Chapter 6 - The Woman at the Breakfast Table
Six months later, I walked into the kitchen and found Elena standing on a chair.
“What are you doing?”
She looked down.
“Don't yell.”
“I'm not yelling.”
“You're using the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The mafia voice.”
I stared at her.
From the breakfast table, Leo whispered:
“The scary one.”
Matteo nodded.
I looked at my sons.
“Traitors.”
They laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound still surprised me.
Elena reached higher toward a cabinet.
“What are you looking for?”
“Pancake flour.”
“Get down.”
“I almost have it.”
“Elena.”
She turned.
The chair wobbled.
I caught her around the waist.
For one strange second, neither of us moved.
Her hands rested against my shoulders.
Mine were around her waist.
The twins became suspiciously silent.
Elena slowly looked toward them.
Matteo was grinning.
Leo whispered something into his brother's ear.
I released Elena.
“Flour is in the pantry.”
She straightened her apron.
“I knew that.”
“You were searching the wrong cabinet.”
“I was testing you.”
“Of course.”
She climbed down.
Then Matteo asked:
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“Is Elena still our maid?”
Elena froze.
I looked at her.
“I suppose that's her decision.”
Leo frowned.
“She can't leave.”
The room became quiet.
Elena crouched beside him.
“Why would I leave?”
“Everybody leaves.”
Four words.
That was all.
Elena's expression softened.
She touched his cheek.
“I'm having pancakes with you tomorrow morning.”
Leo considered this.
“And Tuesday?”
“Yes.”
“Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“Christmas?”
Elena glanced at me.
That answer was harder.
So I gave it for her.
“Especially Christmas.”
She looked up.
Something passed between us.
Something neither of us was ready to name.
But Matteo was.
He smiled.
“Papa likes Elena.”
“Eat your pancakes.”
“I don't have pancakes.”
I looked toward Elena.
She laughed.
May you like
And suddenly the enormous Moretti mansion didn't sound empty anymore.
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