A TWIST OF FATE
Chapter Fifty-One

The house and yard seemed eerily quiet to Jack. Some lights burned in the house, but no one was there. Jack climbed the rickety stairs and unlocked the door to his room.

The room seemed very empty with out Fabri. Jack threw his clothes on Fabri’s bed. But he was quite tired and he soon fell asleep.

He awoke next morning, relieved that he didn’t have a headache and having a vague recollection of dreaming about a wedding and Rose and Theresa being involved some where in it. But fortunately, no more details were there to haunt Jack.

Theresa. Yes, that was something else to sort out. If he was to take on the job and move back to New York, he wanted no complications. If Rose wanted to come with him, however unlikely, he didn’t want any complications at all. If Rose would come.

"Hah. You are being stupid again Jack," he laughed at himself. As if she was going to come back. As much as wanted it, could it ever be more?

Rose. How she would have enjoyed the wedding! Jack threw cold water on his face and dressed quickly. He wanted to get a bite to eat and find out how to get to Joe Massarella’s place. He also wanted to start on Fabri’s wedding portrait before tea time. Then it was an evening at Fabri’s and then the early morning train. To pack his few belongings up again and move on. He also had to face Rose. How would she feel about him going? About the kiss he stole from her?

Jack left his room, crossed the yard and up the stairs to the kitchen. He heard noises from the bake house and could smell the bread. Work had begun. But there was no sign of anyone.

He knocked on the door and entered as Mrs. di Rossi shouted come in.

She was dressed again in her apron, her hair pulled into a tight bun. The evidence of the glamorous bride’s mother had gone.

"Good Morning Jack," she smiled. "Sit, sit."

Jack pulled out a chair and sat.

"Help yourself," she gestured to the meat, cheese and bread that was out on the table.

"You slept well?"

"Like a log thank you. I sure wore myself out yesterday."

Mrs. di Rossi came and sat opposite him, placing a coffeepot down.

"It was a wonderful day. The first of my children has now gone." She looked at Jack.

"Maybe now it won’t be long before Theresa finds a young man."

Jack swallowed a mouthful of bread.

"I’m sure it won’t be Mrs. di Rossi. She is turning out a proper young lady, like Maria." Jack wondered if he perhaps wasn’t trying too hard.

Mrs. di Rossi noticed this remark.

"So what do you have planned today Jack?"

"Well. I have to see Joe Massarella about a job he wants doing in his new restaurant. I have some drawing to do and Fabri and Maria have asked me over tonight. Then I have to pack, not that I have a lot to pack."

Mrs. di Rossi poured out the coffee. Not a lot of spare time in those arrangements for seeing any one else. No Theresa was not in his plans.

"How are you getting to Joe’s?"

"I hope to walk if it isn’t too far. If you can give me directions I’d be grateful."

"Sure, sure." She took a sip of her coffee. "So you want to come back to New York?"

"For the money yes, But I don’t know if I’ll stay. I didn’t settle last time I was here."

"Ah, so you are coming back for the job?"

"Yes Mrs. di Rossi. And to see Fabri of course. But now he has a new life. I guess I’ll have to find myself one."

She sipped more of the coffee.

"Now you eat up and I’ll draw you directions to Joe’s place. Nice place it is too."

"You have known him a while?" Jack asked interested.

"Ah yes, many years. He always had a restaurant. He buys our bread. He is a good man Joe. Family man."

Jack finished his breakfast and took the directions Mrs. di Rossi had written out for him. He stopped at his room to pick up his folder he always kept with him and set off in the morning sun for the walk to the restaurant.

It took a good hour to get there. He if had known it was so far, maybe he wouldn’t have walked. But it saved him the fare. Money was not plentiful.

The restaurant was big, twice as big as Benito’s and the neighborhood was a lot more up market. The sign over the door read Bella Napoli. Jack went up to the door and knocked.

"Come in, come in!" Joe answered the door.

"Hello Joe," smiled Jack and followed him in. Furniture was stacked up under cloths. The floor was dusty and it smelt of fresh paint.

Joe was dressed in a white shirt and black pants. He mopped his brow, his large frame not coping too well with the heat.

They exchanged pleasantries and discussed the wedding briefly.

"But let me see your work Jack. The reason you are here of course." They pulled up two chairs and Jack willingly opened his folder to show Joe his work.

"What was the work you had in mind?" Jack asked.

Joe made noises of approval as he looked at Jack’s drawings.

"Well Jack, you see these walls here." Joe gestured the walls of the restaurant. "I want some murals painting on them, scenes from my home town of Napoli. I have paintings I bought with me, but I want you to decorate my walls."

"To be honest, I have never done anything like that. But it is something different, something challenging to say the least."

Joe stood up.

"This is a new restaurant for me. Bigger than any I have had before. I have a reputation for a certain clientele. That is why I have relocated here. I want something different, original. I am told you are good and what I have seen is good. I will supply the materials if you let me know what you need. But I want to open by the end of the month and I am a hard taskmaster. Know that now and you won’t get any surprises later."

Jack looked at the walls. It was a challenge all right. But he was sure he was going to enjoy it.

"Anyway, join me for a little lunch. I can show you my paintings I bought back, to give you a feel of what I am looking for. Then, we can talk money eh?"

Jack nodded. He was thinking that the Italians never stopped eating. He never eaten so much in two days. He followed Joe to the kitchen area where something had already been prepared.

"You like cannelloni yes?" asked Joe getting something out of the oven. Jack wasn’t sure what it was, but smelt good.

"Mmm, smells good."

Joe put out two plates of something pasta-ish with a sauce on top. He asked Jack to pull out a table from under the cloth and they sat, talking between mouthfuls. The food was good and Jack was quite taking a liking to loud Italian. He knew what he wanted and when he mentioned a price, with a bonus for being on time, Jack nearly fell off his chair. He couldn’t refuse, it would make him more than a few weeks of portraits in Philadelphia.

Joe finished and threw his serviette on the plate.

"I made this myself, but I have chef’s to work here when we open. I like to greet my guests and sit them personally. It is the small personal things that matter Jack. It is what makes my place so special. So, what do you think?"

"The foods very good sir," Jack replied.

Joe laughed out loud.

"No Jack, the job. Are you going to take it?"

"Yes sir, I will. Although I need to go back to Philadelphia and collect my stuff, sort a few things out."

"OK, OK. As long as the job is done on time, no problem."

"This is it then," thought Jack. "I have just committed myself to leaving Philadelphia. I wonder what Rose will make of that."

Chapter Fifty-Two
Stories