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Chapter Nine

It was a permanent feature since Maura was in Staten Island: she found herself somewhere and had no idea why she was there in the first place. At least this time, she had the occasion to visit a place that only Italian locals used to frequent. St. George waterfront was nice but it looked very impersonal compared to the cafe Roberta had taken her to.

"Aren't we supposed to go to the grocery store?"

It was the excuse Roberta had used when she had asked Maura to come along with her. Of course, she had made sure to wait and not have Jane around or else this face-to-face would have never happened for Jane was constantly with Maura. Too polite to decline, Maura had soon found herself at a small Italian cafe downtown.

"I only have a couple of things to buy. We'll go later... Francesco thinks I'm a slow shopper. Little does he know it's just I like having a drink before!"

The remark made Maura laugh lightly. If she found Jane's family's scheme quite archaic, she had to admit that the women had simply come up with subterfuges to turn their monotone routines into something pleasant. Perhaps Francesco even knew about Roberta's trick but he simply turned a blind eye to it because it made his wife happy.

There were a lot of untold things in their daily lives. Some were just a lot sweeter than other ones, harmless as well.

"And it's always a Campari?" Maura raised her glass. She smiled at Jane's aunt then took a sip of the Italian liquor. It was early in the afternoon for such a drink but since Roberta had ordered one then Maura had decided to follow her. "What a nice idea! You would get along with my mother."

"Why? She likes Campari too?"

Maura smiled as the first image that came to mind turned out to be one of Constance with a glass of Cognac in her hand. She looked at her drink then nodded.

"Oh, she likes all sorts of drinks."

Maura really dreaded the moment Roberta would talk about the reason that had pushed her to suggest this last-minute getaway. Maura wasn't a fool: she knew that it had to do with the confession she had made earlier in the kitchen, about the feelings she had for Jane. She simply hoped that Roberta wouldn't try to play the matchmaker for it would make her feel uncomfortable. The situation was complex, a lot more than what Roberta would ever be able to understand. After the fiasco with Romeo, Maura feared that Jane's aunt didn't have the subtlety it required. Lorena wasn't much different.

"You should take Jane here tonight, after the pre-rehearsal dinner. It's karaoke night on Thursday!"

Maura's lips curled up in a smile. It was very nice of Roberta, however Maura knew that Jane disliked karaoke with a passion. As a matter of fact, Maura herself wasn't very fond of it. She couldn't even hold a tune. The last thing she wanted was to die of shame in Staten Island.

"How does the pre-rehearsal dinner work? I mean, should I know something about it? Traditions, music..."

The change of subject was a bit abrupt but Maura hadn't found any other way to let Roberta understand that she didn't want to talk about her feelings again. Besides, there was nothing to add: her heart beat faster whenever Jane was around and she knew why. It was a fact. It was a reality that she had accepted a long time ago just like the silence that surrounded it.

"No, it's a very informal dinner. It's hold at Fabio's because he has the biggest backyard of us all. It's the occasion to invite over the family-in-law too."

"Oh, I see."

Not really knowing what to say, Maura fixed her hazel eyes upon her glass of Campari. She had already drunk most of the apéritif and now felt a bit dizzy. Perhaps she should slow down a bit.

"I wish Carmen were here."

Roberta's words pierced the air with the sharpness of a Samurai sword. She had murmured her confession but with such a strength that Maura felt Jane's aunt's bitterness tighten her own heart.

"Can't she come?"

Roberta shrugged as a thin smile barely reached her lips. Then Maura understood that her host hadn't asked her to go out with her to talk about Jane but to talk about Isabella, probably because she didn't have anyone else to share her thoughts on the matter with.

"I've invited her, of course. But my husband..." Roberta shook her head. "He's never accepted it. We always knew she was different: as a child, then as a teenager. At first we thought she was just timid and that's why she didn't talk about... Boys unlike her sisters but then... She decided to go to college. She was a bright student, always plunged in her books. She had dreams. I think... I think we were just in denial. The day she told us that she lived with a woman, it turned out to be a shock but it shouldn't have been. We just had refused to see the signs."

A torrent of words were sliding on Roberta's lips. It was as if she had opened the doors to something that she had kept for herself for too long, a river of repressed emotions and confusion. The more she spoke, the lighter her traits became. She wasn't somber at all, just full of regrets.

"Jane is different."

Maura never quite understood why she suddenly blurted it out. She had felt the urge to defend her friend, to let Roberta know that Jane and Isabella weren't alike. Somewhat embarrassed, she focused on the small wooden table and plunged into a shameful world of silence.

"Oh, I know. Jane is... She's probably like you, more or less. Somewhere in between. She had boyfriends and had boy crushes when she was a teen. Ask her about Leonardo!" Roberta burst out laughing as the reminiscence of what must have been a summer fling. "She's not like Isabella... But Isabella probably reminds her of a part of her identity that she has a hard time to deal with."

Maura closed her eyes. The cafe briefly disappeared as she filled her lungs with air and let a smile light up her traits. Roberta's perceptive mind had taken her aback. She had been wrong about Jane's aunt: Roberta wasn't just a loud, middle-class housewife who hadn't got any college education. She was a bright person and her judgement was spot-on.

"Sadly, I don't think Jane will ever accept it."

Roberta gulped down her Campari. She set the empty glass down on the table then looked Maura in the eye with the same self-confidence as Isabella's. Maura came to the conclusion that both women had a lot more in common than what they would ever be eager to admit.

"She will if you make the first step, amore*!"

...

"Of course she lied to you! She's Italian!" A black dress hanging on her forearm, Jane raised an index finger and looked at Maura. "Rule number one with Italians: when they say it's a casual dinner then make sure to dress up to the nine."

Maura sat on the bed and let an unpleasant wave of confusion rush through her. She had come back from her so-called grocery shopping getaway to find Jane on the verge of an umpteenth nervous breakdown for she had forgotten in Boston the only black dress she more or less liked. Thankfully Isabella had lent her one. Nobody attended a pre-rehearsal dinner in jeans.

She wasn't very fond of her family but she didn't want to be disowned either.

"Then how come Roberta is so calm?"

Maura's question caused Jane to snort. She rushed to the bathroom just as much to change her clothes and do her hair as to run away from Maura. Panic had overwhelmed her the moment she had learned that Roberta and Maura had left without her. She knew her aunt and what she was capable of: Maura had fallen into a terrible Italian trap and Jane would feel guilty for the rest of her life. She was responsible of Maura's well-being in Staten Island and it certainly didn't include grocery shopping with a loud Italian woman.

"She knows the in-laws, she basically grew up with them." Jane's dark eyes fixed upon her reflection in the small bathroom mirror. She felt the words caress her lips then wrap up her body with a burning sensation that forced her to speak. "What did the two of you do, anyway? I'm sorry she pushed you to go to the grocery store with her."

Maura was mentally debating the choice of her evening dress when Jane's question made her freeze. She swallowed hard and desperately looked for something relevant to say back. Of course she couldn't let her friend know that she, Maura, had talked about her feelings for her with her aunt. Yet the mention of Isabella had chances to make Jane feel awkward too.

A sigh of frustration passed Maura's lips as she realized that she was in a dead-end path.

"We just went out for a little while... Don't be worried, Jane. It was nice. I enjoyed it quite a lot, as a matter of fact."

Jane poked her head into the bedroom and frowned. She coudn't be more confused.

"Are you sober?"

"Of course, I am. Do you really think that I am the kind of person who would show up at a pre-rehearsal wedding dinner intoxicated?"

Jane apologized. She should have known better than being sarcastic with Maura while she had just put pressure on her friend as she had told her about the importance of the pre-rehearsal dinner. She had been quite tactless. One more time.

"You don't have to become a Rizzoli martyr, Maura. It's just..." Jane grabbed her eyeliner. She loudly sighed. "I know how they are and how tough it can be to deal with them. I don't want you to suffer from that."

They may have only been separated by the thin wall of the bathroom but Maura felt an immense distance between her and Jane. Her friend was so far from the truth, so far from knowing what Roberta already knew.

...

*Amore: sweetheart