Page 2 of Lost Dreams

But his eyes seemed to be a great distance away. It was like he couldn’t see the view, nor hear her. She let her hand drop from his.

Roberto walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, and Lorelei sat at the edge of the bed and tried not to think about how tired she was. She practiced her smile.

Downstairs, they found Francesca in the kitchen, speaking a funny mix of Italian and English with the others. At first, Lorelei thought they were only Alexander’s kids—Gwen, Conor, and Xander, all of whom now lived and went to high school here on the island.

“It’s so good to see you all again!” Lorelei said, speaking English for the first time in several hours.

And then, she realized someone else was in the kitchen, someone who absolutely shouldn’t have been there.

“Aurora?” Lorelei’s jaw dropped. Here she was, Lorelei and Roberto’s eldest daughter and their middle child, the twenty-two-year-old Aurora. Her dark hair hung in a glossy curtain down her back, and she wore jean shorts and a tube top that made her look endlessly American. Of course, her features were all Italian, as was the olive tint of her skin.

Aurora smiled and said in English, “Surprise?”

Roberto’s face echoed just as much shock as Lorelei felt. In Italian, he said, “What are you doing here?” Everything had been arranged. Their plan was that Aurora would travel in three days, that she’d fly with her brother, Pino, and sister, Nadia, and arrive just in time for the reopening party.

Aurora responded in English again, as though she wanted to throw English in her father’s face. “I wanted to come early.” She shrugged. “I loved our trip at Christmastime, and I wanted to spend more time with Grandma.”

“But what about university?” Roberto asked.

“I finished the semester early,” Aurora said. “I turned in my paper and decided to change my flight.”

“But why didn’t you tell us?” A wrinkle formed between Roberto’s eyebrows.

Francesca raised her arms. “It doesn’t matter! We’ve had a lovely time, haven’t we, darling?”

“We really have,” Aurora said, smiling beautifully. It was apparent how much she looked like her grandmother.

Roberto continued to frown, as though he couldn’t figure his daughter out. “And you passed all your classes?”

“Yes, Papa.” Aurora rolled her eyes. “Of course I did.”

“And you’re still on track to graduate in the fall?” Roberto continued.

Lorelei put a hand on Roberto’s back, praying he’d lighten up. It was clear that Aurora was fine, that she was flourishing here at the White Oak Lodge with her family. Roberto probably didn’t love that Aurora embraced her American roots so exuberantly. This was a rather new thing, something that Aurora was experimenting with. Privately, Lorelei thought it was sweet. It was like Aurora wanted to act out the American films she’d grown up watching.

Aurora left the kitchen with her cousins, leaving Francesca to cook and Roberto and Lorelei to sit on stools at the counter, sipping a wonderful red wine. Again, Francesca consoled Roberto, telling him, “Aurora was endlessly curious about this whole scandal with Tio Angelo and, of course, Jack’s return. She has a very creative mind. She wants to be in the mess of everything and figure it all out herself.”

Roberto rolled his shoulders back and glanced at Lorelei. “We’ve had many problems with her so-called creative mind over the years, Francesca. You know that.”

“She’s twenty-two,” Francesca told him. “She’s going to do what she wants to do, now. That’s the way it works.”

But Roberto looked troubled and gray-faced.

It didn’t do any good to explain this to Francesca, but the plan had already been set in stone, as far as Roberto was concerned. After Aurora’s final semester at business school, she would take over at the Sardinia restaurant, stepping into all managerial roles and ensuring that the place got off the ground and finally made the family some money. Finally made Roberto some money. Aurora had always been flighty and weightless and entirely too “free-spirited” for her own good, and Roberto was certain that business school and a powerful position at the restaurant would help.

Lorelei wasn’t so sure, but she never said so. Not to Roberto. Not to anyone.

After eating enormous platters of pasta complete with Francesca Whitmore’s should-have-been-world-famous sauce, Roberto went back to the suite to rest, leaving Lorelei alone with her mother. Lorelei knew better than to ever admit to her mother that Roberto was secretly jealous of Francesca’s cooking despite his years of training all over the world at various culinary institutions. It was true, though, that Lorelei preferred her mother’s cooking and always would. Lorelei cleaned the dishes, then poured them both second glasses of wine. Together, they went to the veranda, where they could see the sparkling ocean, the newly refurbished horse barn, the sweeping lawn, and more of the cousins, who were on the beach, bundled up against the sixty-degree temperatures. Aurora was with them, of course. Summer was coming up quickly, but Massachusetts still held tightly to its colder air.

“How are you feeling, Mama?” Lorelei asked, her heart ballooning with love for this woman. It had truly been harrowing to watch her get so sick.

Francesca’s smile waned the slightest bit. “It’s true what they’re saying,” she offered. “The cancer is gone from my body. I’m healed, or as healed as I can be for now. They’ll check back every six months or so. Nonstop tests, maybe for the rest of my life. Goodness.” She paused. “But it’s been a trying time for me. I’m sure you know I went to see my brother.”

Lorelei nodded and reached for her mother’s hand.

Francesca’s face was filled with shadows. “It is Angelo’s fault that I lost my family. It is his fault that Jack was forced to leave, that Benjamin left me, that we lost so much time…” She sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know how to carry all that heartache. So many years of it! And now.” She gestured toward the mighty White Oak Lodge behind her. “Now, we’re reopening. I can’t help but think it might be a mistake. What if this old place is cursed? What on earth can happen to the Whitmores next?”

“No,” Lorelei said firmly. “Angelo is a very troubled man. The family isn’t cursed, and none of it is your fault. It isn’t Grandma and Grandpa’s fault either. Angelo made many, many mistakes. He became the sort of person nobody could trust. That isn’t bad luck. That’s just one person.”