Our Italian Summer Page 13

  Allegra’s face lost its lightness and grew cold. “You said an hour. It’s been three, so we figured you weren’t coming anyway.”

  I thought of my crippling panic attack and held my tongue. “Sorry, I ran into some trouble and had to fix it. How was lunch?”

  “Really good. We had pizzas, and they have this incredible soft drink like cola, but it’s a touch bitter and has this cherry taste that’s so good. I forgot what it was called . . .” Allegra trailed off.

  “Chinotto,” Enzo said. “A treat for the summer months and refreshing, right?”

  “Yes, I loved it. And then we walked over here and the funniest thing happened—Nonni, do you want to tell the story?”

  Sweat gleamed on my mother’s brow and her T-shirt clung to her flushed skin. “Mom, do you need water? I brought an extra bottle.” Guilt flicked through me. I should have been watching her more closely and not given the job to Allegra. At Mom’s age, she had to be careful of the heat and physical exertion.

  She waved a hand in the air. “I’m fine. More than fine, I guess.” The words made Allegra burst into giggles. “We were getting some gelato and standing in line, and this man kept looking over at us. Of course, I knew he was gaga over Allegra even though he was too old for her.”

  “He was sexy,” Allegra added with a mischievous wink. “Right, Nonni?”

  “Oh, shush, he was average. But I was getting a bit concerned when he began to follow us down the street, and every time I looked back, he stared at us. He wasn’t even trying to hide. So, I lost my temper.”

  Allegra jumped in. “Nonni suddenly turns around and says, ‘What are you staring at? Don’t you know that’s rude?’ and he starts apologizing and says he was struck by beauty and he didn’t know what to do so he decided to follow us, and Nonni starts telling him he shouldn’t be trailing after young girls because it’s wrong, and he said, ‘But, signora, it is you I’m interested in!’ And then Nonni got all red and started stuttering—”

  “I did not stutter! I was just surprised. My goodness, he was much younger than me!”

  “Well, you guys were adorable, and then he asked for Nonni’s number and said he would love to take her to dinner!”

  My eyes widened and I began laughing with them. “Mom, you’re getting more play than either of us,” I teased. “I think it’s those hot shoes.”

  Her sensible, thick-soled nude loafers had been a target of insults from me and Allegra, as we’d tried to cajole my mother into wearing regular padded sandals. “Very funny,” my mother said. “Don’t come crying to me when you all have blisters or slip and fall.”

  “Did you say yes to dinner?” Enzo asked, his brow arched.

  “Oh, goodness no. I told him I was on a tour and would be leaving Rome in a few days.”

  Allegra sighed. “I told her to go. He seemed very nice.”

  My mother looked horrified. “I don’t even know him! Besides, I’m here to spend time with my family—not gallivant with strange men.”

  “I think it’s awesome,” my daughter said with twinkling eyes. “I hope I’m just like you when I’m older.”

  I knew the comment was innocent, but it still stung. I’d always been proud to show my daughter what a strong woman could do alone. But it seemed she respected her grandmother’s choices more.

  “Better to be like your mom. She would have said yes to an adventure.”

  Allegra rolled her eyes and a moment of awkward silence fell upon us. It was obvious my daughter disagreed with her theory but didn’t want to say it aloud. Enzo glanced back and forth between us with a curious look, and I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m sorry I missed lunch and the gelato. Maybe we can walk around and explore. Shop a bit.”

  “Oh, I’d love to do some shopping. It would be nice to get a new scarf,” Mom said.

  I decided a good bribe was in order to gain my daughter’s forgiveness. “Allegra, I thought it’d be nice to pick up a piece of jewelry. Something that makes you remember our trip,” I suggested. “Maybe a bracelet or necklace?”

  Allegra shrugged. “I don’t need anything.”

  Oh yeah, she was punishing me. I grabbed at my patience and tried to see her point. I’d have to make it up to her. “I’m sure we’ll find something you like.”

  “I’ll point out a few good shops and then I shall leave you ladies to your shopping,” Enzo said.

  We descended the stairs and I enjoyed the shifting view of the square as I passed each level. I’d almost reached the bottom when my heel began to slide along the slippery pavement, and I floundered to reach the railing in time to keep my balance.

  I didn’t.

  The awful moment happened in a rush. Suddenly, my entire foot caught air, and I fell back. My butt crashed to the ground, I knocked the back of my head, and yet unbelievably that wasn’t the end of it. I kept sliding, bumping down a few more steps in a wild, jerky ride, to spill into a collapsed heap at the first landing.

  Ah shit.

  My body ached from the fall, but my pride stung more. Cheeks burning red, I heard the concerned shouts and caught the pointed gestures toward me right before I tried to scramble to my knees, but I was off-balance and I fell back again. “I’m okay!” I shouted hoarsely to the crowd of onlookers, desperate to get to my feet.

  Before I could try again, Enzo reached down and scooped me up in his arms like an old-fashioned lover coming to my rescue.

  I was going to die of embarrassment.

  Mom and Allegra gathered around me, frantically asking how badly I was hurt, but all I could see was the line of iPhones held up in front of me that had documented every second of my fall. “I’m not hurt at all!” I tried to twist out of his hold so I could convince everyone there was nothing to film here, but Enzo marched with determination through the crowd, cradling me against his chest like I was a bird with a broken wing.

  This was so bad. Except the way he held me. For a few stunning seconds, I felt completely protected and safe. The warmth of his shirt, the strength of his lean arms, the delicious scent in my nostrils, all of the sensations swarmed around me until I wished I could shut my eyes and relish the experience.

  He reached an empty café table and sat me gently down on the chair, kneeling at my feet. “Fran, where does it hurt?” he asked calmly. “May I feel your head?”

  I nodded. People still peered from the edges of the crowd, probably trying to see if I needed an ambulance. Or maybe they just wanted to get a better pic for their Instagram story. Enzo’s fingers were firm but gentle as he probed my head, exploring the small, tender lump on the back.

  “Oh my God, do you think she has a concussion?” my mother asked, grabbing at my hands like she needed to convince herself I was still alive. “Should we get her to a hospital?”

  Enzo remained calm, slowly moving from my head down to my bare legs. “I can definitely take her to the doctor. Fran, can I check your ankle?”

  I nodded again, liking that he asked before running his hands over me. He repeated the same actions for both calves and ankles. Shivers ran up and down my spine at the touch of his fingers on my bare skin. “Can you move your toes?”

  I wriggled them and they obeyed. Allegra looked distressed, so I forced myself to smile at her. “It’s okay, honey. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “How’s your back?” he asked.

  I moved from side to side tentatively, but other than basic soreness, there were no sharp flashes of pain. “Fine. It’s just some scrapes and bruises.”

  “We should go to the doctor and make sure,” my mother said.

  I shook my head. “No. I’m not wasting the rest of the day in a doctor’s office for a silly fall. I swear, Mom, I’m okay. I’d tell you if I needed to get checked out. Here, let me try walking and make sure.”

  I stood up, hobbled a bit, but soon was able to walk at a regular pace. “See? I’
m fine. I had a good enough cushion,” I said, patting my rear. I noticed Enzo’s gaze paused on my ass before quickly jerking back up. Was that a flush on his cheekbones or my imagination? Was it wrong to hope for the former?

  Mom still looked doubtful, but I refused to baby myself over a few bumps and bruises. “If I start feeling strange, I’ll tell you right away. Now, can we go do some shopping? I want to get away from this crowd, who’s still staring at me.”

  “Mom, you freaked us all out,” Allegra said. “You pretty much bounced all the way down the Spanish Steps.”

  “At least we’ll always remember the landmark,” I quipped.

  Enzo shook his head, but a grin tugged at his lips. “If there is any problem, call me and I’ll come get you. I will check on you before dinner tonight.”

  “Grazie,” I said. His gaze probed mine for a few moments, and then he nodded and turned his head. “Enjoy your shopping, ladies.”

  I watched him walk away and disappear into the square. Mom was still frowning. “I know what our first stop should be,” she said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “New shoes for you. That’s why you fell. You need a pair like mine.” She stuck out her foot with the god-awful thick sole and ugly leather, and instead of getting mad at her usual “I told you so,” I began to laugh. Allegra looked surprised, but then she began to laugh too, and Mom joined in, and we stood by the Spanish Steps, bent over in hysterics, and I realized I hadn’t felt this good in a long time. The fall was worth it if Allegra had forgotten all about being mad at me.

  “Fine. You win.” I linked my arm through my mom’s, and we headed to the shops, a pleasant warmth washing through my veins at the physical contact. I’d forgotten how strong her grip was, and the light scent of the lavender soap she still loved, and the scratchy sound of her laugh that erupted from deep in her chest. This time, I noticed the fragility of her arm squeezed through mine and the slowness of her steps, and I swore to do better, because no matter the history between us, there was a love that beat like thread woven in fabric that was part of my very soul. I needed to figure out where the deep well of resentment toward her began, and try to heal the wounds.

  But not today. Today was for shopping and fun before dinner.

  We had plenty of time during the trip for raw honesty.

  Later.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Allegra

  I couldn’t believe I was eating in a real Roman palace.

  I knew the tour had cool perks, but this was completely lit. After we arrived by bus, a full staff served champagne and let us explore the gardens. Nonni let me have a sip, which tasted like bubbly sparkles in my mouth and was not as harsh as soda. When they called us in, we stepped into the main drawing room, decorated in rich red and gleaming gold. Expensive-looking oil paintings hung on the walls, and plush red carpet cushioned my feet. Tall-backed red chairs were set up around like mini thrones. I felt the rush of royalty and hushed secrets in the air.

  But the big moment was the ballroom.

  I caught my breath as I stepped onto marble floors and blinked at the massive, glittering chandelier dripping with crystals. For a moment, I felt like Cinderella arriving at the ball, and a girlish twinge of excitement propelled me. I might not be the princess sort, but it was definitely cool to pretend for a bit. A full-size orchestra played soft music on an elevated stage, and tables with crisp linens and sparkly china were scattered around. Crushed burgundy velvet curtains hid the large windows, but there was one toward the back that opened up onto a stone balcony. I caught the gardens in the distance.

  The place was this mix of really old with new, and everything had a touch of class and history. I’d never really been to any formal dances or dinners before, other than when Mom won an award for successful businesswoman of the year, and my mom’s second cousin’s wedding, but I’d been only seven, so that didn’t count.

  I wanted to sit with Ian and his family, but Mom had already picked out a table, so I ended up with Cherry and Laura, Dana and Steve, and a Japanese family with a young boy I hadn’t met yet. I pegged him for about ten years old and wondered if he was already bored with the tour. There was a ton of history and adult stuff in Italy. It wasn’t as if he could hit Disney World or a water park, and when I was his age, I was obsessed with eating only pasta or chicken nuggets, as Mom loved to remind me.

  I introduced myself and sat next to Nonni, avoiding my mom again. We’d had a good afternoon and she’d bought me a delicate bracelet with tiny gold balls that I loved. I was still pissed, but her fall had scared me, so I’d decided to be nice. She’d seemed different for those few hours—totally dialed in and not once checking her phone. But when we got back to the hotel, she got that distracted look in her eyes again and said she had to work before dinner, and we’d ended up being super late and almost missing the bus. So embarrassing. Then the entire ride she was texting and ignoring us, so it was like she reverted back.

  I studied how the bracelet caught the light and watched Mom excuse herself from the table to hurry into the hallway, phone clutched in her hand. Irritation hit me, but I tried to ignore it. If she wanted to ruin dinner in a castle by worrying about work, that was her issue. She’d warned me already about being on my phone during social time, but now I didn’t care. If I wanted to call or text David twenty-four seven, she had no right to tell me no.

  At least Nonni was having fun. She was swaying to the music—which was all old-fashioned Sinatra and Martin—and chatting with Dana and Steve while we were served our first dish of pasta.

  The waiter placed the bowl, which was filled to the brim, in front of me. “This is too much,” I said, blinking at the huge portion.

  “No too much,” he said with a wink. “Mangia.”

  I shook my head, but he’d moved on. He was older, probably in his sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a handsome, chiseled face. Dressed in a clean white suit, he looked less like a server and more like the owner, but everything was so elegant here I shouldn’t be surprised at the staff outfits.

  “I’ve never seen so much food in my life,” the woman to my right said.

  I turned and smiled. “Me either. My grandmother taught me to make homemade pasta, but there’s something different about this.”

  “I heard it was the water,” she said. “Each region tastes a bit different, from the pasta to the oils to the wine.”

  “Yes, makes sense. Oh, I’m Allegra. I’m here with my mom and grandmother.”

  “We’ve been meaning to introduce ourselves. I’m Hana, this is Dan”—she motioned toward her husband—“and this is our son, Kai.”

  Hana had beautiful black hair and fair skin. She was petite and dressed in a black cocktail dress with sparkly heels. Her husband was much taller, with broad shoulders and big hands, like a football player. I waved at the boy, who smiled back. “Hi, Kai. How do you like Italy so far?”

  “I like it,” he said, nodding eagerly. “We’ve been reading books at home, but it looks so much bigger here. I thought churches were small.”

  I laughed. I loved that he wasn’t shy. His hair was sticking up on the side from a cowlick. He wore blue-framed glasses, a stiff white button-down shirt, and black dress pants. He looked like a mini version of his dad. “Me too. Wait till tomorrow when we see the Colosseum. I can’t wait to hear more about it.”

  His dark eyes widened. “Lions ate people there,” he confided. “And real-life gladiators fought.”

  “I know. I bet when you get home and tell your friends, they’ll be impressed.”

  “Mom said I can buy souvenirs for them, so I hope they have gladiators tomorrow.”

  Hana beamed and ruffled his hair. “I’m sure they will. Have you graduated high school, Allegra?”

  “No, I have one year left. But my grandmother has been wanting to see Italy for a while, and I’ll probably be working next summer, so we d
ecided to do it now.”

  “That’s lovely. Kai got all As this year and won first place in the science fair, so we told him he could pick our family vacation. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t pick Disney World.”

  Kai shot her a look filled with half frustration, half humor. “Mom, we’ve gone there before. I wanted something different. Dad’s always telling me to think big and don’t be afraid to have a great adventure. Right?”

  Hana shot her husband a long-suffering glance and Dan laughed. “Sorry, but he’s right,” Dan said.

  “What grade are you in?” I asked.

  “Fifth,” he answered. “And my teacher said if I write about my trip this summer, I’ll get a free homework pass and extra credit next year!”

  “Good for you. Why’d you pick Italy?” I asked Kai curiously.

  He began to tick off items in his list. “The Colosseum, Pompeii, the gondolas in Venice, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But mostly it was the pizza. Pizza is my favorite and Mom said I could have it every day if I wanted to.”

  I laughed. He was smart and different from what I’d expected a ten-year-old boy to be like. Dan put his hands up in the air. “That one’s on you,” he said to Hana.

  We ate our pasta and chatted about the tour. I learned they lived in Manhattan near Central Park. Dan was an architect and Hana wrote women’s novels. She named a few and I’d actually heard of one, which had been displayed in the Barnes & Noble windows last summer. She said she was taking notes for an upcoming novel about a family traveling through Italy, so I ended up asking her a bunch of questions about writing, which had always fascinated me.

  We finished our salads, and Mom returned. I noted she wore a bright smile but her eyes looked stressed, like she was trying to deal with a problem back at the office. She murmured an apology and introduced herself to Hana, Dan, and Kai.

  “You missed the first two courses,” I said, trying not to make my tone accusatory.

  “The time difference is killing me. I needed to be patched into this conference meeting.”