They all sat.
A plate of sliced bread with a thick crust was passed around, along with a dish of golden olive oil, pepper, and olives. Adriana served them heaping portions of pasta with fragrant tomato sauce and grated Parmesan. The smell was heavenly, so Dev picked up her fork. What the hell. While in Italy . . .
“Tell us all about yourselves,” Roberto invited, sipping his wine and beaming at them like they were royalty. “But first, let me say how sorry I am for the passing of your mama.”
“Thank you,” Dev said. “It was a bit of a shock to lose her so quickly.”
“What was a bigger shock was to find she left us the house,” Bailey added, dipping her bread in the oil and nibbling. “We had no idea Mom even owned this place. We were hoping to get more information about her and Aunt Silvia. Anything at all.”
Adriana shook her head with sympathy. “You poor girls. It’s so hard to lose a mother, and even worse when there are questions you don’t have answers to. Here, have some sole—it’s freshly caught. It will make you feel better.”
Dev began to put her hands up to politely decline, but Adriana slid the fish onto her plate. Fresh parsley, lemon, and garlic created a masterpiece that would have gone for fifty bucks at a New York restaurant. “Thanks,” she said weakly. Her sisters seemed to have the same issue—there was no declining food here.
Roberto frowned as he regarded his pasta. “I am afraid I won’t be able to tell you much. Houses in Positano are mostly very old, handed down from generation to generation. There is much history in the family lines. I know your mama’s house belonged to Richard Agosti, who married your great-aunt Silvia. After he died, Silvia inherited and would stay here for the summers. I remember her as a beautiful, vibrant woman with a big laugh.”
Bailey leaned in eagerly. “How did you meet Silvia?”
A grin curved his lips. “She dated my uncle for a while. I met her at a party and my uncle introduced us.”
“Were they in love?” Pris asked.
Roberto laughed. “No, they had a good time together, but it was never love.”
Adriana cut in. “Silvia was a bit of a celebrity in Positano. Everyone wanted her at their parties because she was so much fun. Oh, how the men adored her! But she loved your uncle Richard very much. Something inside of her died with him.”
Dev wondered about this great-aunt she’d never heard of who’d made a place for herself here. A place she’d shared with Mom. Did Mom get wrapped up in a summer romance because of her aunt? It definitely made sense. What didn’t was the number of letters collected in the hidden trunk. She was still thinking of this boy so many years later. That had to be much more than a summer crush, then, right?
Dev studied Roberto under her eyelids. Time to poke. “And what about Silvia’s niece?” she asked. “Our mother. Did you ever meet her? We’re trying to find out when she came to stay in Positano.”
Roberto shook his head slowly. “No. I never met your mama.”
Dev searched for any flickering emotion that would indicate an intimate memory. But his gaze was direct and he seemed to be telling the truth. Disappointment crashed through her. She should have known it would be too easy if Roberto was the one.
Adriana dumped some roasted potatoes next to her sole and made a clucking noise. “Silvia spent many years here before she died, but after that, no one ever came. The house remained empty.”
“Did you know her, Adriana?” Pris asked, forking up a bite of the flaky fish.
“No, I’m sorry, I did not.”
“May I ask how you got the job as caretaker?” Dev asked. “If you didn’t know Mom, I was just wondering how she chose you for the job.”
“Roberto has taken care of many houses here,” his wife said. “There are many summer people who leave from October to April, and he has made a living making sure each house is well-kept.” His wife shot him a loving look, one that spoke of simple emotion and respect. It made Dev’s heart twinge a bit in her chest, the idea that after so much time, one could still feel those things for a partner. “He takes his job very seriously. Silvia’s lawyer said she requested he be the one to look after her home.”
“He’s done a wonderful job,” Pris said gratefully. “The place looked not only lived in but happy.”
Adriana beamed. “Sì—this is what is important. A home has energy and it must be cared for, even in absence. The stories still live on and should be cherished. This goes beyond checking pipes and brushing off some dust. It is . . . holding the space. That is what my Roberto does.”
Her heart squeezed again. She’d never thought of a home like that. It had always been an asset or a liability, something to sell or invest in. Sure, she loved her family home, but many times she wondered if she also wanted to move on from those memories, the memories of a past that defined her. The way Adriana explained things, though, felt different. More . . . accepting.
Bailey sighed. “That’s beautiful.”
Roberto winked and refilled his glass. “My wife is a poet. To me, I just make sure the house doesn’t fall apart.”
They all laughed.
“Since you’ve been taking care of the house, you never saw my mother use it?” Dev asked curiously.
“No, not once. It has been empty since Silvia passed. I am glad it will now be filled again with family.”
“Me too,” Bailey said. “It’s too special to remain vacant.”
Alarm bells went off in Dev’s head. She tried to speak carefully. “It’s true, but the problem is we all don’t have the time to truly use the property. We don’t have summers off to visit, with all of our responsibilities. It may be better to sell it to a family who can enjoy it.”
Roberto jerked. “You want to sell your mama’s house?”
Dev nibbled at her lower lip. “Yes.”
“No,” Bailey cut in. “We don’t.”
“We’re discussing it,” Pris said firmly. “There’s been no decision made.”
Adriana gazed at them with distress. “But why would you want to sell your family heritage? Are there no children you’d leave it to?”
“Only my son,” Pris said. “He’s in London now at college.”
“But there could be more children later on,” Bailey said. “Children who deserve a chance to grow up in Italy or spend summers here like Mom.”
Dev tried not to gnash her teeth. Bailey would be thrilled to keep a house for no real purpose while the trust paid the bills. She never wanted to think practically or for the future. Why was it always Dev’s role to be the unfun one?