bring tears to her eyes.
Leo, of course, had kept a tomato garden for years, spoiling Francesca. How could these pale things before her even compare? There were not words enough to describe the scent and taste of a sun-warmed tomato just plucked from the vine. Sinking your teeth into it, letting the sweet juiciness fill you up, renewed the life inside you. It was like eating sunshine. There was no end to the uses to which she would put those beautiful sun-ripened tomatoes from her husbandâs garden. Marinara sauces, pizza, salads, sandwiches. Her favorite, though, was a simple tomato salad. Francesca would start by cutting up the tomatoes and tossing them into a bowl with a healthy dose of virgin olive oil. Next, she would add a clove or two worth of diced garlic, some chopped basil and oregano picked fresh from her own little garden, then pinches of salt and pepper. Finally, she would toss it all together once or twice, and she was done. The addition of a loaf of fresh-baked bread and maybe a nice piece of cheese was all anyone needed for dinner on a hot summerâs evening. If she and her husband were really hungry, they found that nothing went better with those tomatoes than a thick juicy steak hot off the grill. That was Leoâs favorite meal in the summer. He loved to scoop up the tomatoes and drizzle the juice and olive oil and bits of garlic onto the meat. It brought a contented smile to his face every time. Despite the paltry selection of produce before Francesca, the memory brought a wistful smile to her face. She let out a long sigh.
âCooking for the family tonight?â asked Tony, bringing her back from her reveries.
âEh, I wish, Tony,â she answered, shaking her head. âNo, itâs only me tonight. I was just in the mood for some nice tomatoes, thatâs all. Something to make me forget about all this cold weather.â She cast another baleful look at the tomatoes. âBut I canât bring myself to do it,â she said glumly.
âI know what you mean,â Tony confessed with a nod of his head. âTell you the truth, I wonât eat those things myself. But I suppose theyâre better than nothing in the winter. Just be patient. Itâll be summer before you know it, and weâll have some nice tomatoes in. By then, of course, weâll all be complaining because itâs so hot outside.â
âAnd by then youâd better make sure that inside you have that air conditioner working again,â she admonished him. âNot like that time last summer when it broke and it was a hundred degrees in here.â
âAyyy, donât worry,â sighed Tony. âMy wife has already reminded me a thousand times about that. You two are a lot alike; you never forget anything.â
âIt comes with being a woman.â
With that, Francesca continued on to collect the few things that she needed from the market that day. In truth, she could have managed quite well with what she already had at home. But it had been two days since she had returned from Florida, and this was the first time she had stepped outside. Already it felt as though the walls were closing in around her, so a trip to the market had been a good excuse to get out of the house. The previous day had been spent unpacking, washing her clothes, and getting her closet back in order. Then there were the bills to be paid, and the appointments to be confirmed to have her hair done and to get a checkup from the doctor. Francesca liked to have everything in order. She started each day by making a list of things she needed to do. While she sipped her morning coffee, she would check the list from the day before to see if there was anything she had forgotten. She lived alone, so it was easy to forget things. Organizing her day in this way made her life easier. It kept her busy and made the days when she was alone pass more quickly.
The only items on the list for her excursion to the market