It was a hot day when Duccio, Gaetano and I helped Michelle move into Lucy’s apartment. I said goodbye to Lucy, who went to the airport having never made any headway with her butcher crush.
On a run back to Via Stalloreggi, we stopped in Crai to buy some drinks. On line in the store was Kaitlin. Gaetano saw her first and picked her up, so she dropped her groceries as he kissed her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I forgot when I was supposed to come, so I left Paris, since I couldn’t get in touch with you.”
“That’s so like you,” I said laughing and kissing her. Back at Via Stalloreggi, Lisa and Janine made annoyed faces at Kaitlin when she arrived. Last night’s harmony was over.
“And Olivia is coming to stay here tomorrow?” Janine asked with a smirk.
“Maybe, since we’re all packed already, we should stay at your place.” I said hopefully to Michelle. I was just saying it, not really expecting it to work. That would mean I would leave Via Stalloreggi just like that.
“Do it up, G-dog.”
“I could get a room,” Kaitlin said. She could see I hadn’t really thought this through. But it was the obvious choice. I no longer had to stay and deal with my roommates. I had options.
“C’mon, K. We’ve got to save money,” I heard myself saying. “It’s almost better to do it like this. This way, I don’t get all emotional about it. It’s a big deal, but you know, it’s better to just go with it. Andiamo.”
I went into my room and threw the last of my stuff into the bag. If I stayed too long looking at the view, I knew I was going to cry. And so with one glance over the roofs to the countryside, I said goodbye to the room and the little bed that had been my home for five months.
Then we were outside the walls, drinking on what was once Lucy’s balcony. There had been no time to write to Kaitlin about what happened with Gaetano, but it became obvious when he kissed me goodbye.
“Oh,” Kaitlin said, nodding. “I get it. You took my advice. Good girl.”
I ignored her and asked Gaetano to stay a little longer.
“I should let you and your friends hang out tonight on your own.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t know she was coming today. I’m sorry.”
“We’ll meet up tomorrow in the campo.”
Once Duccio and Gaetano were gone, we sunned ourselves, drinking white wine. It was easy to just be with Kaitlin and Michelle. In the morning Olivia was coming and we could watch the choosing of the contrade.
“So you guys both got yourselves Italian stallions, huh?” Kaitlin said teasing.
“There’s still a chance for you, don’t worry,” Michelle said.
The next morning, after we met Olivia at the bus stop, we went to a crowded campo where people were gathering. The sun shone on the piazza, making everything seem golden instead of pink.
The announcer began to name names of the neighborhoods that would race in the Palio. Gaetano explained to us in slow Italian so Kaitlin could understand why certain contrade were more excited than others. There were long standing rivalries and neighborhoods that hadn’t won in a long time. There was energy in the air, the bursts of excitement when the contrade were chosen. Only ten neighborhoods got the honor of having their horse race in July. Seven would have to wait until the August Palio. Three neighborhoods got to run in both.
“You can feel it,” I said, holding out my goose-pimpled arm to Gaetano.
“Wait until July for the Palio,” Gaetano said. “You will never feel anything like it.”
Duccio wasn’t with us but standing with his contrada. Michelle decided to stay with the Americans, but we all exchanged kisses with Duccio’s mom who seemed to think it was cute that we supported our adopted contrada, leone.
Janine was standing with Andrea’s contrada. Her blonde hair stood out against the brilliant colors in the piazza. She was wearing a bright blue sundress and smiling. She waved over at the stranieri like she was genuinely glad to see us but just couldn’t pull herself away from being Andrea’s arm candy.
“She’s as fake as a three dollar bill, isn’t she?” Olivia asked.
“Yep!” Michelle said and then cheered loudly when Duccio’s contrada was selected, drawing looks from our neighbors. She feigned being a confused American.
“Are you doing that for him or his mom?” I teased. But then I cheered when my contrada, or the contrada of Via Stalloreggi, the leone, was selected. Everyone just wanted to belong.
After the presentation, Michelle insisted on getting gelato.
“For Gabi is tartufo, for Michelle is gelato, for Olivia I donno what is,” Gaetano said to Kaitlin.
“Pane proscuitto,” Olivia said.
“Brava,” Gaetano said. “Kaiti, what is for you?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Kaitin winking, up for a challenge. “Maybe I can figure it out over the summer. Hey, Gabriella, can we climb the tower now or what?”
I almost forgot. I handed in the last of my papers. I was no longer a student, at least not in this country. I could climb the tower without bad luck.
“I have to go get the vespa,” Gaetano said, following Kaitlin’s gaze. “And I still haven’t graduated.”
“I’m still taking the language class until the end of June,” Michelle said. “I’m paid up. It can’t hurt to continue.”
I looked at Olivia. “You ready?”
She shook her head. She was afraid of heights. “I’m not sure.”
“C’mon,” I said. Then I quoted her back to herself. “Just have fun.”
So the three of us climbed the tower. It was the first of many tourist attractions the three of us would see together. We stopped at each of the windows to look out over the piazza and beyond Siena into Tuscany. There were 306 steps and we went slowly. Kaitlin and I held onto Olivia.
When we reached the top, we could see everything. I felt triumphant. Not just because I was no longer a student in Siena, but also because I had made it through the whole semester. I had learned a new language and more. I wasn’t sure when I was going to go home to the states. I didn’t know what lay ahead, but for now, I let my worries float out over Tuscany. For tonight and for as long as I could, I was going to go with the flow. I was going to just have fun.
I would live and make choices and decisions and never be certain of the outcome until it was too late to undue. But that was okay. I would follow my life’s path. I would play my cards. I hoped to make the trains I should and miss the ones that I shouldn’t catch.
I had finished my semester.
Later in the evening, we all met back in the piazza. The sun set over the pink bricks. We American girls wore sweatshirts over our denim skirts. We refused to wear pants. We had lived through the cold winter, and now was the time for smooth bare legs. We were drinking supermarket wine and eating panini.
The feeling in the campo was so perfect that I didn’t ever want to let it go. Everyone was drunk. We were going to drink the American way. The die hard Sienese were decked out in their contrada colors. Some people were even dressed in medieval costumes of multicolored tunics and tights, singing songs that had existed for hundreds of years.
Duccio teased me that I should be a horse jockey for the Palio. Michelle told Duccio and me a story of the first time she was on a horse. She was speaking Italian better than I thought that she could. She used the imperfect to describe something.
“Michelle, wow!”
‘What?”
“You just spoke so well,” I said. Duccio laughed and kissed Michelle.
“I teach ’er good, no?” he asked in English.
“Yeah.”
Then he kissed her again. I smiled at their love. Michelle was never going to leave Siena. She was going to keep putting off her departure. She was never going back to school. She was going to prove Lucy wrong about being with the person you love at nineteen or twenty.
Michelle, who couldn’t speak a word of Italian at the start of the semester, would sur
pass any of the stranieri in her language skills.
She would choose her English carefully when old friends came to visit, but even her English would be punctuated by Italian gestures and expressions. She would give herself over completely to this country. I will never know if she has stopped doing damage to herself or if she still carried her pain into the darkness, but I like to believe that she really has found another way.
That night in the campo, all of the stranieri from my group were coming up to hug Michelle and me goodbye and discuss our plans for the summer. Several of them were returning home, but many were staying in Italy or traveling through Europe like us. I felt like all the world was in the Piazza del Campo. And anyone who wasn’t there should not have mattered to me.
My little crew of American girls was getting giddier and giddier. Michelle couldn’t stop kissing Duccio. Kaitlin was enjoying random men in the piazza who loved her red hair. Olivia was flirting shamelessly with Dino.
Italy had changed all of us. There was that confidence in the way Michelle let her r’s roll. There were friends of Gaetano’s that Olivia knew, and she kissed them on the cheek casually. I felt my walk had almost returned to what it once was. I didn’t feel like my old self again, though. I felt like I had become someone else who I could almost like.
Around one, Duccio had to get back so his mother wouldn’t worry. He wanted to give us all ride to Michelle’s place, but she wanted some time alone with him before we all went back.
“Andiamo,” Michelle said over and over again. She kept winking at Duccio. They went off and the campo started to clear out shortly afterward. The diehards were still there. They would sing until the sun rose because they were happy their contrada could race.
“I think it’s time to head back,” I said to Olivia after another hour.
“We do have to get up kind of early tomorrow,” Olivia said. “And I think we’ve given Michelle and Duccio enough time.”
“It’s not going to happen for you and Dino tonight, is it?” I asked as Dino was starting to kiss us goodbye.
“No.”
“Maybe when we come back.” I offered. But she shrugged. For her it was all good. Whatever happened would be.
The best thing to do about getting Kaitlin, who was the most drunk, home was to put her on the back of Gaetano’s vespa. Olivia and I could follow behind on foot. Kaitlin smiled and her teeth were stained gray from the cheap Chianti. She wrapped her arms around Gaetano and tried to tell him things in Italian.
When Gaetano zoomed off, she was barely holding on. It was frightening, but we heard her screaming “sessooooooo.” Halfway down the Via Martonioni, Kaitlin’s sandal came off, and Gaetano stopped further away. Olivia and I ran down the street to get the shoe.
“Just keep going,” I shouted at him. “We’ll give it to her when we get back.”
Michelle was standing on the balcony when we got to her house. We waved up at her, whistling. Olivia helped Kaitlin with her shoe, trying to steady her.
Gaetano parked his bike. He and I stared at each other. This was it. Even as he was kissing Olivia and Kaitlin goodbye and wishing them a good trip, he was looking at me.
“We’re going to go up,” Olivia said.
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I said.
“You sure?” And I nodded. I wanted to make sure Kaitlin was okay. We had to get up early in the morning to catch the train. I watched them close the portone. I knew that above me, Michelle went back inside.
Gaetano sighed and said, “Bella.” I didn’t want to do it. I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to him. I left my apartment in a hurry and it didn’t feel too bad. Maybe I could leave him quick, too. I was going to see him again.
“It’s only a month,” I offered.
“Yes, so you’ve told me.”
“It’s true.”
“You want to go check on Kaiti.”
“Yes, and I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Okay, so go check on Kaiti.”
“But you seem sad,” I said.
“Because I am.”
“Gaetano,” I let my voice ring in a bit of a whine.
“Go,” he said. I kissed him and then I hugged him and then I kissed him again.
“I’ll call you when we get to Nice.” I said, trying not to let my voice shake. He didn’t look at me as I let him go. My chest was tight. I whispered ciao as I closed the door.
Michelle was sitting up in bed. Kaitlin was lying on a pillow in the other twin bed with her hands over her eyes. She was moaning.
“I thought you’d have taken a little longer to say goodbye,” Michelle said.
“Me too,” Olivia said.
“How is she doing?” I asked, nodding toward Kaitlin who had taken off her skirt but not her sweatshirt.
“We’re keeping a basket by the bed,” Olivia said.
“It’s under control,” Michelle said.
Outside we could hear Gaetano trying to rev up the vespa.
“You okay there, little Kaitlin?” I asked.
“Uh-huh,” Kaitlin groaned weakly.
“Maybe you should try to throw up,” Michelle said. She caught my skeptical look. “C’mon, sometimes it works. You’re going to sleep with her?”
“Ughh, yeah, you are,” said Olivia, climbing in bed with Michelle.
I went by the window. The bike started, it was idling outside. Gaetano glanced up at me and looked back down.
“Guys, would it be wrong of me to go with Gaetano tonight?”
“No,” Kaitlin yelled from the bed.
“I was wondering why you even came back up,” Michelle said.
“There will be plenty of time for bonding,” Olivia said. I looked at the three of them, my friends who would be by my side in one way or another for the rest of my life. Olivia smiled at me. “Anyway, worse comes to worse, there’s always another train. Just. Have. Fun”
“It will clear up the sleep issue.” I pushed open both doors onto the terrace. I called down. “Gaetano.”
“Dimmi,” he said looking up. He was already smiling.
“Vado con te.” I will go with you.
“Allora, vieni,” he said, smiling. Come.
Through the darkened city I ride with the man who is a true friend. What will happen between us in the future is not important. What we have is now. I am almost twenty-one. I am as young as I will never be again. I know this and appreciate it. My youth is mine to treasure. I close my eyes and tilt my head as the man driving the vespa goes up one of the hills in a city I think of as home. Tomorrow I will leave for the first stop on a voyage that will have many stops. But before that he is driving me through the night to his room.
My name is the same but accented differently now, and I answer to other names depending on who is calling. I am no longer running away. I love this beautiful medieval solace of a city.
My past is behind me, my future ahead. Nothing has changed. Nothing has disappeared. I might still see ghosts lingering against the tall reddish buildings. I might never be rid of all my ghosts but tonight that is quite all right. Because I am here.
The man on the vespa drives through the city. He stops at the gate of the monastery, turns off the vespa. He’s moving in slow motion. I touch his cheek.
“Don’t be sad,” I say. “It’s only a month.”
“I know,” he says, he looks away. Then he looks back at me with shining gray eyes. “But will you come back?”
“Pazzo,” I say, kissing his lips. “Of course.”
I make no other promises about the future because I do not know what train my life will take. But if I am able, if I can find a way, I will always return to Italy.
Basta cosi.
Grazie
Like some of the characters in this book, I believe you don’t need to say thank you to your friends. I also know that sometimes a little acknowledgement is nice.
To my dear group of girlfriends: for inspiring my characters, supporting my endeavors, checking in and the cons
tant cheerleading you all do so well.
To Kelly Blair: As always, yet as never before, you put your heart into this one. What Celine says is true. I just hope to tell you in the perfect smelling spot some day.
To Kristy Leissle: For late night DR sessions, reminding me that fun is NOT an intervention and informing every character since the D-evolution.
To Lynn Messina: For returning my constant volley of emails with your own strong serves, for emergency cheese and for being a dynamo.
To Karen Oh: For making my online life prettier and my real life MEATIER. Bronche!
To Corby and Lundgren: For photographing, calming and summer of funning.
To Aunt Anita: For all your thoughtful gifts.
To my dad, Rocco Papa: For surviving a very different trip when you were “barely twenty” with your spirit intact.
To YOU: For supporting this independent author.
And “credits” to my team at Papa Mike Publishing HQ. From the mascot who teaches me about the finer things in life to the intern and junior associate who respect when the day is done and it’s time to punch out so we can really get to work. But most of all thanks to the editor-at-large who not only encourages me to go beyond the red rooftops, but helps me find ways of getting there.
Contents
GENNAIO
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
FEBBRAIO
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
MARZO
11.
12.
13.
14.
APRILE
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
MAGGIO
20.
A Semester Abroad Page 25