The Last Promise (20 page)

Alessio clapped wildly. “Did you see it! Did you see it!”

Ross smiled at his excitement and ran his hand through Alessio’s hair. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah!”

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Eliana said.

“That’s right, you have horses,” Ross answered.

“I was talking about the knights.”

Ross laughed. “You women and your knights.”

She smiled. Then, without word, her hand moved gently into his, as if she were unaware of its action. He looked down at her hand, then closed his hand around hers. A minute later, when she took back her hand to clap for the next knight, his hand felt remarkably empty and cold, as if suddenly deprived of circulation. The sense of her hand still lingered, as though it had left an imprint in his.

 

One by one the knights charged the Saracen. The crowd grew in noise and excitement, the sound rising, hanging in the air like the dust from the horses’ hooves. Each run seemed faster and more furious than the previous. When all the knights had run, Porta Crucifera was proclaimed the winner and the bleachers emptied into the square to celebrate the winning knights.

Eliana and Ross took Alessio by the hands, and the three of them wound through the crowd back to the car. They drove back toward Rendola, exited the freeway near Incisa, and drove up through San Donato in Collina, to Eliana’s picnic site. As the sun fell toward the horizon, they were alone at the top of a wooded hill overlooking the Valdarno Valley.

There were several tables, and they chose one that was made from a massive stone grinding wheel once used to crush olives for oil. There were wooden benches around it. Ross spread a blanket out over the stone table, and Eliana sat down and began making sandwiches while Ross and Alessio went off together into the nearby forest to gather firewood. They returned with a small bundle of branches that they stacked near a crude fire pit. The sun was setting as Ross sat down next to Eliana at the table.

“How did you find this place?”

“Anna brought me here a few years ago. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “It reminds me of a place I used to camp with my family as a kid.”

Eliana smiled at the thought. It was the first time he had spoken of his childhood, and it pleased her. “With your parents?”

“My parents and stepparents.”

“How were your stepparents?” She glanced over at him. “You don’t mind me asking?”

“No. They were okay.” He paused. “That sounds ungrateful. It wasn’t the best situation. It was hard for them. It’s hard enough raising your own family, let alone having someone else’s on top of that.”

“They already had children?”

“Four.”

“Oh my. Were you treated differently than the others?”

“Yes,” he said hesitantly. “It’s not that they meant to make us feel like an imposition; they just didn’t hide it very well. We felt like guests who had overstayed our welcome. To make matters worse my brother was pretty difficult. He was always rebelling against them. He ran away every few months. One time, when he was sixteen, he just never came back. He ended up living with friends.”

“Do you keep in touch with them now?”

“I did until—” He stopped abruptly.

She glanced up. “Until what?”

“Nothing.” He stepped toward her, his mind fishing for another conversation. “What kind of sandwiches are you making?”

Eliana looked at him. She wondered if subconsciously he wanted to tell her more. Her instinct told her to wait for him—that he would tell her everything when he was ready. Or maybe it was a matter of when she was ready.

She smiled. “A peanut butter sandwich for Alessio. For us there is salami and my not-so-famous PLT.”

“PLT?”

She held a sandwich aloft. “Pancetta, lettuce and tomato. It’s like a BLT only saltier.”

Ross grinned. “I’ll start the fire. Do you need anything else from the car?”

“There’s a grape pie still in the basket.”

“Grape pie?”

“You haven’t lived until you’ve had my grape pie. Actually it’s an American recipe, but living in Chianti, on a vineyard, I couldn’t help but try it.”

“Is it good?”

“Oh, yeah. Trust me.”

Ross brought the grape pie from the car then called for Alessio, who was kicking his soccer ball around the tables.

“Hey, Alessio, want to help me make a fire?”

“Can I?” He glanced toward his mother, who had indoctrinated him with the evils of matches and fires since he was old enough to know what they were.

“You can help,” she said. “But be careful.”

“I will.”

Ross showed Alessio how to start a fire by building a tepee with small twigs and filling it with wood chips.

He looked at Alessio seriously. “Remember, don’t try this at home,” he said. He glanced at Eliana for approval. She smiled at him.

“Okay, sir.”

After finishing supper, they sat around the fire eating grape pie, talking and then laughing as Alessio reenacted the jousting tournament. They stayed at the picnic site until the night was cool and pitch-black around them, the dying fire glowing orange and white, with occasional sparks rising in the air like fireflies. The sound of frogs and insects grew loud.

Alessio had trouble keeping his eyes open and leaned sleepily against Eliana. Still Eliana procrastinated. It had been a good day. She didn’t want it to end. For the first time in years she felt like part of a family—the way she always thought it should feel. Finally Ross kicked out the fire and carried Alessio to the car, while Eliana piled everything else into the picnic basket. Alessio stretched out across the backseat.

He was asleep by the time they arrived at the villa. Ross carried him upstairs to his bed while Eliana pulled down the sheets. She tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and then Ross and Eliana descended the stairs together. As Ross walked to the front door, Eliana said, “Not so fast. You still owe me.”

“For?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten our bet. My knight won.”

“Oh, right. The one you chose because it was pretty. No, Christmassy.” He reached for his wallet. “Ten thousand lire.”

“Christmassy beats
crudele
. Remember that. And let’s make that dollars, not lire.”

“That will only take me about six months to earn,” he said. Then he added, “Thanks for coming with me. It’s been a good day.”

“It has been a good day. Thank you for inviting us. We’re surrounded by this amazing culture and we never go out and do anything anymore.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining. “I’m glad you came to Rendola, Ross.”

Ross just looked into her face. He smiled, and for a moment neither of them knew what to say, though this time it wasn’t awkward. Then Ross asked, “Another session tomorrow?”

“I can’t tomorrow. Anna gets back from the sea.”

“Anna, I’d almost forgotten about her.”

“Then Wednesday we begin the grape harvest. Would you like to join Alessio and me? We only go out for a couple hours.”

“I’d love to. What time does it start?”

“Eight o’clock a.m.”

He made a mental note. “Eight o’clock Wednesday. I’ll be there.”

“Good. Good night, Ross.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. This time he put his arms around her and held her against him, her body warm and soft against his. The gesture surprised Eliana, but she didn’t move away.

“Good night, Eliana.”

Her voice was lower, almost a whisper, “Good night, Ross.”

Back in his apartment, he wrote in his journal then lay in bed and looked at the ceiling, recounting the day. All the noise and excitement and pageantry seemed to pale against Eliana. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so good. Then he suddenly could. It was the last time he had fallen in love.

—Italian Proverb

 

 

 

 

 

A
nna returned to Rendola with all the subtlety of a summer thunderstorm. She held her horn down for fifty meters as her red, vintage Renault climbed the drive to the villa. Eliana heard her and called for Alessio.

“Come on, Alessio, Aunt Anna’s back!”

Alessio screamed and raced to the front door. “Slow down, sport!” They arrived outside the villa just as Anna climbed out of her car.

“Ciao, ragazzi!”
she shouted. “I’m back.”

“Welcome home!” Eliana shouted. They hugged and kissed cheeks. And Anna crouched and kissed Alessio. “You grew!”

“Really?” Alessio asked, touching the top of his head.

“
Sì.
Now come see what Aunt Anna has brought you.” Anna took a large plastic sack from the backseat of the car and handed it to Alessio.

“For me?”

“Just for you.”

He lifted out a plastic dump truck.

“Wow.
Grazie.
”

The women each pulled a bag from the car and started back to the villa.

“So how was everything?” Eliana asked.

“Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. The sea has never been bluer, the weather never kinder.”

Eliana smiled at Anna’s dramatics. “So Claudia wasn’t unbearable after all.”

“Claudia who? I met the most beautiful man.”

“A man?”

“Sì, sì,”
she said, twisting her wrist to imply there was more to be said when young ears weren’t around.

They set Anna’s bags down just inside her house. “Come on over, Anna. We haven’t eaten dinner yet; we were waiting for you.”

“Oh good, I’m hungry as a wolf.”

The table was already set for three. Eliana reheated their meal, and they sat down to a dish of gnocchi with ragù sauce and toasted crostini spread with a pâté made from white beans. They talked for nearly two hours before Eliana sent Alessio upstairs to bed.

“I want to stay and listen some more,” he said.

“No,” said Anna. “We have woman talk. It will burn the ears of small boys. Now go up. We’ll play tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said grudgingly.

“Good night, son. Give Aunt Anna and me a kiss.”

“Yes, come, my Alessio.” She kissed him.

“Now, don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“I won’t.”

When he had disappeared at the top of the stairs, Eliana asked, “So, does Romeo have a name?”

“Andrea. Andrea Deluca.” She spoke the name as if she were unwrapping a present, paying special attention to roll the R. “We danced, we drank wine, we strolled along the beach under the moon—it was so romantic.”

Eliana laughed at her excitement. “I’m so pleased for you.”

“You should be. I forgot how wonderfully intoxicating it is to be in love.”

Though she said nothing, Eliana understood. “Where was Claudia during all this?”

“At the house sulking. Claudia won’t be speaking to me for a century, but that’s just one of the many benefits.”

“So where did you meet?”

“Claudia, bless the boor, and I had a little tiff, so I went out alone for a walk. He followed me six blocks before he asked if I would have coffee with him.”

Eliana smiled. “Where does he live?”

“In Genoa. He was staying at a beach house with his cousin.”

“Will you see him again soon?”

“Yes. He’s coming for the
Festa della vendemmia
.”

“Oh, good.”

Eliana smiled at this as she stacked their plates on top of each other, then gathered up the silverware from the table. “So what’s he like?”

“
Carino,
short and plump. A little Botticelli. And he’s a magician in the kitchen. He can cook like my grandmother.” Then she said, “Did I tell you he has the most marvelous lips I’ve ever tasted?”

“No, you didn’t.”

Eliana took the plates into the kitchen. Anna collected the glasses and followed her in.

“So what happened while I was gone?”

“Alessio had a bad attack. We had to rush him to emergency.”

“
Mamma mia.
I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Anything else?”

“Nothing. Maurizio was only here for two days. Same old life.”

Anna looked vexed. “I don’t believe you. Something happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve changed.”

“In what way?”

“You seem breezy.”

“I’m just glad you’re back.”

“Did you meet someone?” Anna scrutinized Eliana’s face.

“Anna.”

“It’s the American, no?”

“Anna.”

“That is not a denial. I knew it. What is he like?” When Eliana hesitated, Anna exclaimed, “I was right. Out with it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, he’s nice. He’s very sweet.”