Happened in Tuscany

by Lorena Franco

  "It must be Mom" Amy said. I felt downright stupid to look at her and to think ... "Oh, Mom!"Asifthatcrazyteenagerweremydaughterandhermother,mywife.Ofcourse,onthe otherhand,Iamoldenoughtohaveafifteen-year-olddaughterandawifewhohaspreferred torunawayfromthathouse,becausethehosthasn´ttreatedherasshedeserved.

  WhenIopenedthedoor,IfoundtheonethatyearsagoIactuallythoughtthatshewouldbe my wife in the future. There she was, my summer love of twenty-eight years ago. Instead of lookingattheforty-year-oldwomaninfrontofme,Isawagainthatteenagegirlwithlonglegs andvelvetybrownskinwhoIwascrazyabout.Nowherhairismuchshorter,buthereyes,the samecolorasthecoffee,haven´tstoppedshiningthroughtheyears.Shesmilesatme,andIcan

  ´thelpbutdothesame,atseeingthatherfigurehasacquiredavoluptuousandattractivecurves undertheflowereddressshewears.

  "HiMark"shesays,hervoiceverydifferentfromwhatIremembered.Ididnotthinkyou werehere...Isawthelightsonanddecidedtocome.

  "Alotoftimehaspassedby."

  "IdidnotthinkI'dseeyouagain"shesaidhappily."Buttheotherday,bychance,Isawyou inaculinaryprogram.IwasverysurprisedandIrecognizedyourightaway."

  "What'shappeninghere?"Amyinterrupted.

  "Oh..."Isabellastammered,staringatthecrazyteenager,andthenatme.

  "She'snotmydaughter"Isaidatonce.

  "Ihaveason"Isabellasaidtome."Aboutyourage."

  "I´mAmy."

  "Isabella,delighted."

  "Arethereyoungpeopleinthisdesert?"Amyaskedinabadway.

  "Desert?"Isabellasaid."Thisisanythingbutadesert.Donotyouthinkthisisanamazing place?"

  "Notreally,no"Amycontinued.

  "Youwanttocomein,Isabella?"Isuggested."Wehavepreparedpizza,ifyouwouldlike

  ...

  "Iwouldlike,yes."

  Itwasstrangetobewithher.Butstrangerwastohavethe"nuisance"calledAmynearby.

  Even so, I learned that Isabella had been living in Florence since moving with her parents years ago. She had studied business, she became the vice president of a textile fashion companyandhadbeenthesinglemotherofaseventeen-year-oldboy.AtnopointdidIwantto bother her by asking her why she was a single mother; Although I was curious about the circumstances that had led her not to marry or to live with her son's father. As soon as Amy heard of Alessandro, Isabella's son, she bombarded her with questions and wanted to see a photograph of him. I think when she saw him, she completely forgot about her American boyfriendMatt.PoorMatt;Maybeshewillbetheonewhowillendupbreakinghisheartand nottheotherwayaround.

  Ateleveno'clockatnight,AmydecideditwastimetoleavemealonewithIsabellaand shewentupstairstoherbedroom.Ithankedherimmensely,butthehappinessIfeltwhenIwas alonewithIsabella,disappearedatthemoment,whenshesaiditwastoolateanditwasabout timetoleave.

  "AlessandrowillbeangryifI'mlatehome"shesaidwithalaugh."Heisveryprotectiveof me.Iguessit'snormal,wejusthaveeachother."

  "Igetit."

  "Ican´tbelieveyou'renotmarried,Mark.Lookatyou...you'reagoodmatch."

  Ididnotwanttotellherthatshebrokemyheartandthatfromthatmoment,Ibecameajerk afraidofcommitmentandfallinginlove.IcouldnevertellherthatIhadbeenwithcountless womenandthatIdon´trememberthenameofmostofthem,becauseIhadnotbeenmorethan twonightswithanyofthem.Shewouldhatemeforthat.Shewouldthinkofmeastheworst.

  But now that I see her again in front of me, I look at her, and I think that perhaps she could settledown at myforty-three years, withthe only woman Iwasn´t afraid tofall in love with becauseofthenaivetyoftheadolescence.

  "Howlongareyoustaying?"Iaskedher.

  "AllAugust.Ihaverentedoneofthehousesonthehill,whichwasformerlytheSoverinnis

  ´.RemembertheSoverinnis?"

  "Yes,youreallygoodfriendof...whatwashername?"

  "Raquel."

  "Yes,Rachel."

  "Raquelwasalsoverymuchinlovewithyou,youknow?"

  "Ionlyhadeyesforyouthen."

  Shenoddedandwithasadsmile,shewavedgoodbyeandclimbdownthehill.Toomany memories.Itwasoverwhelmingandherpresencehadbeenasstrangeasadreamfromwhich youdon´twanttowakeup.

  Ipickedupthedishes,pouredmyselfaglassofwhiskeyandsatonthefrontoftheporch waitingforAmy'smothertodeigntoshowup.Butwhatawaytoshowup!Shewasveryclose toAngeloCravioto,theidiotwhoposedasmyfriendathousandyearsago.Anidiotwholiked

  all the girls. Absolutely all of them and especially the innocent Americans who dreamed of livingalovestoryinacornerofTuscany.AngeloCraviotowaswillingtobetheidylliclove of many young women, who would then return to America with a broken heart; But with a

  "pretty"andintensesummerlovestorywithwhichtheycouldboastinfrontoftheirfriends.

  Howthehellhadtheymet?Whatwashedoingwithhim?Theywerealittletense,untilhe leftandIwarnedthewriterofRomanticBestSellersnottofallinlovewiththatguy.Idon´t knowwhathethoughtofme.Afterawhile,Iwentupstairsandwenttosleepwithasoundof magicbackground:thefastkeysofthecomputer,fulfillingthemissionofcreatingwithwordsa newstorythat,withoutbeingpassionateaboutnovelsRomantic,Ialreadywantedtoknow.

  ALICE

  Angelo and I walk in the evening on the path towards the village. We look around us, we breathethepureairofthefieldandsuddenlyhehalts.

  "I'msorry,Ican´twaitanylonger"hesays.

  Heholdsmetightfromthewaist.Iknowwhatheisgoingtodo.AndIamgoingtolethim do it. He caresses my cheek with sweetness, looks at me with passion and finally brings his faceclosetomineandkissesmylips.Istopbeinganoldwomanoffortyyears,toreturntobe thatpassionateteenagerwhofellinlovelikecrazyinacampingfromColorado.

  "FEEL,LIVE,COMEBACK"

  "Mom!Mom!Mom!Comeback!Comeback!"

  "What?"

  Amyshakesmeviolently,it'sthebestwayshecanwakemeup.Ipityherchildrenshewill haveinthefuture.

  "I´mback,I´mback...I´mbacknow."

  IclearmymindabitandrealizethatIfellasleepwritinglastnight.Ilookatthecomputer screen and fortunately, my head on the keyboard hasn´t caused any disaster. The first twenty pagesofmynovelaresaveandIcan´tfeelprouderofwhatIhavebeguntowrite.

  "What?Havethemusesreturned?Whattimedidyouarrivelastnight?Whatdidyoudo?

  Whydidnotyoutellmeyouweregoingout?"

  "Stop,stopit!Whoisthemotherhere?Idistractedmyselfandlosttrackofthetimethrough thevillage,thatisall.Andyes,Ifoundsomeinspiration..."

  Asmileappearsonmydrowsyface.Mydaughtersighs,rollinghereyes,andslammingthe door.

  Itakeashower,IputsomemakeuponmydarkcirclestobesomehowdecentincaseIsee Angeloandgodownstairswiththeintentionofdrinkingastrongcoffee.Inthekitchen,Amyis makingpancakes,andMark,sittingonthestool,seemsresignedatthethoughtthatmydaughter hasusurpedhissacredtemple,thespaceinwhichhetolduswhenwearrivedandinverybad waysthatwemustn’tenter.

  "Oh,IseeyoushareyoursacredtemplewithAmy"Isay,smilingandpouringmyselfacup ofcoffee."CanI?"

  "Ofcourse,that'swhatitisfor."

  Iamsurprisedbyhissuddenkindness.Isitbipolarorsomething?Doeshealsoobeyallof Cindy'sorders?DidCindytellhimtobeniceorishenicebecausehewantsto?r />
  "HaveyoutriedAmy'spancakes?"IaskMark.Hesighs,tellsmetokeepsilentonthetopic andlaughs.Itmakesmelaughtoo.Whoknows,hemaynotbesuchajerkasIthought.

  I go out into the back garden and sit down with my cup of coffee. I mentally review everythingI'vewrittenandI'mabletoaddacouplemoreideastothestory.WhenIfinishthe coffeeIstarttoit.IthinkofmydreamwithAngelo.Ithinkmaybe,Ishouldchangetoanother genre,ifIdon´twanttoenduptormentedbykissesthathehasn´tyetgivenme.Formoments thatIhaven´tyetlivedandemotionsthatIdon’treallyfeelinside.

  "It'sagreatdayforadip."

  Mark takes off his shirt and goes straight to the pool. He plunges from the trampoline, swimsabitandwhenhegetsoutofthewater,hesitsnexttome.

  "Youknow?Todayyoushouldgooutandenjoysomewinewithmeinsteadofgoingout withAngelo"Heproposes.

  "WhyshouldIdothat?"

  "Butdon´twearthatreddress.Youshouldlistenmoretoyourdaughter."

  "What?"

  "YouunderstandwhatImean.Whatdoyousay?Doyoufeellikegoingout?"

  "Notreally."

  Helooksatmeseriouslyandshrugs.Iwouldn´twanttopissoffAngelo,Idon´twanthim tothinkthatIamgoingoutwithanyone.OfcourseMarkisn´tanyone...he'sthebrotherofmy literaryagentandfriend,theownerofthehouseinwhichI'mgoingtospendamonthscot-free.

  "Well,maybeyes.Whynot?"

  "I'mbettercompanythanAngelo,believeme."

  "Itwasn´twhatIthoughtofyouthefirsttimeIsawyou"Isaytruthfully.

  "Youhavenoideawhathashappenedtomethattime,doyou?"

  Ishakemyhead.

  "It wasn´t my best night" he begins. "And yes, I'm one of those guys who at forty-three haven´tsettledown,andasawriterofromanticnovelswouldsay,theybreakwomen'shearts.

  I'msorrythatImixedthepersonthatnight,butyoumustadmitthatyouweren´tcomprehensive andattackedmewithoutmercy.Atthatmoment,themostferociousgastronomiccriticofNew YorkcametotherestaurantandIhadtoconvincenottodestroymyworkofmanyyears.Itwas useless. The next day, I had a horrible review in the five most important newspapers of the city,becauseofamistakewithhisseabassandsomethingelseIdidnotknow,accordingtohis words.Heisruiningmybusiness,thepossibilityofopeninganewrestaurantinBrooklynand hasendedmygoodreputation.Iknowthatovertheyears,peoplewillforgetaboutallofthis andmyrestaurantswillonceagainbethriving,butLoganwasabletoclosedownrestaurants andruinexcellentchefsandentrepreneurs.YesitistruethatIhaverunoutofideas,thatmy kitchenisexactlythesameforeightyears,butitgoeswell.Itwassuccessfuljustthewayit was.Ijustwantedtocomeheretorelax,toreflect...andwhenIsawyouIgotpuzzled.You havecompletelychangedmyplans.Butyesterdayyourcrazydaughtermademerealizethatit canbefun.Wecanhaveagoodtime."

  "Pancakes!"Amyyelledfromthekitchen.

  "Irefuse"saysMarkamused.

  "Donotactlikeyouhaven´theardher."Iwinkathimandsigh."Ofcoursewecanhavea goodtime.Ithinkyou'renotasimpertinentasIthoughtatfirstandtobefrank,I'mnotlivingthe besttimeofmylifeeither."

  "Igetit,AmytoldmeaboutJack."

  "Soyouknowthestory."

  "Iamsorry."

  "Well,itiswhatitis...Whocanresistabeautifulyoungwoman?"

  "Idon´t."

  "Thankyou"Isay,wantingtosoundassarcasticaspossible.

  "Butyouareverybeautiful."

  "ButI'mnotyoung."

  "Yesyouare.So,thatwouldmeanthatI'manoldmantoo."

  "No,ofcourseyouarenot."

  "Wearefine.Weareverywell"hesays.

  "Butyouwouldpreferawomaninherthirties,ratherthanoneofforty.AmIwrong?"

  "I'lltellyousomething,Alice.UntiltwodaysagoIthoughtitwasso.Butyesterdayallhas changed."

  Iblushtothinkithassomethingtodowithme.Then,hespeaksagainanddisappointment takesovermywholebeing,uponlearningthatIamverywrongandmaybeoverestimatingme.

  "

  "Ihadatotallyunexpectedvisityesterday.Mylovefromyoungages,Isabella.Sheśyour age.God...she'sbeautifuland..."Hestartslaughingagainandshakeshishead.Idon´tknow whyI'mtellingyouthis."

  "Becauseyoudon´thaveanyoneelsetotell."

  "Pancakes!Theyarewaitingforyou!"ShoutsAmyfromthekitchen.Ishakemyhead.

  "Icantellyourcrazydaughtertoo."Shemether.

  "Ohyeah?Didshebehavewell?"

  "Yes,moreorless.Shewasthrilledtoknowthatthewomanhasaseventeen-year-oldson despitethefactshehasaboyfriend.

  "Boyfriend?"

  "Youdon´tknow?"

  "Matt."Itrytohide.Idon´twanthimtothinkthatinjustafewhourshehavegainedmy daughter'sfullconfidencewhileI,whoamthemotherwhogavebirthtoher,knowsabsolutely nothingaboutherintimatelife.

  "Thatone,Matt.Yourdaughterisgoingtobeaheartbreaker."

  "WhydidyoutellmenottofallinlovewithAngelo?"Iwanttoknow,ignoringthesubject onmydaughterandherconquers,andtakingadvantageofthefactthatMarkseemstohavea niceday.

  "Becausehe'sanidiot.Whenwewerefifteen..."

  "Actually, don´t. Do not tell me more "I interrupt. "You alone have said it all. When you werefifteen.Alifetimehaspassedsincewhateverhedidtoyou,Mark."

  "Iknowtheseguys,Alice.Theydon´tchange,theyneverchange.Notwhentheyarefifteen norfifty.

  "Allright.Andwhydoyouconsideryouchanged?Whydidyou,inafewhours,changed frompreferawomanoffortytooneofthirty?

  "Mysituationisdifferent.

  "MaybeAngeloś,too."

  "Okay,dowhatyouwant."Butthendon´ttellmeIdidnotwarnyou.

  Istareathim.HeissosecureofhimselfthatIfear.Wedon´tknoweachotherabsolutelyat all and believes he is supposed to give me life lessons. Give me advice as a big brother.

  Maybe in a few days I will grant him that permission, but in the meantime, I prefer him to simplyremainthedatethatIdidnothave;thebrotherofmyliteraryagent,whohasn´tdeigned eventoanswerthemessageIsenthimandIknowhehasreceived.

  "Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,IwilldoasIplease.Anddon´tbesurprisedthatIshow upatlatenightathomeorleavewithoutsayingwhereI'mgoing."

  "I'lltellAmy."

  Hesketchesasmileandgoestothekitchen.IhearhimtactfullysayingtoAmy,thatheisn´t hungryandthathedoesn´tfeellikeeatingpancakes.

  CHAPTER6

  MARK

  Augusthasgotextremelyhot.It'sbeenaweeksinceI'vebeenhereandfivedayssinceAlice andherdaughterarrived.Idon´tseeAlicemuch,andourwinetastinginMontepulcianoisstill pending. She locks herself in her bedroom to write for hours, takes a couple of dips in the pool,andoftenIseehersittingundertheweepingwillowreading,takingnotesonanotebook or looking at her cell phone. She disappears without warning, doesn´t even tell her daughter wheresheisgoing.OfcourseAmydoesn´tpaymuchattentiontohermothereither,andwhen they're together, I've noticed how the crazy teenager talks to her with disdain. I´m still not confidentenoughtotellAmysheshouldn´ttalktohermotherlikethat;Butthetruthisthatwe havebecomegoodfriends.Wegetintothekitchenanddevisecombinationsoforiginalflavors, butmostofthemturnouttobeawful.Icangetsomethinggoodoutthere,Istillhavehopes.

  Istaymostofthedayin,butI'veseenIsabellaacoupleoftimes.Infact,I'mtheonewho's going to visit her to the house that she's rented, and Amy has insisted
on accompanying me, becauseshewantstomeetthehandsomeAlessandro.

  "Youaretooannoying.Youknowthat,right?"Itellher.

  "Iknow.Butyouwillnotthinkofleavingmealoneathomewithoutananny"shelaughs.

  We walked down the path. Amy has her gaze fixed on her cell phone, at last with some signal.

  "What'swrong?"Iask.

  SheshowsmeapicturethatMatthaspostedonFacebookafewhoursago.Init,Iseea young man with the forehead covered by black hair and bright green eyes that seem to be affectedafteryousmokeajoint.Butthatisn´twhathasupsetpoorAmy.Besideher,ayoung redheadwithasnubnosecoveredwithfreckles,smilesexaggeratedlycarameltohim.

  "Isshehiscousin?"Idissimulate.

  "It'sthebitchofEmily."

  "ThebitchofEmily"Irepeat."Isee...Aretheyfriends?"

  "Doyouthinkfromthispicturethattheyarejustfriends?"Sheasks,raisinghervoice.

  "Well,itcouldbeworse,theycould..."

  "OhmyGod!"

  "What'swrong?"Istartle.

  "Look!"Sheshouts.

  I see another photo. In it, the bitch of Emily gives an "innocent" kiss on the lips Matt, affectedbyjointsandalcohol.

  "What,what,what...Whatisthis?"

  "Ididn’twanttobecruel,but"

  "He'scheatedonme!"

  "That'swhatIwasgoingtotellyou..."Icomplain.

  We stop. I don´t know what I'm going to do if Amy starts crying. I panic just at thinking, thesekindsofsituationshavealwaysbeendifficultformetohandle.Whatwouldafatherdo?

  "Whatareyouthinkingtodo?"

  "TomeetAlessandro."

  She doesn´t cry, doesn´t seem affected. I'm surprised by her behavior. I've never really understoodwomen,butateenage"woman"isevenmorecomplex.Shelaughs.Idon´tknowif onherself,onMatt,onthesituationorsomethingelse.

  "Whatifhedoesn´tlikeyou?ImeanAlessandro"Isay,crossingmyfingersandprayingto aGodthatIdon´tbelievein,soshewouln’tbeangrywithmycomment.