Our Italian Summer

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Our Italian Summer Page 32

by Jennifer Probst


  “Did you pray for his soul?”

  He winced. “Yeah, but first I gave him a black eye. Then I went to confession.”

  We laughed and he squeezed my hand in a gesture that gave me goose bumps. How had I ever found him unattractive? His deep blue eyes and his smile and even his red hair seemed charming now. The freckles were just a part of who he was, and I liked to trail my finger across them like tracing a route on a map. And when he kissed me? His lips were so warm and firm, and I just wanted to kiss him for hours.

  “I think you better stop looking at me like that.”

  I jerked back in surprise, blushing. “Sorry.”

  “No, Allegra, I like it. I’m just letting you know I’m about to kiss you right in Chef Bernini’s restaurant and he’ll probably yell at me for not concentrating on the food.”

  Buzzing with female anticipation, I gave him a teasing look. “Then I’ll give you a rain check for later.”

  We finished up our meal and spent some time exchanging contact information with the chef. I explained my desire to go to cooking school, and he wrote down his email and told me he’d help with a recommendation if I needed it. My head spun with excitement and we walked out hand in hand.

  “I can’t believe he said that. Enzo was so nice to do this for us.”

  “Yeah, he’s perfect for your mom. It’s too bad he lives in Italy. Do you think they’ll try and continue dating?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure. Hope so. I’m not sure how she’s going to handle it.” I thought of Ian’s parents and what they might think. After all, their son planned to be a priest. “What about your parents? Do they think it’s weird you stayed to come hang out with me?”

  “They loved the idea. Honestly, they loved you. Said you were mature, sweet, and they were happy we got along so well.”

  “Are they hoping you’ll fall madly in love with me and change your mind about being a priest?” I asked.

  Holy crap.

  I gasped when the words popped out of my mouth, and tried desperately to backtrack. My cheeks burned. “I’m sorry, Ian, I swear I didn’t mean that. I was just teasing.”

  He gave a frown. “Why are you sorry? That’s exactly what they’re hoping for.” He stopped and looked down at me. “Not to freak you out or anything, but I’m already crazy about you, Allegra. I don’t have much more before I fall hard.”

  I gulped, stunned at his honesty. This man didn’t believe in games or keeping himself safe. He just put out his emotions and damn the consequences. What would it be like to feel so brave and . . . free?

  He noticed my confusion and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m getting way too serious. Let’s have some fun. I’d like to check out the basilica—I read there’s a gorgeous mosaic of the ascension of Christ. How about you?”

  I pushed away my spinning thoughts and concentrated on the here and now. Plenty of time for serious stuff later. “The Museo del Risorgimento. It’s got tons of art I’d love to study.”

  He grinned. “Done. Let’s go so we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  The rest of the fleeting afternoon we toured. He taught me more about the church and I taught him art history. We wandered the botanical gardens and got dizzy with the scent of fresh flowers wafting in the air. When we finally arrived back at the villa, I was exhausted, still full, and deliriously happy.

  “How was it?” Mom asked, giving us both a short hug. “Did you make some wonderful stuff?”

  “Chef Bernini is a master,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough, Enzo, for letting us do this. Besides teaching me so much, he said he’d give me a recommendation if I need it for college!”

  Mom looked a bit worried, but she held her tongue. We’d come a long way. “Then you must have impressed him,” she said firmly.

  Enzo nodded. “He does not give compliments or recs easy. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Ian, did you get to see some of Lucca?”

  “Allegra took me around. We checked out the museum, the cathedral, and the gardens.” He shot me a look filled with warm affection. “It was the best day.”

  Nonni beamed. “Good, that is how it should be. I think you’ve done enough cooking today, Allegra. Why don’t you both freshen up and relax on the terrace? I made more lemonade.”

  Enzo motioned upstairs. “You’re bunking with me, Ian.”

  “Sounds good. I appreciate you letting me stay, Ms. Ferrari. My parents really loved spending time with you.”

  “Thanks, Ian. Just call me Frannie. I felt the same way about them, and I think you saved Allegra from mother overkill.”

  Ian laughed, and we went our separate ways to change.

  We were all in a lighthearted mood as we gathered around the table and picked at finger foods Nonni had created. Plump figs and ripened olives lay in small bowls with fragrant oils and herbs to dip. Chunks of crusty bread and sharp Parmesan cheese completed the antipasto.

  We stayed up late, listening to Enzo’s stories about crazy tourists and the things they’d made him do. Ian spoke of Ireland and sketched out the beauty of green rolling hills, small-town life, and how the pubs were as intimate as living rooms, where everyone gathered. When they asked about Manhattan, Mom and I shared a look and started laughing.

  “Do you want to tell them the story?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

  “Sure. Mom and I had gone to see a Broadway play, and—”

  “Oh, which one?” Ian asked.

  “Phantom of the Opera. It was so romantic,” I said.

  “Hmm, I’d have preferred Hamilton or The Lion King—I heard they’re good.”

  I pressed my lips together. “I’ll take that under consideration if we ever go to a play,” I teased.

  He grinned. “Sorry, I got caught up. Go ahead.”

  “So, we’re coming out of the play and it’s pouring buckets—I mean, we were under the awning and we had pools of water up to our ankles. No one could get a cab, there was barely space to stand, and we were blocks away from the train station.”

  Mom jumped in, not able to help herself. “We see this rickshaw—which is basically a bicycle with a small covered seat. He waves us over, and we figured we’d give it a try because we would have missed our train.”

  I picked up the story. “We get into this tiny seat and squish together, and he starts pedaling like a bat out of hell through these wet city streets. Oh my God, I thought we were dead. He went through yellow lights and skidded in puddles, and the plastic covering began to leak, and we were drenched anyway by the time we got to the train station.”

  Mom doubled over in laughter at the memory. “We were screaming for him not to kill us and trying to huddle under our jackets as we got drenched. Finally, he skids up to Grand Central and we’re both shaking and—”

  “He asks Mom for one hundred and fifty dollars!” I finished.

  Enzo and Ian gasped. “Are you kidding?” Ian asked. “That’s insane.”

  “I know! So Mom says absolutely not, and he starts screaming in the rain that he’ll call the police because by taking the ride we agreed to the terms.”

  “And he sticks this wet, torn piece of paper into my hand and starts pointing at the fee schedule and how many miles he pedaled. It was a nightmare.”

  “You didn’t pay him?” Enzo asked.

  Mom sighed in defeat. “No, I did. I gave him a hundred-dollar bill because I just wanted to get dry, and he was starting to scare me, and I told him take it or leave it. He took it.”

  Ian groaned. “You got played.”

  “Big-time, but that happens all the time in the city. Here I was thinking I was a native and too experienced to get played, yet I lost a hundred bucks on the worst ride of my life.”

  Nonni shook her head. “You two are some pair. Tell them what you did the next time you took your daughter to the city.”

  Mom win
ced. “I hired a limo. I couldn’t deal with the drive or the train.”

  Everyone cracked up. A warm glow shot through me. I didn’t often get the opportunity to sit around the table and talk like I’d done the past month. It felt like we were a makeshift family, and I realized how important food was to bond people. I wished we’d be able to continue the tradition when I returned home.

  Nonni finished her coffee and stood up. “Well, I’m off to bed. These old bones have had enough.”

  We said good night. Ian and I shared a glance. “Mom, Ian and I are going for a walk. I want to show him the lake.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Bring a blanket in case you’re cold or want to sit. It’s really beautiful at night.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Use bug spray, please. Enzo and I are going to head in soon, so we probably won’t be up. Text me if you need anything.”

  I nodded and went inside to get a thick blanket and two bottles of water. Then we headed down the pathway that wound through the vineyards and toward the lake, the flashlight beam lighting the way.

  We spread out the blanket on the hill under a twisted old oak tree. Stars studded the sky like diamonds on black velvet. The crickets and night creatures screeched out a song, giving us our own special concert. Ian sat down, spread his knees, and pulled me into his embrace. He wrapped his arms tight around me, and I felt sheltered and safe, his breath against my ear, my head pressed to his chest.

  I never wanted to leave.

  “I have this need to learn everything about you,” he murmured, touching his lips to my shoulder.

  “Well, my favorite color is yellow.”

  He chuckled. “A good start. I guess I still can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend. Or someone interested. Are the guys at your school truly stupid?”

  “I’ve never connected romantically with anyone at my school,” I said truthfully. “I tried. One of the popular kids tried to hook me up with the school track star, but I found him egotistical.”

  “Definitely not a good match.”

  “Definitely not. And I’ve been focused on my schoolwork, tennis, and track. I’m a big reader and art history buff, so technically I’m a nerd. I like my own company. Sad, huh?”

  “Nope, sounds like me. I never connected with anyone at college either. I met a lot of nice girls, but no one I wanted to give up my free time for.”

  I thought of David and guilt pinged me. After I stopped responding to his and Freda’s texts, we’d gone to radio silence. “Right before we left on our trip, I started hanging out with this guy and his friends. That’s where I got busted for pot.”

  I held my breath, awaiting his judgment, but he didn’t move away, and his voice sounded steady. “Makes sense. You were mad at your mom and probably looking for something. Did you like smoking weed?”

  “I wanted to, but it wasn’t my thing.” I thought over the encounter with Freda, David, and Connor. “It was the connection I loved. They seemed really tight, and I’d never really felt like I could trust any of my friends with my secrets. I liked how I felt when I was smoking or drinking and part of the crew.”

  He squeezed my shoulders in reassurance. “Allegra, you’re only eighteen and still in high school. You’re supposed to experiment and figure out who you are. I get it. Now it makes sense. Your mom freaked and decided to drag you off for an exotic trip to keep you away from them?”

  “Bingo. I was pissed. I wanted to travel over the summer in their RV, stopping at different clubs. But now, thinking about it, I don’t think it would’ve been a cool idea. I don’t really know them that well, and I had no interest in being high or drunk on a regular basis. The pics they’ve been sending me kind of confirmed it.”

  “You’re the smartest woman I’ve met. You have this sense of self that comes right through. There’s no need for you to fit in with anyone, Allegra, especially with people who want to change you. Plus, I happen to find nerds extremely sexy.”

  I laughed and cuddled closer. “Then I guess we’re on the same page. By the way, what’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  “Like your eyes.”

  He stiffened, and suddenly the easy affection between us turned. A spark ignited, and I caught my breath as a raw want shook through me. Slowly, I turned my head and met his gaze.

  “Allegra.”

  My name came out hoarse from his lips in a question I already knew the answer to. I didn’t consciously plan it, but there was nothing more I wanted than to belong to Ian tonight. To have him be my first. My heart exploded in my chest and I reached up. “I want you,” I whispered against his lips. “Is that okay?”

  He shuddered and muttered something under his breath. “Yeah, it’s okay. More than okay. I just need you to know I wasn’t expecting this tonight, and I didn’t come here to—to be with you like this.”

  “Have you ever done it before?”

  He shook his head. “No. I know I needed it to be special. With someone I loved, who I’d never forget. I wanted it to be beautiful.”

  Emotion choked my throat. “That’s what I want. I’m a virgin too.”

  He clenched his jaw; his blue eyes filled with agony and a hunger that thrilled me. “But I can’t give you what you need,” he said miserably. “I don’t want to hurt you when I leave.”

  I smiled and pulled his head down, kissing him with a confidence that came from his obvious feelings for me. “Ian, you’d hurt me if you walked away right now without being mine.”

  His eyes half closed, and then he pulled me in tight, his mouth taking mine in a deep kiss. He lay back on the blanket, and I spilled over his chest, my hands exploring his hard body. We made love under the Tuscan night sky, and when I stopped him as I remembered we didn’t have a condom, he sheepishly pulled one from his pocket, his guilty expression making me laugh. He surged between my thighs, and it hurt only for a moment. I concentrated on his face close to mine, the joy and love I found in his gaze, the tenderness of his fingers as he stroked me and owned my body with a grace and humbleness that shook me to the core. Later, we lay together, limbs entangled, his hands in my hair, staring up at the stars.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you too,” I said back.

  And I knew in that moment, I’d remember tonight forever.

  * * *

  * * *

  On the day he left, I wondered if I’d survive the pain.

  It was so much worse than physical. No, this type of agony throbbed from the inside out, affecting my entire body. My stomach clenched and I kept wondering what I could do to stop the inevitable from happening.

  But I couldn’t. I had to go home, and Ian was returning to Ireland.

  Ian was going into the priesthood.

  Since the night we had made love, it was as if we were in a dreamworld. We spent the day talking nonstop, sharing our dreams and fears and secrets. We walked for hours, hand in hand, and spent the evening with Mom, Nonni, and Enzo around the dinner table. Nonni showed us how to play card games, and we did silly things like charades or Heads Up! from our phones. It was as if the outside world couldn’t touch us and we were wrapped in our own special bubble of happy.

  Now it’d be broken.

  He said goodbye to everyone, and I caught Mom’s pained look. We hadn’t discussed how serious I felt about Ian, but it was obvious she knew. I caught her watching us with a mixture of happiness and worry, as if she knew well what I’d have to go through when he left.

  “Can you text me when you land?” I asked. “Just so I know you’re okay.”

  “It’ll probably be hard not to text you every hour,” he said, his smile not reaching his eyes this morning. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I feel like you’re a big part of my life.”

  I loved the way he didn’t hold back. Even now, he opened his arms and I stepped into
his embrace, clinging tight, not afraid to show my emotion in case he thought I was silly. I savored the fresh scent of him, and the strength of his arms, and the gentleness as he held me. “Ian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is it wrong for me to wish you didn’t want to be a priest? That we could have a long-distance relationship and I could come to Ireland after I graduate and give this a real shot?”

  His hands cupped my cheeks and I blinked furiously, hating the tears that stung my eyes when I swore I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t make him feel guilty or beg for something he’d already decided he couldn’t give me. I didn’t want his last impression to be of a needy girl with tears on her cheeks, begging him to stay.

  “No. It’s just honest. If you didn’t, I may have questioned this whole thing between us. How in a few weeks I could fall so hard for you. If you didn’t ask, I would have constantly wondered if it’d been a dream or something I just wanted bad enough to imagine.”

  “I love you.” It was the second time I’d whispered the words. The first had been after we had sex and he held me in his arms, and I knew I’d never feel like this again. “That’s real.”

  “Yes, it is. I love you too. You’re a gift, Allegra. You’ve changed me and you don’t even know it. Without you, I’d wonder for the rest of my life what loving someone was like. How can I counsel about love when I never experienced it? Now I understand what it’s like to give my body and heart to another. I just didn’t realize it hurt so damn much.”

  I barked out a laugh, pressing my face to his shirt, trying to get myself together. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Let you leave.”

  “Me either. All I know is you’re already a part of me. I owe you everything. Remember that full moon we saw together in Florence?”

  I nodded, too sad to speak.

  “When you see a full moon, know that I’ll be looking at it and thinking of you. Of what we shared. It’ll be our moon, always.”

  “I like that,” I whispered.

  He kissed me, then slowly stepped back. “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay.”

 

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