Those Blue Tuscan Skies

by Marion Ueckermann

  So much for a perfect event. Although everyone was enjoying socializing together, Rafaele started to question his wisdom at the menu he’d chosen—although all were favorite dishes of Nonna’s, and at the end of the day, that’s what mattered most seeing as it was her birthday party.

  He gazed across the table as he had done every time a new course was served. Only he and Nonna had touched the wine. Everyone else stuck to still or sparkling water or fruit juices. Thankfully he’d only opened one bottle of red. He’d return the others to the wine cellar.

  As for the chosen entrées—Bistecca alla Fiorentina, Florentine steak cooked the only way this enormous T-bone could be…rare; Tagliatelle al tartufo, pasta covered in a truffle sauce; and Pappardelle alla lepre, very wide egg noodles in a strong sauce made from wild hare—perhaps he should’ve thought further than just Nonna. Rachel had only nibbled on one slice of crostini and avoided the meat. She ate a little of the sides—one or two roasted garlic potatoes and some of the spinach with Pecorino cheese. He really should’ve asked her if she had any dietary preferences. For all he knew, she could be a vegetarian.

  Sienna hadn’t fared much better than Rachel with her food, but he did know his sister wasn’t much of a meat eater. Alessa made up for them both. Despite her healthy appetite, his little sister always managed to stay slender.

  At least the men had enjoyed every course, as guys normally do. Especially Marco. Even though the Florentine steaks were recommended to be shared, he’d eaten an entire slab of meat on his own. And still had room for the pasta dishes. Must have a very active metabolism to eat so well and still manage to stay in shape.

  Rafaele had shared his steak with Jayne, although he’d probably eaten at least three-quarters of it. Afterward, Jayne had taken a small serving of each of the pastas—had to taste both, she’d said.

  Jayne smiled at him as she twirled the wide egg noodles around her fork. “Hmm, this is so good.” The fork disappeared into her mouth, coming out clean. She closed her eyes and savored the dish. A moment later, her eyes flew open wide, moisture pooling around those beautiful blue spheres. She fanned her open mouth with her hand. “Ooh, ooh, chili…”

  Chili? Oh no. The game they’d played as children… Maria must have remembered and decided to pull off the same prank on them tonight—one dish having a piece of seven-pot habanero hidden inside and nobody knowing which dish it was in. And—

  No. He had to get the water fast, and the jug was on the other side of the table.

  “Ric, the water, quick.” Rafaele snapped his fingers at his brother as if the action would spur him on.

  Ric shoved to his feet, grabbed the jug and rushed toward Jayne and Rafaele. By the twinkle in his brother’s eye, Rafaele had no doubt that Ric had remembered.

  He had to save Jayne. But how?

  Still fanning her mouth, Jayne held up her glass to Ric seeking more to drink. She’d already emptied her glass, not that water was what she should be consuming to put out the fire in her mouth. Ric moved past Jayne, however, and dunked the jug of water over Rafaele’s head.

  By the time Rafaele had wiped the water from his eyes, he heard Ric running down the passage toward the kitchen, shouting for a glass of milk. He soon returned with the antidote, carrying an unopened carton in his other hand for backup. He leaned in and handed Jayne the glass.

  “Here, drink this. It’ll help counteract the effects.”

  She downed the glass and held up the empty container for a refill. “What was that?”

  “Seven-pot habanero,” Rafaele said.

  Jayne stared at him, still breathing hard. “Seven-pot what?”

  Rafaele wished he could take the pain away for her. “A very hot chili. It’s called seven pot because each little pod can add fire to seven family-sized pots of stew.”

  “What? Why was it in there?” Jayne wiped her watering eyes with the tip of her linen napkin. The fabric came away blackened from her mascara.

  “An old family joke, which Maria must have remembered. Unless…” Rafaele glanced up at Ric, eyes narrowing.

  “Guilty as charged.” Ric winked at Rafaele then turned to Jayne. “But in my defense, that plate was meant to go to Rafaele. The waiters must have muddled them. I am so sorry, Jayne. I’d never do anything to hurt or embarrass a woman, never mind a guest.”

  Rafaele chose not to make a scene now. In fact, he probably should just let it go. If his thoughts hadn’t been so consumed with Jayne, he might’ve thought to pull the old prank on his brother himself.

  “The joke is not so much the chili in the food,” Rafaele explained further for Jayne, and Rachel, as Ric returned to his seat, “but—”

  “The water dunking that takes place after you call for water!” the seven cousins and siblings shouted in one voice, and then burst into fits of laughter.

  When their mirth finally subsided, Jayne stared at him doe-eyed. “So you calling for water moved the target from my head to yours?”

  He nodded.

  “You took a dunk for me?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Aw…” Jayne wrapped her arm around his and laid her head on his shoulder. “That is so sweet. My hero. Thank you.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I would never have emptied the jug on your head, Jayne.” Ric smiled. “I promise.”

  Loving the feeling of Jayne so close to him, but needing to change out of his wet suit, Rafaele reluctantly rose. “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I think I should change my clothes. We can do the gifts for Nonna when I return, and then dessert will be served.”

  Taking the opportunity to use the bathroom, Jayne rose. Rachel would certainly need to go as well and was probably too shy to ask. Then again, who could get a word in edgeways with this raucous family? Thankfully, she at least had Rafaele who had been attentive to her every need this evening.

  “Do you need the ladies?” she whispered into Rachel’s ear as she passed by.

  Rachel nodded and pushed to her feet.

  As they walked down the passage, Jayne asked, “So, how are you enjoying the evening so far?”

  “It’s been…pleasant. Rafaele seems very caring. And the others seem nice too.” Rachel chuckled. “They are a rather loud family though. I’m not used to such a crazy household. I’m an only child.”

  Jayne grinned. “So am I. Don’t worry, I’m finding all of this just as overwhelming. I only met them all minutes before you. Except for your grandmother…and that meeting didn’t go w—” She shouldn’t run Rachel’s grandmother down. The relationship was already strained. Jayne gestured to the bathroom door. “You go first.”

  “Thank you.” Rachel scurried inside and shut the door.

  Just as Jayne leaned back against the opposite wall to wait, she heard footsteps hurrying down the nearby staircase. Rafaele appeared, damp hair combed back, wearing blue, slim-fit jeans and a white, short-sleeved cotton shirt. He spotted her.

  “Everything okay?”

  She nodded.

  He strolled toward her. “How’s your mouth?”

  “Still burns a bit.”

  “Would it help if I kissed it better?” His lips curved into a lazy smile.

  Jayne swallowed. “I think that would help. A lot.”

  He’d barely obliged when the bathroom door opened.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Rachel said.

  Rafaele released Jayne’s lips, and Jayne began to giggle.

  “It’s okay, Rachel.” She eased past Rafaele and took Rachel’s place at the bathroom door. “I’ll see you both back in the dining room.”

  That chili was totally worth Rafaele’s remedy. Pity Rachel had opened the door so soon. She would’ve loved to savor more of those kisses. She would also have loved to find out exactly what Rafaele had meant when he told Rachel they were together. Or whether he’d said that merely for Piero’s benefit?

  Next time they were alone, she’d ask him.

  She’d also make sure her mouth got a little more of that TLC.


  Chapter Thirteen

  RAFAELE ROSE AS SOON AS Jayne took her seat at the table again. He tapped his fork against his wine glass, and the high ting caught everyone’s attention.

  “It’s time for Nonna to open her gifts from us. Then we’ll enjoy dessert. But first—” Rafaele turned toward the entertainment outside on the patio and called, “Maestro…”

  The band struck up the prearranged selection.

  Recognizing the tune, everyone joined in. “Tanti auguri a te. Tanti auguri a te. Tanti auguri cara Nonna. Tanti auguri a te.” Jayne and Rachel sang in English. “Happy birthday to you…”

  Claps, cheers, and whistles rose once the song was sung.

  Rafaele walked around the table. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Nonna. “My gift to you, Nonna, has been this party. I hope you have enjoyed it. It is good to see you smiling and laughing again.”

  His siblings and cousins clapped as Rafaele returned to his seat, adding their agreement to his statement about Nonna’s happiness.

  Seated beside Nonna, Ric leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss. Rafaele had earlier informed his brother of the order of the evening, so Ric had already retrieved his present from the table. He handed the gift bag to Nonna.

  “Grazie, Riccardo.” She pulled a box out of the bag. The label on the front announced the contents—a Royal Doulton porcelain figurine. The exquisite doll wore a long blue dress.

  Isabella held up the box and pointed to the name of the ornament—the same name as hers—and laughed. “Bella, bella.”

  “Good choice, Ric. I’m impressed,” Rafaele said.

  Alessa shot out of her chair. “I’m next.”

  She grabbed her little gift bag from the table and rushed over to Nonna, planting a kiss on her leathery cheek. Alessa set the bag down in front of her.

  Nonna shoved her hand inside and pulled out a small metal scooter—an ornamental model obtainable at all tourist shops and painted in the colors of Italy—Roma written on the front. She laughed. “Like yours, Alessandra?”

  “Not quite, Nonna. I have a Vespa, and mine’s only white, not red, green and white. You can put this on your dresser and think of me every day.”

  “I already think of you every day, mia bellissima nipotina.”

  Alessa widened the bag’s opening. “There’s more in there, Nonna.” For a moment, Rafaele thought his little sister would offer to snag what remained in the bag.

  With trembling hands, Nonna retrieved the small box herself. She opened it and pulled out the bottle of perfume. She sprayed a little into the air and sniffed the falling droplets. She nodded her head in approval. “Bellissima.”

  “Isn’t it just incredible, Nonna?” Alessa’s grin stretched across her face. “Like Italy in the spring all wrapped up in a bottle.”

  “Sì. Limoni, tiglio, jasmine…”

  Marco eased in behind Alessa, waiting his turn.

  “Scusa.” Alessa stepped aside, allowing Marco to get closer.

  Nonna gazed up at Marco and took his hands in hers. “Marco,” she whispered.

  “Like Rafaele, my gift to you is not a physical one,” Marco said. “Tomorrow morning I’m going to fire up that pizza oven and cook you and the family the biggest pizza this side of Texas for dinner, A Marco.”

  Nonna frowned. “A Marco? A Metro I know. Is that your secret recipe, Marco?”

  “Ha, Nonna, no. It’s your secret recipe. I got it from my mother. It has been a few years since I’ve made it, but I’ll do my best to create my Pizza A Metro A Marco.”

  Although surprised that a pizzeria executive hadn’t cooked a pizza in a while, Rafaele looked forward to sharing that meter-long delicacy with his family. It had been forever since the oven under the pergola at the pool was used. When Mammà was still alive, they’d spent every Sunday in the summers down there. Papà and Nonno would fire up the oven early in the morning because it would take the entire day to reach the proper temperature. Pizza was never a lunchtime meal option for their family. Instead, they’d enjoy pastas and salads. After lunch, Papà, Nonno, and Nonna would take riposo while Mammà swam with him and Ric. When the sun finally began to set, the pizzas would be assembled and baked.

  But then Mammà died and everything changed. Papà changed.

  He lost two parents that fateful day.

  Nonna’s babbling in Italian drew Rafaele’s attention. He’d daydreamed so long, he’d missed Marco sitting down and Sienna taking her turn with her gift.

  Nonna seemed to love what Sienna had given her. She cupped his sister’s face and kissed her cheeks before lifting the thick silver frame with what appeared to be Sienna’s graduation photo.

  Rafaele leaned forward. Yes, it was. Sienna had emailed him the photos back in October, promising to bring Nonna a framed portrait when she next visited. Their father’s death had been so sudden, graduation photos were probably the last thing on his sister’s mind as she hurried to catch the next flight home from Australia. But it was appropriate for her to give this gift now—Nonna had always been supportive of her studies, unlike Papà. He never wanted Sienna to leave Tuscany. He never wanted any of them to leave Villa Rossi—and yet, he’d managed to drive every one of them away.

  Sienna had barely sat down when Nick twisted in his chair. He pulled a CD case from his jacket pocket. Seated next to Nonna, he turned to her and handed over the small plastic case. “I made this for you, Nonna.”

  “What is it?” She took the gift from Nick.

  “It’s my original unpublished compositions—for you only. Nobody else has heard them.”

  She gasped and turned the CD case over, laughing. She flashed Rafaele a look. “You’ll need to help me so that I can listen to this.”

  “I will, Nonna,” Rafaele said.

  After Nick received his kisses from Nonna, all eyes turned to Piero.

  Their suave cousin set his camera down on the table then pushed his chair back and rose. He strolled over to the gift table and picked up the bag he’d set down earlier. He placed it in front of Nonna then leaned over to give her a huge hug. He kissed her on the neck, and she laughed, pushing him away.

  “Piero, va via. Mi fai il solletico.”

  Ignoring her protests, Piero kissed her neck again. “I know it tickles, Nonna. It’s supposed to.”

  “You are trying to distract me. I know you, Piero.” Nonna shoved her hand into the paper gift bag and pulled out—

  “A snow globe?” Nonna shook the sphere and tiny flakes drifted in the liquid. “Where is this?”

  Piero shrugged. “Some mountain… Somewhere…”

  Nonna turned the globe over. Her fingers yanked the sticker from the underside. She pasted it on Piero’s hand. “The airport gift shop?” She spun around to Nick. “I suppose I have you to thank, Nicoló, that your brother brought anything at all?”

  “Nonna, Nonna…” Piero dripped the charm. “I was so excited about seeing my lovely Nonna again that getting a gift simply slipped my mind.”

  She pinched his cheeks. “It’s okay. But don’t do it again, va bene?

  “I promise.”

  Nonna’s gaze circled the table. “Grazie, grazie, everyone. You have spoiled me too much.”

  “Um, I brought a gift too.” Rachel had her hand half raised in the air, trying to catch someone’s attention. Seated right beside her, Rafaele noticed.

  “Nonna, there are still two more gifts—Rachel’s and Jayne’s,” he said.

  Nonna drew in a sharp breath. “Ah. Okay.”

  Rachel walked to the opposite side of the table and handed her gift to Nonna.

  “Grazie.” Nonna’s smile seemed strained.

  Rachel sucked in a deep breath as Nonna’s hand disappeared inside the gift bag for a moment. Nonna fingered the silk scarf she pulled out before spreading it out on the table for all to see the artwork painted on the delicate fabric. From where Rafaele sat it seemed that Nonna turned her attention to the bottom corner of the scarf.

  “Is this yo
ur signature here?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Rachel’s answer was soft.

  Nonna oscillated her gaze between Rachel and her gift. “So you made this?”

  Rachel nodded.

  “Bella, bella.” Nonna wrapped the scarf around her neck, smoothing the fabric over the front of her dress. “Bella. Grazie.”

  “You’re welcome.” Rachel pivoted and hurried back to her seat.

  Rafaele stood and retrieved Jayne’s gift. He leaned across the table and slid it in front of Nonna. “This is from Jayne.”

  Gazing up at him, Jayne mouthed a thank you.

  Nonna tipped her head before removing the ribbon that had been tied around the gift. She carefully unfastened the tape holding the bright blue paper in place. Soon the covering fell away and the Tuscan scene emerged.

  Once more, Nonna’s focus zoomed in on the scrawl in the corner of the artwork. Her eyebrows raised as her fingers traced the artist’s signature. “Davide Rainero… Very nice, Jayne Austin. Very nice. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Isabella. I hope it’s worthy of your art collection.” Jayne clasped Rafaele’s hand and she squeezed.

  “Sì. Very much. He is a good artist. Well-known in Toscana.”

  “That’s a wonderful piece of art, Jayne,” Rachel said. “Good choice.”

  Jayne leaned forward. “You know art?” she asked Rachel, seated on Rafaele’s other side.

  Rachel nodded. “I’m a secondary school art teacher in Cardiff.”

  Noticing Maria in the doorway, Rafaele asked, “Is the dessert ready to be served?”

  “Sì, signore Rafaele.” Maria didn’t move. Instead, she beckoned him to the door. Had something gone wrong with one of the desserts? That’s all he needed now.

  “What is it,” he whispered to the housekeeper as he stepped outside the dining room.

  She clasped his arm and started toward the front door. “Consegna. Come.”

  A delivery? This time of the night?

  Against the wall beside the double front doors stood a fairly large, flat, square gift about the size of a large computer monitor. The item was wrapped in brown paper. Rafaele squatted in front of the package. “Who is this from? Who delivered it here?”