My Winter

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Winter's pov:

After I finished my business in the bathroom, I felt myself get lightheaded. I've gone to long with out food. I stepped out of the bathroom, noticing Nic not there. Guess he's feeling better?

I made it downstairs, feeling worse as every minute goes by. I looked at the time on my phone and saw its 3:26. Past lunch time, so they wouldn't have made anything. I needed to find the kitchen to make myself something.

Thankfully I didn't have to wonder long as I  found it right across from the dinning room. I stopped when I entered. My dream kitchen.

An Island counter in the middle, with golden pots and pans over it. There's storage space in the island as well. Fruits basket sat in the middle and unlited scented candles next to it. I assume it for when onions are cut.

A large double door fridge on the other side of the island and a gas stove to the right of where I stood. So much space! And it's organized. My OCD is happy.

I was so mesmerized, I didn't notice anyone come in.

"Posso aiutarti a perdere?" A feminine voice asked.

I looked to where she stood. She looked to be about in her 50's, short and petite. Brown eyes, black hair with some silver thrown in.

I also looked to where she came in from. It appears there another entrance to the kitchen that I missed. It's behind the island on the back wall. About five feet from the fridge.

"I'm sorry," I shook my head but smiled. "I don't speak Italian."

She smiled and her face lit up in recognition. "Ah. You must be the lovely Winter. My name is Annabell. But you may call me Anna." She said, with a slight accent.

"Nice to meet you."

"Are you hungry dear? You don't look so well." She frowned and walked towards me.

"I uh..." I looked down at my hands and saw them shake. "Yes I am. I haven't eaten yet. And I so came here to make myself. But I may need help."

She saw my hands and she immediately understood. "Let's start you of with orange juice and salted crackers. Take a seat." She gestured to a black wooden stool that sat next to the island.

I did so gratefully and slowly. She grabbed the crackers from a cabinet and a glass from another. She quickly poured the orange juice and handed them to me.

"Here you go my dear." She placed her hand on my shoulder and rubbed assuringly.

"Thank you, Miss Anna." I said, taking a sip of orange juice.

"It's just Anna dear. And you're welcome. Dinner will be made soon. Can you wait that long?"

I nodded.

Anna let go and opened the door she came through. "Amy. Grab the rest. We need to start making dinner." She called out before returning back to me. "You may stay as long as you'd like. But if we get news that Master Nicolas is near or even looking for you, you should leave."

I frowned at this. "Why?"

"His family rules for the kitchen. Anyone in his family or that is considered family, which includes you, aren't allowed in the kitchen." She explained grabbing some pans from above me.

"Why? I love baking."

She looked at me and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. Their explanation is, 'that's what the maids are for'."

This made me angry and confused. "But Nicolas came down here the other night and made dinner for me."

"That was after we had either gone home or to bed. He sometimes does that when we're not here and needs something to eat. But if we're here... he doesn't enter."

Humph. "Well, I'd like to stay till dinner."

"As you wish." She smiled.

Soon five other people came in. One being Amy. I waved at her and she smiled and waved back.

I watched them prepare dinner, dance, laugh and talk in Italian. I couldn't understand them but I loved it. I love the kitchen and the memories it makes.

They would talk to me a little but not much. I was okay with that. They had a job to do. And it seemed they enjoyed it.

When they showed me the spice cabinet, they said my face lit up brighter than Christmas. I love cooking to but not as much as baking. Mom would love this kitchen though.

I can see her dancing and cooking in here all day long. Especially if dad wasn't home. Those times were the best. We'd often talk about opening up our own restaurant. We'd spend hours talking about the name we would call it, the design and colors and the food we'd sell. I smiled and cried.

"Miss?" I turned to see Lizzie, one of the cooks talk to me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and wiped my tears on my pink sweater. "Yeah, sorry. Just being here reminds me of my mama."

"Oh. Kitchens can do that. They seem to hold more happy memories than any other room in a house. What happened?"

"Car accident."

"I'm sorry." Those two words I hear all the time. Then I tell them why she was... sometimes they still apologize and say it's not my fault while others are at a loss for words.

"Thank you." Is all I say. I don't want to explain what I did to cause it.

"La cena è pronta!" Anna announced. She looked at me and smiled. "We're gonna teach you. Dinner is ready."
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Nic didn't join me for dinner, he had things that he needed to do that might take him all night to take care of, so I ate with the girls.

Homemade baked Chicken Gnocchi with Garlic Asiago Cream Sauce. The best meal I had in a while. And Nic missed out on it. I decided to save it for him in case he hasn't eaten anything. He'll have it for later, it just won't be as good.

10 o'clock came, he still hasn't returned. But I needed to go to bed. My first day of residency is tomorrow. I need to be well rested considering I won't be back for at least another 16 hours or more.

After crawling into bed, I thought about the day. I more thought about what Anna said. No one of the Ruggiero family or ones who are considered the Ruggiero family, can enter the kitchen for food 'cause appearantly that's what the maids are for. Unless, they are done for the day or if Nic isn't here. So, two loopholes. There is no way he's keeping me out of the kitchen.

I guess I dozed of 'cause my eyes flashed opened when I hear the bedroom door open and quiet footsteps. I felt the bed dip and I heard a quiet mumble I couldn't quite hear.

"Nic?" I asked groggily.

"It's me. Go back to sleep. You have a long day tomorrow." He almost didn't sound himself, but I shrugged it off as he's just tired.

"Is everything okay?" I turned over to see him facing towards the other direction.

"Yeah. Just Mafia work stuff. Don't worry about it." He replied stiffly.

I thought it best not to talk anymore. He seems upset about something and I don't want to make it worse.

"Goodnight." I said, turning back over and falling back asleep, dreaming of ma.