Roman Crazy
Page 26
She laughed. “The portions aren’t that big. Besides, everything is slowed down here. You sit, you drink, you laugh and drink some more—and above all else, you enjoy life. One night, dinner here lasted four and a half hours.”
I gave her a searching look, and she added, “There was a lot of wine.”
“While that sounds incredibly relaxing, I’ve got a phone call with my lawyer in the morning. I need to be sharp.”
“I think you need something sharp. Pointed at his balls.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “I just can’t believe that the only contact I’ve had from him since I’ve been here has been about his shirts.”
“He’s probably still laying into the secretary.” When I winced, she apologized. “Too soon? Sorry.”
“No, you’re probably right. That’s not even what’s bothering me. Which seems insane, I know, but I think what I really hate about all of this is the lying. And if he was lying about this, who knows what else he was lying about. How many women? How many years has this been going on?”
She nodded, handing me another piece of bread.
I talked as I chewed. “And it’s like, here’s this guy, this guy you’ve known since you were nineteen, this guy you thought you knew better than anyone on the planet, and then poof. One day you find out he’s got a secret life.”
“Well, his penis had a secret life.” Daisy groaned, and I laughed in spite of myself. I dabbed my eyes with the napkin, wondering if I could pass off my tears as ones of laughter. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” Daisy said, reaching across the table and patting my hand, not at all fooled.
I gave a watery sigh, then dabbed my eyes a final time. “I don’t want to waste a beautiful Italian night or an incredible dinner with thoughts of him. Not now at least. After I talk to the lawyer, I’ll need that wine.”
“Want to know what is exciting to talk about on a beautiful Italian night over an incredible dinner?”
“What?”
“Your first day of work!” She smiled big and goofy. “We finally moved all the vases to the studio. Are you excited?”
“I am. I so, so am. Tomorrow, after the lawyer wine, we’re having celebratory vase wine.”
“Deal. Now tell me about that portrait you brought home.”
“Home?”
She shrugged. “It’s where the art is.”
I explained the line of novice artists at the market; how they were all similar save for the one. “I just couldn’t leave it to end up in the trash. When she said for me to take it, I just did. I don’t even really know why.”
Daisy examined me, the candlelight reflecting in her green eyes. “You have a new map now, and we’ll get your phone set up with an international plan. Your next order of business is an art shop.” She held up her hand when I started to interrupt. “No excuses, Avery. If I knew what you needed I’d buy it myself, but I know how particular you are.”
“I’m not that particular,” I protested, smothering a smile. “Besides, I was trying to tell you that I went shopping today. You should have seen me when I got home, covered in pastel chalk, but I digress.”
She beamed, holding up her water glass. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me, too. I have you to thank for the idea to come here.”
“To us,” we said, and clinked.
The server brought the first wave of food, along with a bottle of wine, compliments of the owner. Daisy was clearly a regular.
My eyes closed and I sighed dreamily when the mozzarella melted against my tongue; when the basil pesto hit my taste buds, I heard angels singing. “Jesu—Jesuit Christmas,” I choked, correcting myself when a woman at the next table raised her eyebrow in my direction. Right. Catholic town.
“Right? It’s impossible to have a bad meal here. And you walk so much, you don’t gain weight. It’s like Disney World for foodies.”
By the time dessert was ordered, it was nearly ten o’clock and I had to unbutton my pants.
“You’ve had American-made tiramisu, right?” I nodded. “Order it here. You’ll never look at it the same way again. Sinful doesn’t even cut it.”
I ordered for us when she got a text and smiled broadly. I’d been so focused on Daniel, me, and seeing Marcello, that I hadn’t asked Daisy about her life.
“Someone special?”
“Huh? Uh, no, this is work.” She was unconvincing.
The waiter returned with heaven on a plate. A shareable portion of tiramisu that he garnished with freshly shaved chocolate. “Doesn’t seem like work,” I countered, dipping my fingertip into the creamy topping of the tiramisu.
She tried to hide her secretive smile, and failed miserably at it. “Oh it is. All work. All the time with him.”
“Details, please.”
She laughed, tossing her phone back into her purse. “Later. Right now, I need this chocolate to help me forget about spreadsheets and budgets.”
I DIDN’T KNOW WHO WAS more excited, me or Daisy, when I strolled out of the bedroom ready for my first day at work. I knew she was excited, because she had a healthy breakfast and not-so-healthy cappuccino ready for me, and immediately started chirping. “I know you have to talk to the lawyer this morning so I’m sending a car when you’re ready. Hopefully tomorrow we can go in on the bus together, but today, you’re on your own.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told her as she sailed out the front door. “Thanks, Mom!”
I gave her a searching look, and she added, “There was a lot of wine.”
“While that sounds incredibly relaxing, I’ve got a phone call with my lawyer in the morning. I need to be sharp.”
“I think you need something sharp. Pointed at his balls.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “I just can’t believe that the only contact I’ve had from him since I’ve been here has been about his shirts.”
“He’s probably still laying into the secretary.” When I winced, she apologized. “Too soon? Sorry.”
“No, you’re probably right. That’s not even what’s bothering me. Which seems insane, I know, but I think what I really hate about all of this is the lying. And if he was lying about this, who knows what else he was lying about. How many women? How many years has this been going on?”
She nodded, handing me another piece of bread.
I talked as I chewed. “And it’s like, here’s this guy, this guy you’ve known since you were nineteen, this guy you thought you knew better than anyone on the planet, and then poof. One day you find out he’s got a secret life.”
“Well, his penis had a secret life.” Daisy groaned, and I laughed in spite of myself. I dabbed my eyes with the napkin, wondering if I could pass off my tears as ones of laughter. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” Daisy said, reaching across the table and patting my hand, not at all fooled.
I gave a watery sigh, then dabbed my eyes a final time. “I don’t want to waste a beautiful Italian night or an incredible dinner with thoughts of him. Not now at least. After I talk to the lawyer, I’ll need that wine.”
“Want to know what is exciting to talk about on a beautiful Italian night over an incredible dinner?”
“What?”
“Your first day of work!” She smiled big and goofy. “We finally moved all the vases to the studio. Are you excited?”
“I am. I so, so am. Tomorrow, after the lawyer wine, we’re having celebratory vase wine.”
“Deal. Now tell me about that portrait you brought home.”
“Home?”
She shrugged. “It’s where the art is.”
I explained the line of novice artists at the market; how they were all similar save for the one. “I just couldn’t leave it to end up in the trash. When she said for me to take it, I just did. I don’t even really know why.”
Daisy examined me, the candlelight reflecting in her green eyes. “You have a new map now, and we’ll get your phone set up with an international plan. Your next order of business is an art shop.” She held up her hand when I started to interrupt. “No excuses, Avery. If I knew what you needed I’d buy it myself, but I know how particular you are.”
“I’m not that particular,” I protested, smothering a smile. “Besides, I was trying to tell you that I went shopping today. You should have seen me when I got home, covered in pastel chalk, but I digress.”
She beamed, holding up her water glass. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me, too. I have you to thank for the idea to come here.”
“To us,” we said, and clinked.
The server brought the first wave of food, along with a bottle of wine, compliments of the owner. Daisy was clearly a regular.
My eyes closed and I sighed dreamily when the mozzarella melted against my tongue; when the basil pesto hit my taste buds, I heard angels singing. “Jesu—Jesuit Christmas,” I choked, correcting myself when a woman at the next table raised her eyebrow in my direction. Right. Catholic town.
“Right? It’s impossible to have a bad meal here. And you walk so much, you don’t gain weight. It’s like Disney World for foodies.”
By the time dessert was ordered, it was nearly ten o’clock and I had to unbutton my pants.
“You’ve had American-made tiramisu, right?” I nodded. “Order it here. You’ll never look at it the same way again. Sinful doesn’t even cut it.”
I ordered for us when she got a text and smiled broadly. I’d been so focused on Daniel, me, and seeing Marcello, that I hadn’t asked Daisy about her life.
“Someone special?”
“Huh? Uh, no, this is work.” She was unconvincing.
The waiter returned with heaven on a plate. A shareable portion of tiramisu that he garnished with freshly shaved chocolate. “Doesn’t seem like work,” I countered, dipping my fingertip into the creamy topping of the tiramisu.
She tried to hide her secretive smile, and failed miserably at it. “Oh it is. All work. All the time with him.”
“Details, please.”
She laughed, tossing her phone back into her purse. “Later. Right now, I need this chocolate to help me forget about spreadsheets and budgets.”
I DIDN’T KNOW WHO WAS more excited, me or Daisy, when I strolled out of the bedroom ready for my first day at work. I knew she was excited, because she had a healthy breakfast and not-so-healthy cappuccino ready for me, and immediately started chirping. “I know you have to talk to the lawyer this morning so I’m sending a car when you’re ready. Hopefully tomorrow we can go in on the bus together, but today, you’re on your own.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told her as she sailed out the front door. “Thanks, Mom!”
