“Oh, yes, that’s right, Rach. You’re far too intelligent to fall in love.”
“No, Mom. I’m not too intelligent to fall in love. But I’m too intelligent to turn a man into a meal ticket.” She paused but her mother was silent now and Rachel pressed on. “I should think you’d be uncomfortable with Juliet always trying to cash in from her looks. She doesn’t think she should have to work because she’s beautiful but good looks can only take one so far—”
“You’re jealous.”
“Mom, I’m too old for this. I might have been jealous when I was fourteen and she was twelve and Juliet stole my first boyfriend, but I’m twenty-eight and I have great friends, a job I love and a life I enjoy.”
“Then why care that Juliet is doing life her way? Don’t resent her happiness. She’s sure she’s found the one, and I fully expect an engagement announcement any day now.”
But Mrs. Bern was wrong. There was no engagement, but there was an announcement. Juliet was pregnant and her rich boyfriend, Italian businessman, Antonio Marcello, had broken things off with Juliet and returned to Italy without her.
It had been a terrible time in Seattle afterward. Juliet had been heartbroken, and then not even two months later, Mother died. They hadn’t known she was unwell. Mother hadn’t even known. If there was a blessing, it was that Mother went quickly, without months of suffering. She was there one day and then gone the next.
Not even three weeks later, they learned through a newspaper article that Antonio Marcello had died in Rome, at home, with his family at his side.
Juliet never really recovered after that. First Mother, then Antonio, and Juliet still had the third trimester to get through, but there had been too many hits and shocks. She went into labor depressed and didn’t bounce back after delivery.
Rachel had been impatient with Juliet in the months following Michael’s birth. She’d tried to hide her irritation, and she’d given her pep talks, perhaps more vigorous than necessary, but Rachel was overwhelmed by Juliet’s depression and her sister’s inability to care for the baby. Work was stressful with rounds of layoffs due to the economic downturn, and God knows, they needed Rachel to be employed. She was the only one keeping the family afloat.
But Rachel was barely coping herself. Mom was gone, Juliet wouldn’t get out of bed, the baby needed looking after and Rachel didn’t know what had happened to her life.
It wasn’t her life anymore.
A light knock sounded on the open door. Rachel looked up to see the young maid, Anna, standing in the doorway.
“Please, follow me,” Anna said in stilted English.
“Where?” Rachel asked, unable to move.
“I am to...walk you...to the door.”
“Where is my baby?”
Anna frowned.
“Michael. The bambino,” Rachel said, setting the cup down. “I cannot leave without him.”
“Sorry. Signor, he said the bambino he stays here. You...go.” She gestured to the door. “You come with me, please?”
“No. Absolutely not. I’m not leaving Michael here. Bring me the baby. Now.”
“I am sorry. I cannot. Signor will telephone you later, yes?”
Rachel was on her feet, crossing the room. “Where is he? Where is Signor Marcello?”
“He has gone to his office. I will show you to...down the stairs. Please come—” Anna broke off as Rachel brushed past her, stepping into the hall.
“Where is his office? Which direction?” Rachel demanded.
“No. Sorry.”
Rachel’s gaze swept the hall, certain that there were only more formal rooms on this floor. She glanced right, to the marble stairs they’d climbed earlier. The wide gleaming steps continued up at least another two floors.
She headed for the stairs and quickly climbed up. Anna chased after her, speaking in a stream of broken English and Italian.
Rachel ignored the girl. “Giovanni,” she called, her voice echoing in the stairwell. “Gio! Where are you?”
Her voice bounced off the marble and the high ceiling, but she wouldn’t stop until she found him. “I’m not leaving here, not without Michael. So if you want me to go, Gio, give me Michael and I’ll go, but there is no way I’d leave—”