Home Cooked Love

Sofia gulped a little as she took the menu from the waiter. This was torture, but she was determined to go through with it. The menu made a creaking sound as it opened. The restaurant hadn’t been broken in yet, still brand new as a baby.

“People do this right?” She murmured to herself. 

It was not so much that she came to try the new restaurant but of what was here before this place. It was a lot filled with ghosts and memories of ghosts no matter how many times it was torn down and rebuilt. 

She sighed with a slight disgust at the food this place was serving. However, it was time she tried at least going out again. 

“Ma’am may I take your order now?” The waiter asked with very clear enunciation. It was this small thing that told the place, or at least her that he had practiced a LOT. 

Sofia sighed, “yes dear. I will have a garden salad and your best pasta dish.”

He nodded, and walked back to the kitchen with perfect poise. 

She looked outside as the rain slapped against the windows angrily. Sofia’s eyes misted over as she turned to eye the walls and ceiling. Perfectly places art frames, and crystal chandeliers. 

That was not what Katie was seeing though. Her eyes saw only beautifully arranged flowers and magazine articles from two lifetimes ago. She smiled, at the memory with a sole tear running down her cheek as the rain slowed outside, merely kissing the window pane. 

She shook her head, she really shouldn’t be here. Her thoughts still grazed on that old Italian restaurant and the memories made there. Her mama making every dish with love, and her sticky hands hands staining the wall. The place was filled with the laughter of lovers meeting, families reuniting, and seniors reliving their youth. 

She remembered inheriting this spot at such a young age, after that plane crash. She was angry at the loss she would now carry forever. Katie was then at the age where she felt invincible despite the reality she had faced. The feeling of invincibility showed in everything she did. 

“Ma’am, here is your salad I hope you enjoy it,” the waiter smiled as he carefully placed the bowl for her.

She smiled in thanks. 

She tasted the fresh lettuce with perfectly made dressing. It was everything she expected and she closed her eye inhaling that taste. 

It took her back to her younger self. She had been so angry with the responsibility of inheriting a restaurant. She had dreams of art and travel, which she was determined to do. She cringed as she imagined her mothers face. That stern Italian face. 

Youth does not really care about stern faces unfortunately. She hired people to run the place with recipes of the old county; as she travelled, developed her talent for art and experienced love. It was the experience she’d always wanted. She’d felt so carefree, that she ignored calls and letters remained unopened. 

One day, she’d finally matured enough to start thinking about her parents and what she had an obligation for. Her lover had just left, and she was at that almost grown up twenty-something crossroads. Maybe it was time to go back. She packed and headed back to the US. She took a taxi directly to the restaurant and was beyond speechless. It was nothing but rubble. 

She scrambled for all those unopened letters. While ripping them open the letters all jumbled together, as her mind tried to catch up with what was happening. 

“Restaurant is really struggling…”

“Business is going downhill…”

“…not sure I can keep managing this pl…”

“Ma’am I regret to inform you the building has been condemned and must be taken down. It’s just too old and repairs have not been kept up…”

“This building is not safe…”

She gasped as she took it all in on this gray dismal day. 

Her parents restaurant was gone, and had been for some time according to these letters. Now the foundation had been leveled and she would have to start from the beginning—her new beginning. 

“How was the salad ma’am?” Asked her very formal waiter. 

“Oh very good thank you,” as her eyes smiled up at him. 

Sofia looked around as he set her pasta down. She smiled excitedly at the memories this dish brought her. 

Sofia had been left with the decision—should she reopen the restaurant as it was, open something new or just sell the property and move forward. She settled on option two. 

She would later open an art gallery and Italian bakery. She proudly arranged all of her art pieces on the wall along with those old flower arrangements. The place was successful and it was even the place she met Rick. Rick would become the love of her life, the person she was meant for. He had come in to purchase some art pieces and fell in love with the food and owner. Unfortunately every happy beginning comes with a sad ending. 

She had lived a wonderful life with Rick until it ended in the slow unforgiving aggression of cancer. The caregiving took a tole on her health along with the ever present nod of grief. 

Sofia was wiser this time; she closed her art gallery down until she could figure out what to do with it. 

“Ma’am, how was your pasta?”

“Oh! It was perfect.”

Sofia looked around with ease, grateful the sun was breaking through the stubborn clouds. She nodded approvingly at the other tables and benches, while her eyes suddenly dropped to the floor she gasped. The floor had apparently been professionally painted and done with small arrangements of the flowers that her mama had always used with ease to decorate. 

“Isn’t that floor beautiful?” the waiter asked as he handed her the bill. 

Sofia had beat him to it handing over cash with a very generous tip. 

He smiled appreciatively, “ the owner has taken different things he was determined to put in and make it into what he called a legacy of a story. He has been so careful to get it right; although I am still not sure what the story is.”

Sofia smiled, “Oh, I do. The owner is my son.”

Sofia winked at his shocked face as she shuffled out the door, letting her aged wisdom lines welcome the warmth of the sunshine.