Someone to Love by Lucy Scala Read Free Book Online Page A

daughter at the hospital and I think we will be seeing each other often since the commission has given the go ahead for her proposal,” he said, searching for the most appropriate words. “Isn’t that so?” asked Alberto, seriously. I admired the concise answer that revealed a minimal amount of information.
    â€œJust so,” I said, before piercing the meat with my knife. “I don’t know the details or the conditions yet, but I’ll meet the first children I’ve been entrusted with for my pet therapy project soon,” I exclaimed, satisfied.
    A cough interrupted my trance. Everyone looked at me curiously. Had I missed something?
    â€œPetterapi what…?” my mother asked doubtfully, as if she lived on another planet.
    I tried to stop myself and just snorted. “Pet therapy, Mum! It’s a work thing, it will only bore you…” I hurried to answer, using a sympathetic tone and pretending that it was nothing special.
    Beatrice opened her eyes, ready to reply, but my father looked at me as if to say ‘don’t be surprised, she’s your mother,’ and stood up. “Let’s have a toast to Mia and the passion she puts into her work. You must be pleased with yourself because you always find new ideas to help others. Well done, my dear.”
    Alberto was already leaping out of his chair and raising his glass. “To Mia, then” he exclaimed, immediately followed by everyone present.
    â€œCheers.”
    It was that moment, during the toast, with the slight tinkling of the crystal that made me uncomfortable because my family never indulged in hearty congratulations like that.
    â€œYes, but I don’t understand what—” whispered my mother, before being interrupted by a severe glance from my father. “Will it bring her more money?”
    He sighed: it was a losing battle. On the other hand, sensitivity wasn’t one of her virtues.
    â€œFrankly, I don’t understand why you waste your time like this. There are many other ways to get publicity and make money as well,” she said.
    â€œMum, I don’t do it for the money and you should know better than me what motivates me.”
    â€œBut the point is that I just don’t understand. Were we too generous with you when you were little, is that it?” she asked, with a pained expression.
    â€œBut of course not, that’s ridiculous! I started this career and I committed to becoming what I am today. I chose this job and I’m happy, but I see you still haven’t accepted it.” I silently chided myself for having started the discussion.
    My mother had that look that I knew all too well: her eyes were fixed on me and her expression distressed. I was seized by vivid memories of my teenage years in that house, between furious arguments and heavy silences. Everything I was hoping to leave behind, but… If only my grandparents were still here. They would have mediated and calmed the waters.
    She cleared her throat. “You made your choices and no one has ever hindered you. I’m only saying that your job isn’t like being on holiday, and that you should also watch your income.” The effort for self-control hardened every word.
    â€œAll right, you win tonight. I don’t think it’s necessary to go on with the usual arguments,” I said in a more conciliatory tone, taking a deep breath.
    The war between us never ended. Neither of us would surrender.
    My father rubbed his chin. “Well,” he resumed, after a long silence “Who wants to hear the story of when I was stuck in the elevator for a whole afternoon?”
    I looked at the time and thought that, maybe, I would be able to get to the end of the dinner safe and sound. My mother composed herself, moving a lock of hair behind her ear, and continued to be irritating. “And you, Alberto? Excuse my curiosity, but I get the feeling that you’ve never been married. Is