penny were sitting on the front porch with their skates slung over their shoulders, both of them raring to go, when Francesca arrived at their house the next morning at precisely ten-thirty, as planned. A few moments later, their mother bustled out the door, carrying her own skates. The four of them piled into Loretta's car, everyone talking and laughing at once, and soon they were on their way.

It was a bright, chilly morning when Loretta and the children took to the ice with the rest of the colorful crowd already in attendance. The lively music blared from the speakers, and the skaters went round and round, as a brisk breeze blew across Kennedy Plaza, where the rink was nestled at the foot of Providence's fledgling skyline. Eschewing the little shed by the rink, where she might have stayed perfectly warm, Francesca instead stood by the ice's edge, smiling and waving to Will and Penny as they called out, “Hi, Mrs. C!” each time they skated by. Loretta, she discovered, much to her surprise, was a marvelous skater. Seemingly with no more effort than a feather riding on the wind, she glided about the ice graceful as a swan, carving one elegant turn after the other as she went. Penny exhibited much the same serene confidence on the ice, and skated easily along, doing her best to follow her mother's lead.

Will, on the other hand, was something of a calamity on skates, and Francesca made the sign of the cross as she watched him tear about. Try as he might to stay upright, the young boy spent almost as much time picking himself up off the ice as he did skating on it. His struggles did little, however, to curb his enthusiasm for speed. Had Loretta not made both him and his sister wear helmets, Francesca would have spent the majority of their time there with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, praying Hail Marys for the boy.

“Did you see us out there?” gushed Will, his cheeks a bright red, when they finally came off the ice.

“Yes, I did,” Francesca assured him. “Very impressive. I was…amazed…at how you skate.”

“Did you see me too?” said Penny eagerly.

“Of course,” Francesca told the girl. “You looked like a ballerina out there. I bet one day you'll be a beautiful figure skater, maybe in the Olympics.”

“How about me?” cried Will.

“Oh, and I think someday
you're
going to be a great hockey player. You really like to throw yourself around on the ice.”

Both children beamed with pride.

“So,” said Francesca, giving their mother a wink, “where to next?”

After dropping their skates off at the car, a unanimous vote resulted in the group repairing to the warm confines of the Providence Place Mall, just a few steps away, to grab a bite for lunch in the food court. As they strolled up the hill to the mall, the majestic State House looming above them, Francesca looked out at Waterplace Park, on the banks of the river just below. Come the warm weather, the little amphitheater would be teeming with people soaking up the sun or enjoying one of the many outdoor performances held there; at night, the river would be aglow with fiery braziers, the light from their flames dancing across the water, while gondoliers skimmed quietly by in their long, elegant boats. For now, though, it was all deserted, the scenes she envisioned asleep like perennials in a snow-covered flower bed, waiting for their chance to bloom again.

Penny and Will, meanwhile, were in high spirits, the two of them gabbing nonstop the whole time, until they finally came to the mall. Loretta admonished them more than once to stop and take a breath, so that someone else might get a word in edgewise, but to little effect. They were too excited and having much too good a time. Francesca could only laugh, for the two reminded her of her own children and grandchildren. Kids, she marveled, were much the same the world over. It didn't take nearly so much to make them happy as people often thought. In her experience, just spending time together and doing simple things with those who loved them was usually more than enough.

After lunch, the four strolled about the lovely, three-tiered mall, pausing now and then to peek inside the stores. Though she was thoroughly enjoying herself, Francesca could not help but fret about Penny and Will, who insisted on always gleefully rushing ahead of them. With Loretta's permission, Francesca had promised to buy them each a little gift if they saw something they liked, and so the two were eagerly scavenging about to see what they could find. Will soon made his choice when, out on the main floor, they came across a man demonstrating little windup helicopters that soared up into the air, only to circle right back and glide to an easy landing. Penny, however, was not having any luck, and she pouted in growing frustration.

At seeing an empty bench up ahead, Loretta and Francesca stopped to take a break. While the two adults sat and chatted, Penny continued her search, with Will in tow. In truth, her brother was too absorbed in his new helicopter to be of much help, but their mother insisted they stay together and not roam too far. Just the same, the two were soon lost from sight. When a few minutes passed without their reappearance, Francesca began to worry. Even Loretta, who to this point had struck a more casual attitude about their wanderings, looked anxious. They were just gathering their things together to go look for the children when Penny suddenly emerged from the crowd with Will close behind, still ogling his helicopter. Penny was all smiles when she approached.

“There you are,” said Loretta, sounding much relieved. “I thought I told you two to stay close.”

“Sorry, Mom,” said the young girl, bubbling with excitement, “but I found something. I know I can't have it today, but I thought I would show it to you anyway.”

“What is it?” asked Francesca.

Just then, the young girl did something quite unexpected. Without the least hesitation, she reached out and took Francesca by the hand. It was the simplest of gestures, an everyday occurrence by anyone's definition, and an onlooker would have thought nothing of it. Francesca, though, knew better. At the touch of the child's hand, the old woman felt her heart melt.

“Come on,” Penny told her eagerly, giving her a tug. “I'll show you and Mom.”

Francesca happily let herself be pulled up and guided away by the young girl. She had no idea of where she and Loretta were being led, but it mattered little, for she would not have traded that moment for all the treasure in the world.

“Here it is!” cried Penny, leading them to the young ladies' section of a women's boutique. There, displayed on a mannequin, was an adorable blue gown with fanciful lace sleeves and a delicate floral pattern stitched into the collar. The young girl stood there gazing at the lovely dress with dreamy, longing eyes. “Isn't it beautiful?” she sighed.

Loretta and Francesca cooed in agreement.

“Wonderful,” muttered Will, who was not so impressed with the find.

“Oh, my God, you'd look just like a little princess in that dress,” gushed Francesca, not hearing the boy.

“Wouldn't she?” nodded Loretta.

“That's what I thought,” said Penny with another sigh and a demure shrug of her shoulders. “I know I can't get it now,” she started to say, glancing at them with eyes that said she hoped she was wrong.

“Well, not today,” gulped her mother, after sneaking a peek at the price tag.

Penny curled up her bottom lip, feigning extreme sorrow, and let her shoulders droop back down. “Oh, well,” she said wistfully. “I didn't think so. Maybe someday.”

“Someday,” agreed Francesca, giving the girl's hand a little squeeze.

In the end, Francesca and Loretta helped Penny pick out a pretty little knit tam and matching scarf that happened to be on sale. The distraction of trying them on and looking at herself in the mirror while Francesca and her mother fussed over her was enough to make the young girl forget about the dress. Penny, in fact, was so pleased with the two items that she insisted on putting them on and wearing them the rest of the afternoon when they left the mall.

In no particular hurry to go straight home just yet, Loretta instead took them all on a little driving tour of Providence, letting Francesca act as guide. It had been a very long time indeed since Francesca had last gone for a ride around her hometown just for fun, and she loved every minute of it. The old woman was proud of her little city, and she enjoyed pointing out for the children its historical landmarks, telling stories about its people and places, and describing how very much things had changed downtown since she had been a little girl. As they went along, it seemed to Francesca that, around every corner, she would see something that awoke in her one memory or another of the old days.

“There's where Mom works!” the children cried when Loretta drove them past the building that housed the offices of Pace, Sotheby, and Grant.

It surprised no one, least of all herself, that Francesca had a story to tell about the quaint, dignified structure.

Eventually, their travels brought them across the river and up the hill past the Rhode Island School of Design and Brown University, on the city's fashionable East Side. This was a particular pleasure for Francesca, for when they were young, she and Leo had often taken drives along the area's tree-lined avenues and pleasant boulevards, daydreaming about what it would be like to live in any one of its stately brick homes. Loretta drove aimlessly about the lovely neighborhoods, pausing now and then to gawk at some of the more beautiful houses, until they came to Prospect Park. There, Loretta pulled the car over, and they all got out to have a look at the nice view it afforded of the city. With her camera in hand, Loretta led them down to the edge of the park, where she snapped a picture of Francesca and the children in front of the statue of Roger Williams, Providence's venerable founder, who kept watch over the city below. It was a perfect shot, but there was no time for them to linger and enjoy the vista. By then, the late afternoon wind had picked up considerably, and she hustled everyone back into the car, to get out of the cold.

When at last they returned home, the children, and even Loretta, seemed to be bubbling with eager anticipation as they all hurried out of the car and up the walk to the front porch. Francesca eyed the three with interest, wondering just exactly what they were up to, as Loretta fumbled with the keys to the door.

“Come on, Mom, hurry up,” Penny urged her.

“Wait till you see the surprise we have for you!” said Will, who was instantly shushed by his mother and sister.

Her curiosity sufficiently piqued, Francesca followed them inside to the warmth of the house.

“Why don't you just sit in the living room and relax for a couple of minutes, maybe watch a little TV?” suggested Loretta before Francesca had a chance to follow her to the kitchen. “I'll be right back.”

At seeing the earnest look in the young woman's eyes, Francesca did as she was told and dutifully settled onto the couch, wondering all the while just what sort of surprise Loretta and the kids had in store for her. As she sat there with Penny and Will, both of whom seemed to be doing their best to occupy her attention, Francesca glanced out the front window, her thoughts turning to dinner. It was growing late in the afternoon—the sun had already dipped behind the roofs of the houses across the street—but no one had yet made mention of any plans to order out a meal or go to a restaurant. This struck her as a bit curious, as did the clattering of pots and pans and utensils, the opening and closing of the refrigerator door, and the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. Looking about, she also happened to notice that the coffee table was remarkably free of clutter. The entire living room, in fact, appeared to be quite spic and span. Francesca puzzled over just what exactly was going on, until a few minutes later, when she detected a very familiar aroma in the air.

“Okay,” called Loretta, just at that exact moment. “Bring her in!”

“Now close your eyes,” said Penny when Francesca got to her feet. The girl came to the old woman's side and took her hand.

“And no peeking,” added Will, taking the other.

Flanked by the two children, Francesca let them guide her to the kitchen. “Okay,” they both cried, “open them!”

Francesca could scarcely believe what she saw when she opened her eyes. The entire kitchen was immaculate, not a single dirty dish in the sink nor a stray scrap of paper or homework assignment to be found anywhere. The table was beautifully set with four settings atop a white linen cloth. A pair of candles stood at the center, the light from their flames glistening across the glasses and silverware.

“Oh, my,” she exclaimed, impressed beyond words. “Well, I see that you three have been very busy.”

“Everybody pitched in,” said Loretta, who was standing with arms crossed in front of the stove, smiling from ear to ear.

“And what's for dinner, might I ask?” said Francesca, craning her neck to get a glimpse of what was behind the young woman.

“Ta dah!” announced Loretta, whipping the cover off one of the two pots on the stove to reveal the bubbling tomato sauce within. “I made it this morning,” she gushed, almost giddy with excitement. “I followed your recipe exactly. It was so easy! And look,” she joked, uncovering the other pot, “I'm even boiling water for the spaghetti! Can you believe it? And I bought some nice Romano cheese to put on it, because I know you like that. And I've also got some garlic bread warming up in the oven. I have to admit, I cheated on that one. I bought it frozen at the market last night. But it smells good, doesn't it? And I've got some ice cream in the freezer for dessert. I didn't have time to bake a cake. Maybe next time. Anyway, I've almost got the salad done, then I just have to throw the spaghetti into the water, and dinner will be all ready!”