Love and Liquor

A Cup of Tea

V.
A Cup of Tea

There was a tiny pattering of running feet far off in the distance, so far off in fact, that Grace thought she was imagining it at first. The room was so quiet, so still. Nothing moved, even the dust had all settled at this point, leaving Grace alone with her muddled thoughts sitting on the lushly carpeted floor of the study. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Valentino had ordered everyone out, but she figured it had to have been some time ago. It felt like it had been some time ago.                                              

She knew she should have left the study right after the men did, but she couldn’t seem to make her legs work long enough perform such an arduous task. So she sat. She pulled her legs in tight to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them, as though keeping herself together. And there she stayed for some still undetermined amount of time.                                                                       

Grace had let her mind wander, but there was that little pattering again, disrupting her thought, bringing her back to reality. It seemed to get louder, and this time, it was accompanied by little giggles.                   

 A little boy, no more than five years old came running through the ajar door. Grace felt her heart skip a beat. The little boy had startled her. She placed a hand over her heart, as if it would help to control its now rapid beating. The boy had stopped his giggling, and now stood in the doorway with a curious look on his chubby face.                                                                                   

“Milo? Where did you run off to?” a voice called from somewhere down the hallway, but neither Grace, nor the little boy, Milo, seemed to pay any attention to it.                                                   

“Who are you?” the boy asked, rather bluntly, in the way most little children do. Grace felt herself loosen, as the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. Milo’s frankness amused her.                                                                                                                                                                  

“My name is Grace. What’s your name?” she asked, making small talk.                                     

“Milo? I know you’re here somewhere. I’m gonna find you!” A sweet voice playfully threatened.                                                                                                                                          

“Mommy, I’m in here,” he said, pushing the door all the way open to reveal himself and Grace, who was still leaned up against the desk in a ball.                                                                          

The young woman Grace had seen in the foyer on her way in earlier that morning stood in the doorway with a wicker basket of laundry balanced on her hip. The woman smiled down at the little boy, and then looked back to Grace. The woman noticed tear stains running down  Grace's cheeks that the little boy had missed in his frank analysis.                                                                                  

She set her basket down in a nearby chair, and gracefully fell to her knees in front of the little boy. Her hands grabbed his sides in a motherly way.                                                                               

“Why don’t you go find Nonna Gia in the kitchen? I thought I heard her say she was getting ready to make some sweets.” Milo’s eyes went round with excitement, and he bounded out the door in search of his grandmother.                                                                                                      

The woman pulled herself back to her feet.                                                                                       

“Grace?” she asked.

Grace lifted her head to look the woman in the eye.                                                                        

“I’m Nina, Vincent’s wife. How long have you been in here?” her voice was gentle, as though she were afraid to scare her off.                                                                                                          

“S-since they left. Maybe a few hours ago? I’m not sure to be completely honest.” She gave a half smile.                                                                                                                                        

“Luca just left you here?” Nina shook her head. “Don’t worry, I will have a word with that boy when he gets home. He knows better than to leave a young woman alone, especially the one he is going to marry.

Grace’s ears perked up.                                 

“How did you know I’m going to marry him?” Nina breathed a laugh.                                           

“Trust me; I’ve lived here long enough to know that things don’t stay secret very long in the Venzetto family.” Grace didn’t respond.                                                                                                         

“I remember my first day here. It was a lot like yours, actually. Valentino met with me in this very room. There were about half a dozen other men present as well, and I knew none of them. It was very intimidating. He wanted to discuss the terms of my marriage to Vincent. Ours’ was arranged just like yours." 

Grace sighed, wiping the last traces of miosture from her eyes.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Nina extended a hand and Grace took it. She stood for the first time in a while, and winced as she felt the blood begin to circulate again. Nina grabbed her basket, making for the door.                                     

“You look like you could use a cup of tea.”