| Romance Fiction posted September 14, 2025 | Chapters: |
...13 14 -15- 16... 
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Isabella Intrudes
A chapter in the book Yesterday's Dreams
By The Sea Chap 7
by Begin Again
The morning air smelled of coffee and warm cinnamon rolls. Rosa moved briskly between the kitchen and the table, humming as she set out cheese, olives, and a basket of rolls. Luca carried out a pitcher of juice, sleeves pushed up, hair still damp from washing.
"Sit, sit," Rosa urged, waving Anna into a chair beneath the pergola. "Eat first, then think. A stomach with no breakfast makes a head with no sense."
Anna managed to smile and broke a roll. She had slept little. Sophia's words had chased her through the night, waking her again and again. She kept hearing them — One child, I will hide in the wall — the other I must carry with me. Even here in the bright courtyard, the lines clung to her.
The gate creaked. Isabella swept in, bright in a green dress, her scarf knotted just so at her throat, a folded program fluttering in her hand.
"Luca!" she sang out, her smile wide. "Ah, my handsome date. I came to remind your mother to make sure you wear your very best this evening — not that you don't always look scrumptious." She slipped her arm through his and leaned close, lashes lowering as she pinched his cheek with playful boldness. "Almost good enough to eat."
Rosa clucked her tongue, swatting the air with her towel. "Isabella! Such forwardness at the breakfast table. Show more respect."
Isabella only laughed, tossing her scarf back over her shoulder. "Oh, Rosa, you know Luca and I have been inseparable since we were small children. He's used to me. Aren't you, Luca?"
Luca gave a thin, uneasy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We had a date?" he asked, trying for lightness.
Isabella gasped and swatted his arm. "Don't tease me! The galleria, remember? I told you weeks ago." She tucked the program into his hand and pressed close, again. "You promised."
Rosa clapped her hands together, delighted. "Perfect! Anna should go too. She would enjoy Sicilian art."
Isabella's smile cooled, though her tone stayed sweet. "Ah, che peccato. What a pity. It's sold out. Every ticket is gone. My aunt had to call in many favors just to secure mine." She turned toward Anna with a smile that was as sweet as honey. "It would have been educational for you, Americana. But another time, perhaps."
She squeezed Luca's arm, her voice dropping just enough for Anna to feel shut out. "Besides, Luca and I already know the routine, don't we? Sempre insieme. Always together."
Anna lowered her gaze to her plate, toying with a piece of cheese.
"It's true, I did agree," Luca said, uncomfortable. "I'd forgotten the date." He glanced at Anna, apology flickering in his eyes.
"Forgotten?" Isabella tipped her head, playful again. "You'd better not have. I'd never forgive you." With a final smile — more pointed than warm — she glided out through the gate, her perfume lingering in the air.
Luca stayed where he was, rubbing the back of his neck. "She can be a bit dramatic. Don't take her too seriously."
Anna folded her napkin, keeping her tone even. "I'm a houseguest, Luca. Not someone you have to tend to all the time. Of course, you have plans with Isabella. It's obvious the two of you are close."
He blinked. "It's not —"
But Anna was already rising, carrying her cup toward the kitchen. "Really, you don't need to explain. Enjoy your evening."
Inside, she set the cup down too hard. Rosa hummed at the sink, rinsing plates.
"I should probably call my mother," Anna murmured, more to the counter than to anyone.
Rosa glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward the alcove by the stairs. "If you need to call home, use the house phone. It is stubborn, but it works."
"Grazie." Anna crossed to the alcove and lifted the receiver. The coiled cord stretched as she dialed. It rang and rang.
"Hello." Margaret's voice sounded tired and sharp.
"Mom, it's Anna. Did I wake you?"
"Anna! Do you know what time it is here? It's the middle of the night."
"I'm sorry," Anna blurted. "I didn't think. I just needed to call." She gripped the receiver. "Do you remember the carved horse in Grandma's curio cabinet? I saw one here that looks like it. It made me think of her."
"Anna, honestly." Margaret's voice tightened. "There you go again, chasing old things. You need to stop rummaging in the past and deal with life today."
"I was only trying to tell you — I found this journal and —"
"A journal?" The word landed like a gavel. "Old scraps of paper won't change anything, Anna. Meanwhile, I'm left here with your grandmother's house, her papers, all of it while you play explorer."
Anna's throat tightened. "Mother —"
"David was here last night," Margaret went on, gathering steam. "His parents stopped in, too. They've already mentioned a possible wedding date and a reception hall. They're trying to move things forward, Anna, while you're off wherever you are."
Anna's pulse jumped. "A wedding date?"
"Don't sound so surprised. David is a good man from a good family. Everyone knows it."
"I'm not in love with him," Anna said. The words came out before she could soften them. "Don't you understand? I don't feel anything when I'm with him. Nothing. It's cold. We're friends, that's all."
"Enough." Margaret's voice snapped. "I will not listen to this foolishness. I raised you to be a proper lady. To make good choices. To honor your family. You will come home and do what's expected of you. Stop embarrassing yourself."
The line went quiet. Anna swallowed. "I'm sorry, Mom. I have to go." She set the receiver back in its cradle, her hand shaking.
When she returned to the kitchen, Rosa stood at the counter folding a towel, her face calm and her eyes on the task. She didn't pretend she hadn't heard. The house was small, and voices carried.
"I wasn't trying to listen," she said gently, "but the walls here are thin. A mother hears more than she intends." She touched Anna's arm. "Go to the garden, cara. Sometimes the air helps."
Anna nodded and slipped out through the side door.
*****
By late afternoon, the sun softened. The orange trees spread their shade across the bench. Anna sat with her bag at her feet, the journal inside it. She tried to sort her thoughts — Sophia's torn pages, the wooden horse, Isabella's bright claim on Luca, her mother's sharp voice, but they kept tumbling over one another.
"Child."
Anna looked up. Rosa stood in the archway, hands tucked into her apron. She came forward and eased herself down beside Anna. For a moment, she didn't speak. The two of them listened to the water spill into the stone basin.
"Is this why you come alone?" Rosa asked at last, her voice low.
Anna blinked. "Why I —?"
Rosa nodded, eyes warm but steady. "This man. The one you left in America."
Anna kept her eyes on her hands. "David. We were supposed to marry. I went along because it was easier. But it never felt right. He was cold, distant. I thought that was normal." She gestured at the courtyard. "Here it's different. People look you in the eye. I can breathe. I didn't know I needed space until I came."
Rosa listened without interrupting. When Anna finished, she set her hand over Anna's. "Perhaps that is true," she said softly. "But I think there is more."
She didn't press. She gave Anna's fingers a light, reassuring squeeze, then let her hand fall back to her lap.
The quiet stretched. A bird flitted through the branches above them; somewhere beyond the wall, a scooter coughed and moved on.
Rosa rose, smoothing her apron. "Come inside before the evening cool finds you," she said, gentle again. "We will make something sweet for after supper. Sugar helps a heart remember it is still beating."
Despite herself, Anna smiled. "Yes, Rosa."
As they reached the pergola, Luca stepped out of the kitchen with a small bowl of figs. "Mamma says sweetness helps," he said, setting one on Anna's plate. Their fingers brushed; he gave a quick, sheepish smile and looked away.
Rosa flicked her towel toward the door. "Inside, before the bees find us."
At the threshold, Anna paused and looked back at the bench, at the circle of shade beneath the oranges. The garden remained calm, as if nothing had happened at all.
But inside her, something had shifted. She could feel it. Not peace — she wasn't there yet — but a kind of calm that came from saying one true thing out loud. She had not come only for a holiday. She had come for answers.
Rosa bumped the door open with her hip. "Hai pensato abba stanza per oggi," she said, light but firm. "You have thought long enough today. Now we gather and be happy. Come — help me set the table."
"Yes," Anna said.
They went inside. Voices rose, plates clinked, and for a while she let the questions rest.
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