Ashes of Autumn (Mina's Adventures Book 4)

by Maria Grazia Swan

  Magnifico.

  Gino noticed her and came over, “Are you going to join me while Margo does una sfilata?”

  “Una what?”

  “Try on clothes and walk out to show us. When it’s done by models, it’s called sfilata. Nice,” he said, looking at a dress she had separated from the rest.

  “It should be. It’s Valentino.”

  “Red. It’s your color. Are you trying it on?” Now that he spoke Italian with Mina the salesladies kept their distance.

  “Noooo, I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t care if it’s on sale, it’s too expensive.”

  “It doesn’t cost to try it on, and I bet Margo would welcome the company in the fitting room. She seems a little overwhelmed by the help. Isn’t this the place where you two always shop?” He pulled out the red strapless dress with the full balloon skirt and looked at Mina. “Yes, this should fit you.” He handed it to her, and like a good little girl she went to join Margo in the fitting room, shaking her head all the way there.

  By the time they left South Coast Plaza stars were shining in the sky, and the three of them were tired. They ate at the Nordstrom café, and Gino discovered that Americans could make a salad into a meal and other random oddities Mina had always found perfectly normal. Like cinnamon on cappuccino…

  Margo’s dress needed minor alterations so they planned to return the next day to pick it up, and Gino decided strappy sandals should be purchased to complete the look. Mina had a meeting with Adams and the insurance company people so she wouldn’t be joining them. That was a good thing because she felt a little like the third wheel (Finally she could use that cliché in the proper way) and wasn’t sure if it was okay for Gino to tell Margo how to dress. Then again Margo was a big girl and could take care of herself. She always did before, except, she never met a Gino before.

  The night of the Enchanted Evening finally arrived, and Margo looked elegant and fabulous. In other words, she didn’t look like Margo at all. The black lace cocktail dress emphasized her bust without looking tacky. The skirt had a cut that hugged the hips but opened toward the hem so she could dance, and somehow Gino managed to convince her to change her hairdo–much shorter, no wild curls, a rich shade of brown. She looked good enough to grace the pages of a fashion magazine.

  “Whoa, Margo, you look good enough to meet the queen of England.”

  To which her roommate curtsied. She insisted on driving her own car over to Gino’s place so they could walk over to the restaurant/ballroom.

  “Don’t wait up for me,” were her parting words.

  Mina went to bed early and watched Married…with Children. She always compared old sex-crazy cheap-looking Marcy to Margo, until now that was. She still couldn’t believe what a difference the right man could make. If it lasted of course. Would tonight be the night? She still couldn’t decide if not telling Margo about Gino’s prosthesis could change the way the evening evolved between them. Then again, Gino never questioned her. Really, it wasn’t any of her business, or was it? A sense of guilt came over her. She tried to remember her reaction when Gino showed his prosthesis that evening at Emilia’s place. Surprise? Yes, but also a sense of respect for the way the man handled himself and his handicap. Difference was…no emotional involvement existed between them. Margo on the other hand…

  She fell asleep after the late news with the television still on and Aria curled up against her side.

  Her shoulder hurt. Mina fought the bad dream, trying to shake the pain.

  “Wake up. Wake up.” This wasn’t a dream.

  She opened her eyes. Margo stood above her, tugging at her arm so hard it felt like it was coming out of the socket. “Hey, stop it, are you nuts?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?” More a wail than a question.

  Mina noticed how disheveled her roommate appeared. Her mascara had run down her cheeks all the way to her chin. That takes a lot of crying. Her perfect hairdo needed some serious combing, but her clothing was still on, intact. What was going on?

  “What are you talking about? What time is it?”

  “Gino.” A short sob. “His foot.” She waited.

  Ai-ai, here we go. “What about it?” Like a true coward she managed to keep a straight face, which must have frustrated Margo.

  “Don’t confuse me. You had to know.”

  “Know that Gino wears a prosthesis? He did mention it once in Italy. So…what’s the big deal? You woke me up to tell me that? Well, thank you. Now can I go back to sleep, please?” She knew she sounded like a heartless bitch, sounded? Was. But if Margo rejected Gino because of that, well, she deserved no sympathy. She turned her back to Margo and pulled the blanket over her shoulders disturbing little Aria. “Turn off the light on your way out,” she said, then she waited. She felt the weight on the bed as Margo sat on the edge. Soul searching time?

  “I feel terrible,” Margo whispered.

  With a loud sigh, Mina sat up. “What happened? How about you tell me?”

  “Nothing and everything. We had such a good time. Dinner was great. We sat with other couples, and I got so many compliments, and Gino was telling Italian lawyers’ jokes with his funny accent, and everyone loved him, and then we danced, and it was magical. We strolled back to his place under a full moon. I felt like Cinderella. This was the best evening of my life, magical. And then… ” Her voice trailed off.

  “Then what?” Mina’s tone echoed Margo’s.

  “He removed his shoes. And I saw.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. I’m sure my expression said it all. I read the heartbreak in his eyes, then he asked, ‘You didn’t know?’ His voice–his voice–I can’t explain. I grabbed my purse and ran out.”

  “That bad, heh? Oh, well, it was too good to be true.” Mina kept her eyes on Margo, fought the urge to hug her friend.

  “What do you mean? Too good to be true?”

  “You know? The sophisticated lawyer, the trusting American woman, the international romance.” Suddenly Mina felt like she was projecting shadows of her Diego fantasies onto her friend’s failed love affair. “Anyway, if a missing limb is so dreadful to you, so be it. Better quit while you’re ahead.” Good Mina, be a bitch to the end.

  Margo batted her eyelashes, looking at Mina as is she were a fire-breathing dragon. “What the hell are you saying? I’m talking to you to see if you can help me out of this mess, and your solution is better quit while you’re ahead? Ahead of what?”

  “Didn’t you just tell me you ran out of Gino’s place because you were totally turned off by his missing foot?”

  “Noooo. I said I ran out of there because I couldn’t stand looking at the pain I caused him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. What do I do now?”

  “You go back there, and you tell Gino what you just told me. But only if you mean it. Margo, do you like him or are you smitten by his lifestyle?”

  “Like him? Damn it, Mina. I love my guy. No one has ever treated me the way he does. He makes me feel special. No. He makes me feel loved.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands.

  Mina believed her. “I suggest you go back there and tell him exactly what you just told me and see what happens. That’s the best suggestion I have for you.”

  Margo stood, her hands on her hips, and Mina noticed she carried her spiky sandals in her purse. “Thanks. I’m going back and tell him how I feel while I fuck his brains out.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Mina said, keeping her fingers crossed under the blanket. “Hey, Margo, shouldn’t you take some daytime clothes with you?”

  “Good idea.” The voice came from the stairs.

  She heard Margo rush back up, then down again. Five minutes later the front door slammed.

  Mina turned off the nightlight.

  CHAPTER 20

  It was middle afternoon when the house phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mina, Gino wants to know if he can cook dinner fo
r us at the house.”

  “Our house? I guess–but why?”

  “He wants real Italian food and decided to cook it himself. Plus, he thinks you’re too skinny.” A giggle.

  “Too skinny? Shut up. What do I need to get? Margo, it’s Sunday afternoon, Italian delis are closed.”

  “Nothing, he’s taking care of everything. He probably had this planned all along…hey…stop it. Sorry, he just threw a pillow at me. See you in a bit.”

  Margo sounded…happy, and much more together than when she sat on Mina’s bed during the night. Her fucking his brains out plan must have worked, and the sex must have been good. Sex. How would she ever be able to think of sex with someone other than Diego? He had been her one and only for the past two years. Well, he didn’t have any problem switching partners. She thought about their unprotected sex in Italy. She had been that confident he felt the same way about her. Better make an appointment with her gynecologist. She sighed at life’s unpredictability. Only a month ago she felt sorry for Margo who couldn’t seem to find a soul mate, and now Margo had met her perfect match, and Mina was more alone and lost than ever before.

  Margo arrived first. Happiness exuded from her pores. She didn’t say a thing but grabbed Mina by the waist and twirled her around in spite of Mina’s loud objections. “Stop it, I’m getting motion sickness.”

  “Okay, you’re such a sissy. I’m going to change.” She headed upstairs. No mention of what happened, then again, one only had to look at her to know magic still existed.

  Gino called from the parking lot. He needed help with all the stuff he brought. Mina and Margo rushed out. They caught Aria just in time before she managed to escape into the grassy front. When he had announced he would take care of everything, he meant it. Mina expected some pasta dish, the most commonly missed food among Italian visitors. Regardless of how authentic an Italian restaurant in California was, it was never good enough to them. To her delight he had a whole different menu in mind. He took over the kitchen, not that anyone would contest that. Neither Margo nor Mina knew how to cook. All the commotion with cleaning, chopping, preparing, reminded Mina of Emilia’s kitchen. She sat on a tall stool and watched him. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “Where did you learn how to cook?” she asked.

  He laughed, amused. “Mina, we are Italian, is in our blood. I learned the basics from my mother before she passed way too soon, then I was forced to cook to feed my sisters. Now I do it because I love to. Don’t you cook at all?’

  “Huum, well–I was going to learn, you know, sign up for a class, but then…” She almost said then Diego left me. She bit her lip and looked away. She felt his glance on her, not the eyes of fun Gino, winking Gino. It was a whole different man in front of her. It must have been the real face of Diego’s associate.

  “You know, Mina, for a young woman who wears her emotions on her face, you are…” He paused, “…intriguing.” He shook his head as if wanting to remove the thought from his mind.

  There wasn’t a thing she could say because he was either hinting at her relationship with Diego or that she didn’t share much with her best friend, Margo. Either subject was best left untouched. She smiled and winked at him. Two can play that game.

  In the dining room, Margo was busy scouting for napkins and silverware. The aroma of the slowly simmering risotto con funghi was enough to make a garden gnome salivate. Gino was going all out, a traditional Northern Italian meal. After the risotto with mushrooms he had scaloppine al Marsala with patatine fritte and steamed asparagus. No dessert and thank God, no cappuccino, espresso instead. From time to time Margo rushed into the kitchen, hugged Gino very tight around the chest, rested her head on his back, then ran back to set the table, all without a word. The flash of tenderness on the man’s face told Mina she had been right–it was a good match.

  By the time dinner was ready, while uncorking a bottle, out of the blue, Gino said, “We should have asked Detective De Fiore to join us.”

  Mina and Margo’s answer was like a chorus. “Who?”

  He paused, seemed baffled. “Detective De Fiore, your Italian friend.”

  “Danny Boy,” Mina hummed.

  “Italian friend,” Margo teased. “He’s Japanese.”

  Gino’s eyes darted from one woman to the other.

  “She’s telling the truth,” Mina said. “I know it’s confusing. De Fiore is his stepdad’s last name. He adopted Dan when he was just a little boy, but by birth he is full blooded Japanese.” She waited for Gino to ask why she didn’t tell him that when he first asked back in Italy, instead he once again declared, “Intriguing. It’s too bad. I would have liked to see the inside of an American police department.”

  “Gino, I’m sure the detective would be happy to give you a tour. I’ll give you his cell number, and you can call him. Or I can call him for you. He’s always trying to set Margo up with one of his coworkers.”

  “Shut up, Mina.”

  “Is it true?” he asked.

  Mina nodded, while Margo kicked her from under the table.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to Los Angeles. I have an appointment at the Consolato Italiano.”

  “What? Your passport is expiring or something?” Mina asked.

  He smiled, shaking his head. “No, of course not. I want to see if they have an opening for a lawyer.”

  “Ah!” Margo jumped off the chair in such hurry she knocked it over. She went to hug Gino. “You were serious. You are really going to move here. I’m so happy–”

  “Wait, cara, wait. I’m going there to inquire. I’m not sure they’ll hire me.”

  “Yes, they will. Yes, they will.”

  Mina got up and began to clear the table.

  On Monday, Mina drove back to Adams’s office. The insurance carrier for the Laguna Canyon house had refused to accept the claim, something to do with negligence, and since it was all foreign to Mina, she spent most of the time just sitting there listening to the lawyers arguing. At first they tried to shift the responsibility to the Kathy O’Sullivan estate claiming she probably ignited whatever it was that caused the blow up. The police autopsy showing she died of a gunshot eliminated that possibility, and since there was no natural gas supplied to the house, the gas company couldn’t be blamed. Then they fought over the deed recording time. Who was the legal owner of the house the minute it blew up?

  Margo went to the meeting with her because she didn’t want to sit at home with the cat while Gino was in Los Angeles for the day. By the time they left Adams’s office Mina had a headache. They decided to stop by South Coast Plaza to eat something and maybe go to a movie. “Margo your new haircut is very nice, very sophisticated.”

  “Isn’t it? And no more curlers. I wash, blow it dry, and that’s it. I’m done in twenty minutes. So glad I listened to Gino. Oh, Mina, what am I going to do when he leaves? I’m going to die.”

  “No, you won’t. You can communicate. Maybe you can go visit. Don’t get all sad on me, okay?” They parked across from Nordstrom. It happened every time they went to that mall. It was as if the car had a mind of its own and they parked by their favorite store.

  “Let’s just cut through it, okay? No looking, no trying on clothes. By the way, how much did they charge you for alterations?” Mina asked.

  “I don’t know, Gino insisted on paying for it.”

  “He paid for the alterations?”

  “No. He paid for the whole thing, dress, sandals…well not for my underwear, and he should have because–”

  “La-la-la, too much information. Why did you let him pay for your dress?”

  “Why not? I will probably never wear it again. Plus, I don’t have a load of money like you do.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Then mumbling, “Load of money… really.”

  “You do have money, and you know what? You were a lot more fun when you didn’t. That cute red dress you tried on the other day? It’s like it was made just for you. It needed nothing, and it made you look like you had boobs. Yo
u should have bought it, but no… too much money. You’re cheap.”

  “I’m not.”

  They argued all the way to the designer floor. Mina looked around. “How in hell did we end up here?”

  “It’s the red Valentino number calling your name. Can you hear it? Miiinaaa, come get me.”

  Mina laughed. How could she not? Margo was just too funny. And she ended up trying on the dress again, it was now fifteen percent lower than the first time. At Margo’s insistence she bought it, figuring she could always return it. They spent the next hour trying on costume jewelry. Margo wanted to try on rings, just to see what type of stone would complement her finger. Then they skipped the movie and drove all the way to Crystal Cove to eat at some beach cafe Margo liked a lot. They ended up taking half the food home because of the generous servings. By the time they unlocked the front door the streetlights were lit, and the house phone was ringing.

  “Hellooo.” Margo answered.

  “Oh, ciao, Gino.”

  Mina looked at Margo. Ciao? Gino must be teaching her Italian.

  “Really? That would be so cool. When is it? Thursday? This Thursday? Okay, let me ask her.”

  “Ask me what?” Mina grabbed the kitten and sat her on her lap.

  “Gino said there is a party sponsored by the Italian…something group–I can’t remember–but it’s for a good cause, and he wants us to go with him. It’s not in Los Angeles but around there. Let’s go, I’ll wear my black dress, and you can wear your Valentino. What do you say?”