Despite being planted late, the flowers were flourishing. The colors around the house were dazzling. Jack wished he had pastels or water colors—even regular crayons would do—so he could capture their beauty. His usual drawing pencils just wouldn't do it. They couldn't even come close. The vegetable garden was also awash with color as new things popped up every day. It was a fairly large plot; they were already eating out of it, and Rose insisted they were the best vegetables she had ever tasted.
"That's 'cause you helped grow them," Jack told her. "Everything tastes better when you make it yourself."
"That's true," Fabrizo said. "Which is why we have to make these noodles ourselves." He rolled out the dough.
"What are we making this time?" Rose asked eagerly.
"We're making gemelli," Fabrizo replied. "You too Jack, come help."
"He's trying to get us to do all the work," Jack said, ignoring Fabrizo. "He pretends this is about teaching us how to cook, but really it's so he gets to eat all this great food without having to make any of it."
"Well, I want to learn how to cook great food," Rose said with a shrug. "So, I don't mind." She moved her hands carefully, doing her best to imitate Fabrizo's movements. She had gotten better at noodle-making, but she still saw plenty of room for improvement.
"Are you ever gonna tell us?" Jack said.
"Tell you what?" Fabrizo said, keeping his gaze on the dough.
"About where you've been going every evening," Jack replied.
"Jack, don't bother him," Rose said. "He'll tell us when he wants us to know."
"Thank you, Rosa."
After a moment Rose said, "Who is she?"
"You too?" Fabrizo said. He sighed. "There's no-one. I just like going for walks. Alone. It's cooler in the evenings. I've seen you two do the same thing."
"Fine," Jack said. "We won't talk about it."
"Thank you," Fabrizo said. He wasn't just being secretive for the sake of being secretive; he didn't know what to tell them. He didn't know what was happening between him and Lucy. He liked her, but he wasn't sure she liked him. She accepted his invitations to walk in the evenings, but they remained far apart. Was it shyness, he wondered, or aversion?
"This smells wonderful," Rose said, stirring the sauce. "When can we eat?"
"Not for a few more hours," Fabrizo answered.
Dejectedly, she bit into a carrot. "I guess this will do," she said. "I don't remember eating this well in Italy."
"You didn't have carrots?" Jack teased.
"No, we didn't have anything that smelled like this," Rose said. "Honestly, we ate more French and American food than anything else. Cal didn't like Italian food."
This was the most she'd said about Cal in months. Jack glanced at her. She didn't seem upset; in fact, she looked happy. He took that as a good sign. He didn't particularly want to know more about Cal, but he was glad Rose was able to say his name without flinching.
"Good thing you got away from him," Fabrizo said. "A man like that is no good. French food is—" His nose wrinkled in disgust. Rose laughed. "I don't mind it," she said." "If I'd had someone like you cooking it with me, I might love it."
As they worked Jack's thoughts drifted. The garden wasn't big enough. It was feeding them just fine now, but there wouldn't be enough to get them through the winter. They'd discussed the coming winter briefly, but he knew something would have to be done soon. Why hadn't he insisted they talk about it more? Why hadn't he already started planning? With the sun shining every day, and the temperature still soaring, winter seemed so far away, but as Jack knew all too well, it would be there much quicker than they expected. It would descend upon them with its winds that sliced through them, turning everything to ice.
The wood supply was coming along nicely; that, at least, he'd thought about, but what would they eat? What would they wear? Suddenly, his cotton shirt felt inadequate. Once fall set in it would be little more than a rag with buttons. He had a coat. They all had a coat, but he doubted they were heavy enough. He'd seen Rose's coat. It definitely wasn't heavy enough.
Hal-formed plans swirled in his head as they sat down to eat. "We, us, we need to talk," Jack said, his tone heavier than he intended.
Rose gave him a puzzled look. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," Jack said. "I've just been thinking. We need to start planning for the winter, really planning for it."
"That's still far away, isn't it?" she said. "It hasn't even started getting cold yet."
"It hasn't, but it's not that far away," Jack replied. "Winter starts early up here. We've gotta figure out how we'll get through it."
"You make it sound so threatening," Fabrizo said.
"It is," Jack said. "When it starts snowing, that's pretty much it. We probably won't make it back to town until spring. We'll be stuck here for weeks—months. We hafta have everything we need before that happens." He looked from Fabrizo to Rose. "I'm not trying to make this sound worse than it is. We're not going to war." He laughed. "I just want us to be alright."
"Well, we have plenty of wood," Rose said slowly.
"Not enough," Jack said. "But we've made a good start."
"We need more food," Fabrizo said. "Things that will last."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Only, I don't know how to preserve any of what we have."
"It's pretty obvious I don't know how," Rose said, offering a laugh.
"I know how to preserve some things," Fabrizo said. "Not much, but I can get us started. We'll have plenty of pasta."
"That's a relief," Rose said.
"It's a start," Jack said. They would need so much more. The list in his head kept getting longer, and he doubted whether they could manage it. For the first time he questioned bringing them so far into the wilderness, away from everything. What would they do if one of them get sick? Or hurt? They needed a horse. Maybe two. A cow, for milk. They could make cheese and butter. Jack vaguely knew how butter was made, and Fabrizo knew something about making cheese. It wasn't completely impossible. But what would they feed these animals? It was far too late to grow anything. Being rooted, Jack realized, was more stressful than being rootless had ever been.
…
"I don't understand why you keep coming here," Lucy said. They walked along the edge of the lake. She kept her arms close to her body, half-afraid he would reach for her hand, and half-hoping he would.
Fabrizo kept his hands in his pockets. "Because I like you," he said matter-of-factly. "Do I need another reason?"
"Maybe. Why would you like me?" She kicked a rock out of her way, not caring if it scuffed her shoe.
"Why not?" he said. "You're interesting."
"I'm interesting?" Lucy laughed shortly. "I've never gone anywhere or done anything. There's nothing interesting about me."
"Sure there is. You might not see it, but I do. This whole place is new to me," he said. "It's nothing like where I'm from."
Her tone softened. "Tell me about what it's like there." She looked up at him. "Please?"
"Everyone talks like me, so this lovely accent, it's not so attractive, and you hardly ever hear English, unless you're in the city. Tourists don't really come to the villages. That's too much Italy for them," he said.
"What's your village like?"
"Small," Fabrizo said. "Everyone knows everyone else. They know your whole family's history, who married who, and why, and who betrayed who and what son was a disappointment, and what sister ran away, and which one became a nun, and if you missed mass that morning, and maybe even what you said to the priest during confession."
Lucy laughed, happily this time. "That sounds a lot like here."
"It's not so bad here."
"If you'd grown up here, you wouldn't think so," she said.
"Don't you like it here?" he asked.
"I used to," Lucy replied. "I never wanted to leave. I couldn't even imagine leaving; I saw no reason to. Everything I ever wanted was right here. But then…" She swallowed the words, refusing to let herself talk about Jack. So far, neither of them had brought him up, which she hoped meant Fabrizo didn't know about their past. She hated the thought of being pitied, especially by this kind, interesting-handsome, she grudging added—man. She didn't want this time they spent together, whatever it was, to be a gesture from someone who felt sorry for her; more importantly, and this she tried not to think about, she didn't want him assuming she was already taken.
"Things changed?" Fabrizo said.
"Yes," she said. "Things changed a lot, in ways I never expected."
"I understand," Fabrizo said. "They changed for me too. That's why I left. One morning, I woke up, and I couldn't get away fast enough."
That was how Jack felt, she thought, with a pang. One morning he had to go, and he couldn't wait, and there was no stopping him. Losing Jack, she'd realized, wasn't the worst part. The worst part was finding out he didn't love her the way she always thought he did, the way she loved him. He hadn't just gone off to deal with his grief and get some youthful restlessness out of his system; he'd gone off to live a whole other life, a life that didn't include her, and he'd found a woman who could make him happy, even if, as Lucy suspected, she wasn't good for much else. Why Jack loved Rose was a mystery. Why anyone loved delicate, doll-women was a mystery.
"Where did you go?" she asked.
"We left Italy," Fabrizo explained. "Eventually. We traveled around for a while, stopping along the way, until we got to France. I'd spent my whole life in the same little village. Just seeing the other side of the country was—" He searched for the right word in English.
"Incredible?" she offered.
"Yes. Incredible. Thank you." Fabrizo smiled, and Lucy smiled back, suddenly feeling warm all over. She moved a step closer to him. He pretended not to notice, correctly guessing she didn't want it commented on. "Leaving the country," he said. "That was something I never thought I'd do. I was so afraid but happy all at once. France was a whole other world."
"You're lucky," she said.
"You could travel," he pointed out. "Everyone should, I think."
Lucy shook her head. "No, I couldn't."
"That's what I thought," he said. "Sometimes you have to just go, not be afraid. Like Rosa, she—" Fabrizo stopped, shutting his mouth. What was he doing, bringing her up? He'd gotten too relaxed. Talking to Lucy was nice; he was starting to trust her. But he couldn't trust her with that.
"Like Rosa what?" Lucy said.
"Nothing. I got my cousins mixed up," he lied. "So, anyway, I was telling you about France."
…
"If it's too late to grow what we need for the winter," Rose said. "We'll have to go buy it, right?"
"Right," Jack said. He looked down at the list. "I don't know what we'll buy it with, though. There's no money coming in." He shook his head. "What was I thinking?"
"You were thinking we needed a place to go, and why not go somewhere familiar, where you own something so getting settled will be easier," she said. "And because we're all the way out here, finding us will be impossible. It was the right decision, Jack. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I didn't think so."
"We shoulda tried planting a bigger garden. I shoulda thought more about the future instead of focusing on whatever was going on right then. I know what winters are like here. I know how cold it gets and how fast. I let myself believe it would always be summer," Jack said, frowning. "Sure, I cut wood, but we can't eat that. At least we'll be warm while we decide whose shoes to eat first." He shook his head again. "And I brought you up here."
"Jack, this isn't like you," Rose said. "Don't talk that way. We'll get through this. We'll figure something out. Isn't that what you always say?" He didn't respond. "Isn't it?" she pressed. Finally, he said, "Yes."
"What we're facing now isn't any worse than what we've already faced," she said. "We've made it this far, and I'm certainly not going to give up now."
"You're right. I won't either. I'm sorry, Rose. It's a lot, you know? This is so much more than I ever had to deal with before. I—I don't want to fail."
"Jack, don't worry about that," she said. "I don't expect—You don't have to worry about failing." She kissed his forehead. "It's not up to you to take care of everything. I don't need you to conquer the world or have all the answers. We're figuring this out together."
"Why do I feel like I have to?"
"It may just be your nature," Rose said. "You take on so much. You care for us so deeply, and you can't stand not being able to make everything perfect. I love that about you. You aren't trying to control us; you just want to make things the best they can be." She brushed his hair back. "But sometimes, you have to share the burden." She took the list from his hand and read it quickly. "I have a coat," she said. "Why would I need another one?"
"It's not enough for the cold here," Jack said. "You'll need something heavier, trust me. You need heavier clothes. We all do. Me and Fabrizo have some things, but it's not enough. My clothes are in bad shape. We need bricks."
"Bricks?"
"To heat in the fire," he explained. "You wrap it in a piece of cloth and put it in your bed to warm it up."
"I've used something like that," she said. "I must admit, I didn't think about using a brick."
"I taught you something," Jack said, cracking a smile. "That one thing to be glad about."
"This list doesn't look terribly expensive," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Prices are another thing you've taught me about. We can use the money left over from my ring."
"That money's for an emergency," Jack said. "Or traveling, remember? If we use the rest now, what will we do if something happens?"
"Like what?"
"If the house burns down," he said. "Or if one of us gets sick, if we have to—" If we have to run again, he almost said. "If we need it," he finished.
"If we have to leave," Rose said. "If he finds us, and we have to leave." She almost never worried about being found by Cal anymore. What clues were left for him to follow? Fabrizo was with them. When he left New York he left no trail, and neither had they. Unless Cal set men into every city and every small town in the country, he wouldn't find them. In the back of her mind, Rose almost believed he wasn't looking for them anymore. It was September; nearly six months had passed since she left. He had to be running out of stories by now. He had to be running out of patience as well.
"Exactly," Jack said. "I don't think that'll happen, but if it did, I don't want us going off with nothing again. I don't want to leave," he added. "We've made a home here. We won't give it up unless we have to. He's not gonna chase us away again."
"I have more jewelry," Rose reminded him. "We can sell it when we run out of money. I don't care about any of it. If we sell it, it can do some good for us. I know you don't like getting money that way. I understand, Jack, but it's like I said before, the money is coming from me. If we do this, you're letting me take care of things. We're sharing the burden."
"There's still a lotta money left," he said. "We don't have to sell anything else yet. You're right. You were right before. We have to share the responsibility. I know that. I can't do it all on my own, no matter how much I want to sometimes. We'll use that money. Only…."
"What?"
"We can't spend too much here," Jack said. "People'll notice. They'll wonder hoe we have so much cash."
"You're a notorious bank robber," she joked. "And I'm your accomplice. Haven't you heard? It's quite the story."
"I'm sure it is," he said, half-smiling. "Do you help with the robberies?"
"No, I don't," she said. "You're too old-fashioned for that, or you are in the version I heard."
"We could go back down to Chicago," he suggested. "Get some things there. It might be nice to do a little traveling while we can. Fabrizo can see more of the country."
"That sounds like a great idea," she said. "When will we go?"
Jack shrugged. "Whenever. The sooner the better, really. It'll be cold next month, especially at night. I want us to have everything before that happens."
"Let's start packing," Rose said.
…
Fabrizo couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Chicago?" he said. "We're going there…to shop?"
"Sort of," Jack said. "We're getting supplies. It's too risky to spend all that money here. People will talk. They'll wonder why Rose doesn't have a decent coat or winter clothes. We could make something up, but—"
"You'd rather not," Fabrizo said.
"I'd much rather not," Jack said. "Lying is too complicated. Any intelligent person can spot a lie if they just look hard enough."
"When are we going?"
"In a couple of days, if that's alright with you. Rose's upstairs packing now."
"What about food?" Fabrizo asked. "Are we getting that here?"
"Probably. That makes sense, doesn't it?"
"I guess," Fabrizo said. "I don't know how to live like an outlaw. This is very new to me."
"It's new for us too. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but we can't risk stories getting out. I know what the odds are, but I can't take the risk. I can't risk Rose."
"But what if something did get back to him?"
Jack would never say so to Rose, but part of him wanted a confrontation with Cal. He wanted the fear and sneaking around to end once and for all. He wanted to hear Cal say he wouldn't bother them again, he'd never hurt Rose again, and he was sorry he did. He wanted Cal to give her a divorce so he could marry her, officially, and the rest of the world would have to take them seriously. He wanted to know Cal could never claim any children they might have; he could never say Rose being his wife made them legally his. Jack didn't know why he would do that, unless it was to hurt the two of them, or as a way to control Rose.
"I don't know," Jack said. He didn't know, as much as he might want a confrontation.
There was a knowing look in Fabrizo's eyes. "Don't you?"
"I can't think that way," Jack said. "Not when I know what it would do to Rose if he found us. She's finally stopped being afraid. She feels safe now. I can't take that away from her. I can't hope something happens." He paused. "And what if I'm wrong?"
"I don't think you are," Fabrizo said. "If he comes, he'll be alone. I've seen enough jealous husbands. Eventually, they come alone."
"He doesn't scare me," Jack said. "Not on his own. I can take him. I'm sure I can. He's a bully. He hurts women. He sends other people to fight for him and throws money around, like that makes him strong. He only goes after people who can't fight back. I can. I wqill."
"I hope you don't have to," Fabrizo said. "Even if you win, it might make things worse. The way things are now, it's not so bad."
"No, it's not," Jack agreed. "But it could be better."
