Tales From a Broad (24 page)

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I
was just reflecting on who I was becoming on this short trip.”

Tess raised an eyebrow and waited for me to
elaborate.

“Well, I left New York feeling like a total
loser, and now here I am, trying new things, chasing the illusion
of Simon, of all people, in places I never dreamed I would ever
be,” I said. “Maybe I was wrong about myself and who I really was
when I was with Cooper. I really don’t think I should have—”

“Should have what?” Tess sat up straighter,
and the top of her head grazed the ceiling.

Oh, I don’t know. I really don’t think I
should have just walked away from Simon. I really don’t think I
should have invited Cooper to come. I really don’t think I should
have opened my big fat mouth to Tess ... something stopped me from
confiding in my niece completely.

“I don’t think I should have ... bared my
accidental Brazilian bikini line tonight.” I forced a chuckle and
climbed into the bottom bed.

Tess’s head appeared next to me as she hung
upside down like a bat. “You know, you should write an article on
that—trends for pubic hair all around the globe.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No thanks. I’d rather
not research that one. My evening may have inspired another article
though. Gestures in different cultures.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking, would you ever
consider writing a book?”

“Me? Write a book?”

“Why not? You love to write and are so good
at it.”

“Tess, I appreciate the vote of confidence,
but I’m a magazine writer. I don’t have what it takes to write a
book.”

“You always sell yourself short,” Tess said,
shaking her head. “Just like you did when you were with Cooper.”
Her honey blonde hair looked like a curtain as it fell across her
face.

“I think I’ll just stick to magazine articles
for now,” I replied, ignoring her comment about Cooper. “Like the
one I just mentioned. This way, at least I’ll have someone to
invoice for this ticket, to cover the cost of my alleged road
rage,” I scoffed. “I seriously should’ve told that fatty to go eat
another schnitzel.”

I placed my hands on the side of my head and
massaged my temples. “Well, here’s to new experiences. Strange
kisses, peepshows... Who knows what Italy will bring.”

Tess’s eyes shone with excitement, and I
heard her giggle as she tucked herself back into the bed above
me.

I lay back and tapped the bottom of Tess’s
bed with my foot. “Hey, what’s so funny up there?”

“Oh, nothing. You just make me laugh. Good
night, Aunt Lu.”

“Good night,” I sang in a suspicious
tone.

I was happy to see her in a better mood and
wished I could say the same for myself. I didn’t know what Italy
would bring, but I sure knew who it would bring, and I was starting
to feel anxious about seeing Cooper again.

Deciding that I would channel my anxiety into
my next article for Janice, I rolled over to reach into my bag for
my laptop.

Sex
Six Tips for the Single Girl in
Europe

By Lucy Banks

One letter can make all the difference in
the world or around the world. If someone in France warns you
something is high vat, it may trim your travel budget, but it
certainly won’t make you thin. Six more things you need to
know:

1. Burberry isn’t always the best choice in
London. No matter how badly you want to break out your beloved
plaid, don’t do it.

2. Berets aren’t cool in France unless you
want to look like an American.

3. In France, high heel ankle boots with
short shorts aren’t just for hookers. If your boots were made for
walking, pack ‘em. Just don’t try this at home. Style
non-transferrable.

4. In If it’s a simple cup of coffee that
you want, café Americano is what you need to order. Europeans take
coffee to a very dark place.

5. In Not all gestures are created equal.
Steer clear of signing unless you do your homework first. Gesturing
“okay” isn’t always. In Germany, it’s an insult, and in Greece it
means homosexual. And in certain parts of Europe, “thumbs up” gets
a serious “thumbs down”.

6. In The same goes for words. Don’t try to
get fancy.
Kussen
means kiss in Dutch and vagina in Danish.
If a guy tells you he wants your
kussen
, tell him to kiss
your ass.

Chapter
Twelve

Pensione living is a nice compromise between
hostel chills and hotel frills.

Facebook Status June 12 at 1:30pm

Tess and I arrived in Florence at about one
o’clock the next afternoon. From the moment we pulled into the
Santa Maria Novella Station, a wave of excitement washed over me.
Both sets of my grandparents had been born in Sicily, four hundred
miles from where I stood. I was actually in the country of my
family’s origin! I belonged here.

We walked off the train, and I had goose
bumps as I heard the beautiful sounds of Italian filling the air.
The station was alive, as people greeted loved ones with cheerful
salutations, tight embraces, and double kisses. The body language
that surrounded us was almost louder than the kind that could be
heard.

I wanted to shout, “I’m one of you!” but I
couldn’t. I didn’t speak the language. It had always been on my
list of things to do one day, and never before had I wanted to
learn as badly as I did at that moment.

Tess and I walked past a pack of fellow
Americans we easily identified as such because of their familiar
accents. They were dressed in baggy shorts, faded t-shirts, and,
like us, were laden down with heavy backpacks. As we maneuvered our
way around them, I gave them a polite smile and wondered if we
looked as out of place as they did amongst the well-dressed
Italians.

I was just looking down at my sleeveless
yellow and white gingham button-down when I heard a loud voice
bellow in my ear.

“Ciao, signora.
What are you doing,
checking yourself out?”

I spun around and took a step back, stunned
to see my handsome nephew standing in front of me.

“Landon,” I exclaimed. I grabbed his cheeks
and gave him a kiss on the side of his lips.

Tess, who had been walking one step ahead of
me, stopped dead in her tracks and whipped her head around.
“Landon!” she yelled. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a
conference this morning.”

Landon pulled Tess and I into in a tight
embrace. “I do, but how often do I get the chance to welcome my
only sister and favorite aunt to a foreign city?
Benvenuti
.”

Landon took my backpack and slung it
effortlessly over his shoulder. He was just under six feet, and
with his muscular build, my bag suddenly didn’t look so big.

“Bless you,” I smiled, rolling my tired
shoulder. “When did my little nephew grow into such a gallant
gentleman?” I reached up and pinched one of his cheeks that had
turned pink.

“He may be chivalrous, but he is far from
grown up. Trust me.” Tess laughed.

“Aren’t you sweet? I see your preschool
buddies have rubbed off on you, sis.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Tess replied.

Landon reached down and put a playful
headlock on his sister, gently grinding his knuckles into her
forehead.

After Tess wriggled free, she removed her
backpack and thrust it under Landon’s chin. “Just for that, you can
carry mine too, wise ass.”

I clasped my hands together and stretched my
arms overhead. My load felt light without the heavy pack, but I
also felt light in my heart. Landon was right. Being together in a
foreign city was pretty extraordinary indeed.

I smiled to myself as Tess and Landon
continued their sibling banter. It had been awhile since I’d seen
them side by side, and I’d forgotten just how much they looked
alike. Both were tall, thin, and had honey blond hair and green
eyes. There was no denying they were siblings, and quite often,
they’d even been mistaken for twins. The only difference was that
Landon had inherited his mother’s darker complexion.

“So, how’s the trip going? Aunt Lu, do you
have flyer’s remorse, travelling with this one?” Landon pointed his
thumb at Tess.

“Are you kidding? I don’t regret a mile. Do
you?” I creased my eyebrows and waited for Tess to answer.

She slung an arm over my shoulder. “Not a
one,” she reassured. “This whole trip has been amazing. And quite
... interesting.” She gave me a knowing look.

“Oh yeah,” I said with wide eyes. Tess and I
looked at each other and giggled.

“Sounds like you have a few stories to tell
over drinks.” Landon paused to look at his watch. “And speaking of
drinks, I better get back to work.”

“How is that, speaking of drinks?” Tess said
with a face. “Are you at an AA meeting or an architect’s
conference?”

“The latter, unfortunately. Or should I say
fortunately?” Landon wore a bemused expression and shook his head.
“Regardless, the longer I sit in a windowless conference room, the
more I want to drink. Learning about low energy architecture is
seriously making
me
feel lethargic. Hopefully they’ll still
be serving lunch when I get back.”

My stomach growled at the mere mention of
lunch. I looked around the station.

“Tess, would you actually mind if we grabbed
something to eat here?” I said.

“What?” Landon looked at me incredulously.
“You did not come to
Firenze,”
he said with an affected
accent, “to eat in a train station. It’s too early for you to check
in, so I’m going to take your bags to the pensione, but first, I
will drop you off at the Central Market. I may have only been here
a few days, but I’ve picked up a few tips from the locals.”

“Lead the way,” I ordered. Tess and I linked
arms and followed Landon out of the station.

Ten minutes later, a taxi dropped us off in
front of a rather plain looking building. Feeling skeptical, we
said our goodbyes to Landon and went inside to search for a taste
of Florence.

“Um, Aunt Lu?” Tess said when we stepped
inside.

I paused for a moment to swallow. “Sorry. I
have an excessively watering mouth.”

I knew we wouldn’t have to search hard to
find something to eat. The room was covered from wall to wall with
booth after booth of all sorts of Italian delicacies.

I drew in an exaggerated breath and inhaled
the fresh aroma that came from a large cheese stall. The pungent
smell of Parmesan wafted into my nose and had me suddenly craving a
plate of homemade pasta.

“Um, my mouth is also watering, but I think
it’s a warning that I am about to throw up.” Tess pulled on my arm
and pointed her chin to the other side of the room.

I sucked in my breath and stood up
straighter. “Ohhh.” Without moving my head, I glanced at the
neighboring stalls and saw all sorts of unrecognizable intestines
hanging from the ceiling. “Don’t think about it,” I commanded.

I turned my attention back to the vistas of
cheeses and steered her past the stalls of slaughtered animals.
When we got to the end of the first floor, I made my way over to
the various vinegars, olive oils, and produce. Chilled eggplant,
porcini mushrooms, and buckets of dried fruits created a sweet
scent in the air. The colors of the dried peaches, apples, bananas,
and plums were visual eye candy.

After walking through the two-floor
supermarket, Tess and I bought paninis with mozzarella cheese,
which didn’t even make it to the door. The cheese was fresh and
warm and practically slid down our throats. A drizzle of olive oil
on top had soaked into the thin bread and the combination left
behind a pleasant artichoke aftertaste.

Florence was off to a delicious start.

We wandered around and caught glimpses of the
city’s most famous cathedral, Il Duomo, off in the not so far
distance. We followed the distinctive Renaissance dome until we
came face to face with the colorful marble façade of the Gothic
cathedral. Stained glass windows depicted the saints, while bronzed
doors lined with scenes from the life of the Madonna led to the
vast interior.

Once inside, we paused to light a candle. As
I bent my head in prayer, I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at my
watch.

Time flies when you’re having fun, and my
date with Cooper was getting closer. My throat tightened, and I
inhaled slowly to steady my breathing.

While falling in love with the city, I had
almost managed to forget about Cooper. Yet all of a sudden, I felt
as if I were about to be executed in the piazza. I reminded myself
it was just dinner with my ex. I didn’t have to count down the
hours to a beheading, and I certainly didn’t need to waste valuable
prayer time.

I clasped my hands together and squeezed my
eyes shut, hoping to focus a little more on my spirituality, and a
little less on my insanity. This was a new one for me, the first
monumental decision I had made without initially bouncing it off my
sister. How could I be sure I was doing the right thing? I stuffed
another euro into the donation box and prayed someone would send me
a sign—or at least help me blow off my family for dinner. I looked
up at the stunning ceiling fresco and pleaded with the Lord.

I still wasn’t sure how I was going to sneak
away from Tess. I didn’t want to tell her about dinner with Cooper,
because I knew she would tell Morgan. I needed my secret guest to
remain just that, for now.

I fretted all the way to the Ponte Vecchio
and felt like I was just going through the motions as we snapped
pictures of the medieval bridge across the Arno River. The bridge
sat on top of three stone arches, and we took our time walking
through the raised pedestrian passageway, which happened to be
lined with little jewelry and goldsmith shops.