Taste of Italy

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Taste of Italy Page 2

by Lula Woods

“Surprise me,” she replied with an impish smile, which he loved.

  “Ah, an adventurer!” He clapped his hands. “I will return with something spectacular.” He gestured sharply to one of the servers, and Gail and I chose a spot in the middle of the restaurant. A tablecloth was immediately found and placed on the table, along with candles and a vase of flowers. Cecilio was pulling out all the stops. I’d likely owe him a favor later. It was worth it, though. A classic Italian song, Marina, played softy in the background. It was one of my favorites.

  I pulled out the chair for Gail and then sat across from her. “This is amazing,” she said as she looked around. “Does everyone get treated like this?”

  “Only the ones Cecilio likes. He likes you, and he will tolerate me since I brought you here.” I laughed. “Normally, we are in competition for feeding the tourists. We went to the same school here in Roma.”

  She laughed. “I see. Well, I’m glad I can help smooth relations between you.”

  “Me, too.”

  Cecilio returned with a bottle of red wine whose label I recognized since it was from my vineyard. He poured a glass for both of us, leaving the bottle on the table. I gave him a look, which he ignored. “Try this one, Signorina. I am sure it will be fantastic. Benedetto can tell you all about it.”

  Gail looked at me, but I gestured to the wine. “Taste it. Please. Tell us what you think.”

  She complied, taking a sip of the red wine. “Oh, I like this. Very robust.” She looked at the host. “Grazie, Signore,” she said, which charmed Cecilio.

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Prego, Signorina.” He told us the menu for the evening, and after we made our choices, he left to see to our meal.

  Gail looked at me. “Explain what he meant by his comment earlier.”

  “Ah, the wine? I own a small vineyard near Napoli—Naples—which produces this wine.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really? And you also run a restaurant?”

  “Oh, yes. I have lots of family members who help out, and it allows me to take time off when I need it. I travel back and forth between the two often enough to keep an eye on things, or when there is a minor crisis. Between all of us, we manage the family businesses. I will take you there if you’d like. We could spend the day together, and I will show you the place where my uncle taught me how to make pizza, if we have time, though my family may monopolize us. Naples is famous for its pizza.”

  “I would like to see Naples,” she replied. “You sure you don’t mind? I was planning to take a bus trip there next week and explore the area.”

  I took her hand in mine and kissed the knuckles. “Driving in my car will be much more pleasant, I assure you.”

  She smiled rested her chin on her other hand, her eyes twinkling at me. “And you have no ulterior motives at all, right?”

  “Oh, I definitely do. If you could hear what I was thinking right now…”

  Laughing, she replied, “I get a general idea. Thanks for the offer, Ben. I will think about it.”

  Cecilio chose that moment to return with our pasta, and the next couple of hours were spent enjoying a fabulous meal as only Cecilio could create. He was indeed a master at pasta, though I would never tell him that out loud.

  Gail complimented our host when he brought us coffee and a digestive after the meal. “Truly wonderful, Cecilio. Grazie,” she said and raised her glass to him as a toast.

  “I am happy you were pleased, my dear,” he replied. “I hope you enjoy our beautiful country while you are here, and you are welcome at any time in my restaurant. Don’t let Benedetto keep you all to himself.”

  Naturally, I responded with something not meant for polite ears in Italian, and he did the same. We were used to each other’s antics. When Gail excused herself from the table for a moment, I went over to where Cecilio stood and paid the bill.

  “She is lovely, your tourist,” he said as he ran my credit card.

  “Yes, so be nice to her. Didn’t I help you find your wife? You owe me for the years of happiness and three children you have now.”

  “You always say that when something like this comes up.”

  I smiled. “That’s because it works.”

  Before we could argue further, Gail returned and joined me where I stood. “Ready to go?” I asked.

  She nodded and thanked Cecilio once more before we headed out into the late Roman night. “Are you tired?” I asked.

  “A little, but I don’t mind walking for a while before going back to my hotel. I’m still working through jet lag.”

  “You will allow me to accompany you?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  We took our time, the streets still busy at this late hour, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. When we arrived at her hotel, it was after midnight. “I had a lovely evening, Ben. Thank you. Would it be alright if I stopped by the restaurant to let you know my decision about Naples?”

  I kissed the back of her hand. “Anytime you like. I hope you say yes.”

  “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, and I gently took her chin to kiss her softly on the mouth. She tasted of wine and coffee, and I wanted more. I forced myself to be patient, however.

  “Until we meet again, Bella,” I said as she stepped back.

  “Buonanotte, Ben,” she replied, and I watched her walk into the lobby of her hotel.

  Chapter Three

  Gail

  Dinner with Ben had been undemanding, and the food was fabulous. I was being spoiled by Italy and couldn’t find it in myself to complain. I was made to feel like family by the people I’d met, and Ben’s offer to go to Naples was quite tempting. A brief fling would probably work wonders for my psyche.

  I greeted Signore Abramo at the front desk as I walked by and waved to his youngest daughter Lina who was seated on one of the couches in the lobby, rocking her youngest child to sleep. As I got ready for bed that evening, my thoughts shifted to Rena, and it occurred to me that I could try to find her on social media.

  I sat in bed with my laptop and used the hotel wi-fi to search Facebook using her name: Rena Whitmore. It was a shot in the dark, but I hoped that eventually, we would find each other again. I scanned through profiles for about an hour before coming across someone who could be her but had a different last name. The account said she lived in Spain. Could it be her? I sent an email before signing off and going to bed.

  The next morning, I had a message waiting. Heart racing, I clicked on it, and what I read made my heart glad.

  “Gail! Is it really you? This is awesome! Oh God, it’s been so long! I hope you’ve been well. Remember how we used to dream about traveling to Europe? Well, I finally did when I went to college. I just never left! I did a year in Barcelona as part of my degree requirements, and now I live here! I’m married and have two wonderful kids. How are you? I hope life has treated you well. Please respond, and we’ll figure out how to get in touch, okay? Gotta run. Talk soon!”

  Oh man, that was so cool! I immediately sent a response, and since she was online, we set up a time to call each other from my hotel in the middle of the afternoon the next day while everyone had their riposo. In the meantime, I had made a decision to simply enjoy what Ben had to offer and not overthink it. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and neither was he. And that was perfect.

  I got ready for my day and went downstairs to greet Abramo and his extended family and have a loud, enthusiastic breakfast with everyone. I was learning a few more Italian words every day, and I practiced them when I could.

  As I finished my coffee, Leonora, Abramo’s oldest daughter, asked in halting English, “Your date was, er good, yes?” I had found the family to be quite nosy, though they meant well. Mostly.

  “Oh, yes. Ben was very nice, and the meal was lovely.”

  “You will spend more time with him?” Lina asked as she wiped some food away from her youngest son’s chin.

  “I think so.”

  “Good. He is a nice man, and al
l the ladies, they want to be with him, but he is not for marriage, you understand?” Leonora said.

  I shrugged. “Neither am I.”

  I thanked them all for the meal and the company, and amid a flurry of well wishes and suggestions for my day’s outing, I left to further explore Rome.

  ****

  I stopped in at Ben’s restaurant for lunch again and was greeted as I had come to expect from Italians, but with an additional kiss that made my toes curl and the people around us clap and whistle when I grabbed hold of his shirt to keep my balance. “Hello to you, too,” I said when I stepped back, slightly breathless.

  “You bring it out in me,” he replied as he took my hand and led me to the counter where I could sit and watch him make the pizza. “Would you like something similar for lunch today? Or shall I surprise you?”

  “Surprise me,” I said. “Though I don’t think you can top what you made for me the first time. That was pretty good.” My smile was mischievous as his family members ribbed him mercilessly.

  “Ah, your new lady has challenged you, Ben. That’s a lot of pressure,” one relative said. Then the conversation devolved into rapid Italian, and they argued while Ben worked on impressing me.

  One of his cousins brought me a glass of wine, served with a wink, and I was left to ogle Ben, the muscles in his arms flexing as he worked with the dough, the sweat on his brow, the way the material of his shirt shifted and couldn’t entirely hide the muscles beneath. When he finally placed the pizza before me, I was hungry for more than just what was on my plate. But I could wait. The pizza crust had the shape of a star, and in the middle, there was cheese, tomato, and olives.

  Ben’s family gathered around, along with some of the restaurant guests, to hear my verdict. I used a knife and fork to cut a corner of the star-shaped pizza and took a bite. I wanted to hold out and make him sweat, but I couldn’t help it. I moaned. He had outdone himself.

  “Okay, you did it. This is even better than yesterday, and I didn’t think that was possible.” Cheers and claps went up as Ben was congratulated with pats on the back. I focused on finishing my meal because it was damned good stuff. The crowd eventually faded away, and only Ben and I remained.

  “I suppose I should be careful what I challenge you to do in the future,” I said as I finished my glass of red wine. He poured me another, and I recognized the label since it was a bottle from his vineyard.

  “I can be very competitive, but I try to be nice about it.” Someone said “ha!” in the background, but Ben just said, “Ignore them. They’re just jealous you’re with me.”

  I took a deep breath and made the plunge. “I guess we could make them even more jealous by spending time together in Naples.”

  His smile widened. “Sí?”

  I nodded. “Sí.”

  “You will not regret it, Bella.” He cupped my chin and kissed me gently. “Thank you for indulging me.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and brought up a calendar. “You said next week you had been planning to go to Naples. Would that still work for you? Perhaps we could drive down on one day and return on another.”

  “Sure, that’s fine.” I took out my phone, and we made our plans. After more heady kisses and wine, I left with a wave and a promise to visit again before our trip, and I tried to walk in a straight line back to my hotel to make my call to Rena.

  “¿Diga?” a female voice said in Spanish.

  “Rena? It’s Gail!”

  “Ohmigosh, I can’t believe it!” I heard her squeal on the line, and then she said, “Oops. I’m moving to the kitchen, which should be far enough away that the twins won’t wake up when I’m talking.”

  “You have twins?” I asked.

  “Yeah. A boy and a girl. There are pics all over FB if you want to see them. My husband takes more pictures than I do, the nut. I think I sent you an invite. How’ve you been, Gail? I’ve missed you terribly, and I’m so glad you reached out.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, love. After you left, things were different, but I made it through high school and college, got degrees in English and Journalism, and now I’m a freelance editor, though I’ve taken a break for a while to finally pursue my dream of traveling.”

  “So you finally made it to Europe! What brought that on?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story, and I’d rather hear about you and your adventures first. Where’d you move to after your family left the neighborhood? And I know you said you went to school in Spain, but why Spain?”

  “Well, my mom was in the military, if you remember, and we often moved because of where she was posted. I was seventeen when we ended up in Maryland. I got into university there to study architecture. An opportunity came up to study for a year in Barcelona. When I got here, I didn’t want to leave. And then I met Marco, and the rest is history. We’re both architects now and work from home, though he does more of the client face time than I do. We make it work. But enough about me. Tell me what happened, love. I know there’s a story you’re not telling me.”

  “Oh, it’s crazy stuff. My fiancé broke off our engagement the night before our wedding and married my sister Edie in Vegas. This was several years ago. I was not amused at the time, but I can laugh at it now.”

  “Gail, that’s awful! I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I moved on, though my choices in men have been pitiful since then. And my last boyfriend broke up with me recently, and I’d just had it. Relationships didn’t seem to be working for me, so why was I trying? I needed to take some time to have some fun and regroup, get a different perspective. So, here I am.”

  “I’m glad you were able to bounce back, though it sucks you’ve been through such rotten things lately. But you’re enjoying yourself, right? Where are you? Venice? Naples?”

  “Rome, actually. But I’ll be going with Benedetto next week to Naples to explore the city and see his vineyard.”

  “Benedetto, huh?” I could almost hear the smile in her voice. “You made a conquest, didn’t you?”

  I scoffed. “I don’t know about that, but the Italian men I’ve met are very forward and friendly and all about the touching. It takes some getting used to, but I don’t mind it with Ben. I’m willing to go along for the ride. I’m having fun, and so is he.”

  “Well, that makes me happy.” I heard a child’s voice say, “Mamá?” I heard Rena chuckle. “Uh-oh. It sounds like one of the twins is awake. Will you be heading to Barcelona on your trip through Europe?”

  “Definitely, especially if I know you’re there. I would love to see you in person.”

  “Me, too! I’m so glad we connected, Gail. Please keep in touch. I’m on FB throughout the day, but you can also send me an email or text me through WhatsApp using this number if you want.”

  “I will. Love you, Rena.”

  “Love you, Gail. Talk soon.” After she hung up, I lay on the bed to take my own riposo before going out in the late afternoon to listen to a local band Abramo had told me about.

  Chapter Four

  Ben

  It was a beautiful day for a drive.

  The convertible, which my cousin had returned to me without a scratch, thankfully, was purring as we drove along early on a Thursday morning, the wind in Gail’s hair, which she held back with a scarf, as we drove down the E45 toward Naples.

  I pointed out things of interest along the way and answered her questions about the national park and what it was like growing up in my Napoli. “I got into a lot of trouble, as a boy,” I said, and she laughed.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Do you have many siblings?”

  “Oh, there are six of us. I am the middle child, with two older brothers—Domenico and Filberto—and three younger sisters—Luisella, Jolanda, and Ines. All of them are married, except Ines, who prefers her studies to people. She is a professor at the University of Hamburg and speaks five languages. She is definitely the overachiever among all of us, though that could be because she’s the youngest and wants to stand out.”

&nbs
p; Gail said, “Well, you have a restaurant and a vineyard. Sounds like overachievement runs in the family.”

  I smirked. “Perhaps.” Almost three hours later, we arrived in Naples, and I drove slowly through the downtown traffic—people and cars—pointing out more things of interest.

  When I drove through a red light and narrowly avoided an oncoming car, Gail gave me a look. “Um, do traffic lights mean nothing to you?”

  “It depends on the situation,” I replied with a grin, and proceeded to run a few more, laughing when she covered her face.

  “You’re crazy,” she said as she peeked through her fingers, one hand now gripping the door.

  “If you think this is bad, you should drive with the other members of my family. I am tame by comparison.”

  “That makes me shudder.” She squealed as we turned a corner a little faster than necessary, and I laughed when she hit me lightly on the shoulder. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Forse,” I replied with a wink.

  “Maybe? Definitely!” I should have Gail drive with my brother Filberto, though she may never forgive me if she survived the trip.

  “I will make it up to you soon, I promise,” I replied, blowing her a kiss. Her glare said she was skeptical, but I knew once she saw the vineyard, it wouldn’t even be an issue. It was my own slice of heaven.

  Half an hour later, we turned onto a road that ran down the middle of a large field of grapevines. Gail gasped. “You call this small?” she said, her neck craning as she tried to take it all in.

  “Well, it is in comparison to other vineyards. It’s just the right size for my family to manage,” I said and slowly passed a few cyclists who were taking a tour of the area. “We offer tours during the off-season, and meals, things like that. It keeps the money coming in until it’s time for the harvest.”

  “This is amazing,” she said as we arrived at the top of the hill, exited the car and looked at the land below. “Ben. This view! How do you leave it? It’s magnificent!” I loved that she felt that way.

  “I agree.” I pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I come here as often as I can because I miss it. But I also enjoy the hustle of Rome and meeting people. It’s nice to have the best of both worlds, wouldn’t you say?”

 

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