Will I Ever Laugh in Italian? by Karis Vail (carter reed .txt) 📖

respectively. The end of August would usher four of them back to school. The summer brought a bevy of travel as I accompanied Cass to his diving meets. It wouldn’t be long before we would be sending DVD’s to college scouts, already taking notice of his talents, and I wanted to be sure we had ample video footage. Truth be told, the trips on the road with him were also an escape from the reality that was becoming my marriage.

In August I also registered my new personal chef business with the state of Colorado and secured my first client; they would quickly become my bread and butter customer. With the signing of that first contract, my business took off and by September I rented commercial kitchen space. The first of October I booked two large catering events, one of which would pair Kim and I in the kitchen again and net us both a handsome sum of money.

As we turned our clocks back in October, I had almost completely stopped going to the office to assist Bob in the business that had brought us such good fortune in the early years. I could only hope the technology boom we once experienced would pick up again after its bust in the months following 9/11. Perhaps as business picked up it would lift my husbands brooding mood as well.

The days had become progressively more tense between us after the near silent flight home in May. The nights were even worse. Once the children were back in school, I sought solace in my cooking. I was as happy as I had ever been in any job I’d ever held. I had found my passion and inside me it stirred. What Bob was doing with his days didn't seem to phase or bother me anymore - I buried my head in my work and in the sand.

I thought a lot about Italy and the Nilus Bar in those months. I knew in my heart I had made the right decision; however, I vowed to myself and to Chip that I would find the opportunity to return once again…someday.

I recalled the conversation he and I had just weeks upon my arrival home.

“Why didn’t you tell me he cheated on you?”, my ex-husband demanded.

“Because I didn’t want it to sway your decision any and I knew it would”, I retorted.

“Well, I was willing to take the kids anyway, wasn’t I?” he reminded me. “You know the bastard will do it again, don’t you? Leopards don’t change their spots. You should have stayed. Just promise me you’ll go back.”

“Thanks, now you sound like my mother”, I scoffed.

"Kar, I mean it" he stated sternly, "You owe it to yourself. Give me your word you'll make it a goal."

"I'm sure I’ll get back one of these days”, I said only half-heartedly. It had been a miserable few weeks and I was tired. He let me off the hook that day, but persisted throughout the ensuing months, ever reminding me that Italy awaited.

Reflecting on all of this now, I made my selection, uncorked my favorite Chianti, and set out to drain every drop. It had been a long day. I put out 165 meals, had another argument with my husband over the not-ours-anymore

business and still had laundry to tackle.

That night I dreamed of the Tuscan hillside where the wine I consumed hailed from. Once again I awoke with the visions of Bob and the mystery woman. Yeah, I'll go back. My resolve was firm once again, as I cried Sangiovese tears.


Chapter 6

August 2004

Organizing my things for the long flight to Paris tomorrow comes easily. I simply set aside what I needed for my 24-day trip abroad a few weeks earlier when I moved out of the home I shared with my husband, children, and Bear, our yellow lab.

As my chef clientele grew, the consulting business I once was a part of fell to pieces. Was it honestly a shortage of new business or was there more to the story, perhaps a lack of desire to continue at all on Bob's part? I didn’t trust much that came from my husband, the leopard, these days. The fact of the matter is; it doesn’t much matter. The damage had been done, in his eyes, the day I “deserted” him to pursue my own interests.

Whether it was abandonment issues of his childhood or a narcissistic nature he hid behind passive aggressive behavior – we seem doomed to be another statistic, both in our joint business pursuit and our personal life. In an effort to put some physical distance between our growing angst and anxiety with one another, I made the unilateral decision to move out.

What is of more importance to me today is covering the details Kim and my sous chef, Dustin, need in order to adequately run the business while I am gone. I was thankful to my friend, who a couple of weeks ago, offered to step into my shoes so I could take this trip. Her only caveat was that I bring her back authentic Balsamico from Modena. I would be only more than happy to comply as I would be working for a spell in nearby Castlefranco Emilia at the Villa Gaidello agriturismo.

Kim knew how important it was for me to return to Europe and the timing was perfect. I would visit my daughter and her dad in their new home in France before setting off for Italy once again.

The decision Chip and I made to have our youngest accompany him on his new adventure was exciting and nerve-wracking all at the same time. It seemed surreal to me that the European lifestyle that I had so longed for the previous year would come to pass for my child! I was thrilled for her and satisfied to live vicariously through both of them for now, while I welcomed the respite from the flurry of changes taking place in my life.

Just as I had spread my business wings, I finally felt some relief in my personal life. What will happen remains to be seen. At the moment, I am thinking about nothing more then the plane I am anxious to catch in a few short hours.


Epilogue

September 7, 2009

I have just returned from celebrating my 48th birthday with my Milano family, who treated me to a delicious classic Milanese dinner at the nearby Osteria Conchetta. I’ve been on Italian soil now for just 11 days and have already had one visitor with another due to arrive in just two weeks. Cass, who made Milan his last stop on his latest 2-month European tour returns to Denver the same day his dad departs DIA for France on yet, another house-hunting expedition. Chip will break up his 3-week stay with a few days spent here visiting me in my new digs.

Over dinner I explained to my gracious hosts that I had attended a coffee given by The Benvenuto Club of Milano. It is a group of English-speaking women Ex-Pats like myself and, I hope, a venue for budding new friendships and business connections. I met several great women from all over the world and am excited to meet with them again next week.

As I sit in reflection tonight it’s not lost on me the overwhelming sense of discontent I felt during the coffee meet. I struggled over and over again as I was asked the same thing, “where is home for you?” and "what brings you to Milan?".

Just where is home for me? Is it Colorado, where I spent 16 years of my life raising my now, adult children? The place I left behind two ex-husbands, five children, and a booming business?

Is it Kaua’i - the island where I sought refuge with my youngest child at a difficult time in both of our lives? The spot on all the earth I expected to spend the rest of my days once I landed there in 2005?

Is it Florida – home to my parents for the past 37 years and the city where I celebrated my 30th High School reunion less than a month ago? The very city I lived in most recently and where I ran away from another broken relationship, family, friends and business?

Is home now Milan? And just why am

I here? These are two of the many questions I have yet to answer for myself. When I left 11 days ago I made one very short journal entry while on the plane:

“I am on a journey – a journey that I have longed for and finally created for myself. It was a promise and one I have kept. I know not what I seek only what I hope to find – a way to cease crying American tears and begin finding laughter. Perhaps in time, it will be in Italian.”

There is one thing that is for certain - it is to Italy that I have brought both my hat and my heart.

Imprint

Text: All photos and content Copyright © Karis Vail, 2009 All rights reserved
Publication Date: 11-23-2009

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
For Chip. My travel inspiration and chief cheerleader.