Page 40 of Lost Dreams

The following day, Aurora did the same. She avoided her phone. She avoided all thoughts of Kenny and Oren and Sebastian. She cooked and drank wine with her grandmother and then committed hours to the canvas. By the end of the week, she’d finished both paintings and needed to return to the art store to buy more supplies. And by the beginning of July, she had five paintings finished and ready—but ready for what? She didn’t know.

Aurora decided to show the paintings to her grandmother first. They were getting closer and closer, but that didn’t mean that Francesca wouldn’t give Aurora the gift of her honesty. If anything, Francesca’s honesty could be startling and biting, and Aurora knew she needed it if she was going to become a better artist. She’d dropped out of art school, but she still needed a discerning eye.

Aurora set up the paintings around her bedroom, then fetched her grandmother from the kitchen. Francesca wore a solemn look, as though she knew how essential this mission was. For a long time, she stood in Aurora’s room, assessing the paintings, with her arms folded. And then, she turned to look at Aurora and said, “These are extraordinary. I want to hang them in the dining room immediately. I’m calling a professional framer. In the meantime, consider how much you think each of them is worth.”

Aurora was flabbergasted. She watched as her grandmother left, already dialing someone to frame the paintings so that they could be hung within the week. Aurora felt as though she were floating off the ground.

The night before Aurora’s father, brother, and sister were meant to arrive, Francesca had three staff members arrange and hang six of Aurora’s paintings. When they were up, Aurora, Lorelei, Aunt Allegra, and Francesca stood all the way back in the corner to see how the colors worked together.

“It’s like listening to a symphony,” Aunt Allegra said.

Lorelei’s eyes shone with pride. When she turned to Aurora, she touched her shoulder. “I always knew you were an artist,” she said. “I always knew you would find your way back.”

20

After their long journey from Italy, it was up to Lorelei and Aurora to pick Roberto, Pino, and Nadia up from the airport. Behind the wheel of her father’s car, Lorelei felt shivery and alien, and her voice didn’t sound like her own. She wished she could project the kind of motherly authority her family needed. But what was someone supposed to do when they thought their marriage was falling apart?

Aurora kept adjusting her sunglasses and looking over at Lorelei, as though waiting for Lorelei to say what was going to happen next. But all Lorelei knew was that Roberto had something to tell them, something he hadn’t been honest about.

“Whatever happens,” Aurora said suddenly, surprising Lorelei, “we’re still a family.”

Lorelei’s heart leaped. She reached across the console and took her daughter’s hand. “We’re still a family,” she agreed.

She was surprised to find that she really believed it.

At the Nantucket Airport, Lorelei and Aurora waited in the car, watching as tourists streamed out, wheeling their suitcases and waving to family members and friends in expensive cars. It was hard to believe that Lorelei had been back in Nantucket for most of the year, that her life in Rome now felt like an impossibility, like something that had happened to somebody else.

But now, her handsome Roman husband and two of her children came through the sliding door. Lorelei got out of the car and threw her arms around Nadia first, who was dressed so sensibly, her hair straightened, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Pino took out his earbuds and hugged her, too. “Mama, ciao,” he said.

“Oh, I missed you,” Lorelei said.

Roberto stood off to the side, his shoulders hunched, as though he didn’t want to be touched. Lorelei told herself not to hug him. She told herself that not only did he not want to, but he didn’t deserve it. “How was the trip?” she asked, taking his suitcase and putting it in the trunk.

“Relatively fine,” Roberto said. “Some turbulence.”

Lorelei nodded. It was a strangely normal exchange.

It occurred to her, as they drove back to the White Oak Lodge, that people talked about inane things all the time, no matter what else was going on. During World War II, people had probably still discussed the weather. They’d probably still done the dishes and the laundry.

Life went on despite everything.

When Lorelei cut the engine in the parking lot of the White Oak Lodge, the five of them sat quietly for a moment. Lorelei wanted to know the logistics. She wanted to know when Roberto planned to tell them whatever it was he needed to say.

“You must be tired,” she said.

“I’m not,” Pino said.

“Me neither,” Nadia offered.

Aurora was quiet, as was Roberto.

“I couldn’t arrange for the suite like last time,” Lorelei said, getting out of the car. She’d booked a single room for Roberto, thinking that he wanted space from her. She’d tell him that later.

“That’s fine,” Roberto said. “We don’t need the suite. It’s so much space.”

Lorelei and Aurora helped them take their bags into the family apartment. Pino had his own room, while Nadia was going to share with Aurora for the week. Lorelei studied her daughters’ faces, wondering if they were finally going to bond. It had never happened before, which felt sad for Lorelei. After all, Lorelei’s best friend was her sister, Allegra. She couldn’t imagine life without her.

“Let’s have a family meeting in an hour,” Roberto suggested, rubbing the back of his neck.