Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
She moved toward the coffee. She opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. When it was getting closer to Halloween, she loved to splurge on some creamer, but not yet. She added some milk, stirring the coffee into the mug and giving it a good mix. The scent of bacon was heavy in the air, and it made her stomach grumble.
Turning toward the stove, she watched as he pulled out the crispy-looking bacon, but he was not done. Two slices of bread went into the grease, and he dipped them in, only to keep the bread on the pan for another minute or two, getting it nice and crisp. He did turn the bread, and it looked amazing.
Once the bread was done, he placed a piece on each plate with crispy bacon and soft scrambled eggs. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she liked her scrambled eggs overcooked. It was the way her granddad often did them. Every time she was in the kitchen with him, he’d always complain about how chefs didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and they didn’t have the first clue how to cook. The tomatoes, perfectly grilled, went on toast.
Lorenzo was great at everything, except marriage. Or being a friend. Or having a conversation. He was good at telling his friends about all her shortcomings as a wife. It was her biggest fear that she was never going to be as good as her sister. That was certainly coming true now. She was not as good as ... she couldn’t bring herself to say her name. It hurt too damn much, which is why it was always easier to say “her sister.”
“Breakfast is served,” Lorenzo said. “Are you going to follow me to the dining room?”
She nodded her head and proceeded to follow him to the dining room. They sat down, and Lorenzo had already put the plate of food in front of her. She offered him a smile and a thank you.
“Don’t thank me yet, you might need to try it.”
Clarissa picked up her knife and fork and cut into the piece of bread, being sure to add bacon, tomato, and eggs. Even though the eggs were a little soft, she didn’t mind eating them. Eggs still tasted like eggs, and they were so good.
“It’s really good.”
“That’s good, so I was thinking you and I could hang out today,” Lorenzo said.
“Hang out?”
“Yes. There’s nowhere I need to be, and I thought you could show me what you like, what you enjoy,” he said.
Clarissa stared at him. “You wouldn’t want to do that.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“What I do is boring and...” she faded off, because it was the insult that he’d sent her way.
“And I don’t know anything about it,” Lorenzo said. “I need to learn what you like. You know what I like. I’ve taken you dancing. We’ve enjoyed movies.”
In the early days of their marriage, before he told his friends how he really felt, they did everything he loved. She would get her chance in the sewing room when he was busy with the mafia. She didn’t mind. It had been fun to learn more about him, and she absolutely loved to go to the nightclubs with him. When he would take her. She loved to dance, and although they had done it only once, it had stuck with her.
“You don’t have to do that,” Clarissa said, even more nervous. Sewing was not for everyone, and it did have the reputation of being boring. She loved it. She loved being creative and bringing fabrics to life, and it provided her an escape where she didn’t have to think about everything.
Lorenzo reached out and touched her hand. “I want to do it.”
She saw no point in arguing with him. She reckoned thirty minutes in her sewing room would be enough to send him running for the hills.
****
There was no way Lorenzo was ever going to tell his friends that other than killing people and being a Capo within the Colombo Mafia, he absolutely, one hundred percent, loved sewing. He was in shock.
Clarissa had given him free reign on her sewing machine, and it wasn’t like he’d made a lot, but for the whole afternoon, he learned the sewing machine—the speed of which to use it, and bringing strips of fabric together to create a large rectangle, to which they added some wadding between. He did two sides, and she helped him assemble the border with something called bias tape, which made it look pretty. If his sewing was neat, it would have looked amazing. She did suggest he hand sew, but he wasn’t interested in hand-stitching anything. However, from the looks if what he’d made, it probably would have been a lot better to hand sew. He loved every second of it, and after several hours, he had a quilted rectangle Clarissa said he could use on his desk, to put a mug of coffee on, with a plate of cookies.