A Semester Abroad (33 page)

I found myself in a conversation about bare feet with some of Duccio’s female relatives. As usual, they were fascinated by the way we walked around our houses with no shoes.

“It’s just more comfortable,” I said. And the women nodded, slightly disturbed. I had this feeling that they were curious about all the
americane
that came through their country, but just didn’t ever have the opportunity to talk to them. Somehow the fact that we were there as someone’s
ragazza
made us easier to communicate with.

There was more cheese and meat and wine. And then just as everyone’s conversations were becoming more elastic
espresso
was served. But shortly after that when it was really dark, the grappa came out.

“Oh, demon liquid,” I said in English.

“
Ti piace
,” asked Duccio’s sister, Lucia.

“You know I like to drink,” I said, finding myself happy to be kidding around with this Sienese woman. “But this stuff, it burns.”

“This one is a good one,” Gaetano said.

“Try it,” Bruna said across the table. “It will help you digest.”

I looked across at Michelle, who shrugged again.

“I ate the meat,” she said in fast English through gritted teeth. It was like we had our own dialect.

The whole table was watching me. I could already smell it. I held the glass up in a mock toast to the crowd. There were laughs and a couple of
dai
’s. I giggled before I could get the glass to my lips. I hated being on display. I took a sip. I swallowed. It did burn, but it wasn’t as bad as when we did shots of it. It was meant to be sipped. The truth was when you didn’t gulp it down it helped your stomach settle everything out.

“
Brava
,” said Bruna and a few of Duccio’s male relatives clapped. Gaetano put his arm around the back of my chair. I stood and did a little unsteady bow. And thankfully the table went back to the conversations and cigarettes they were already involved in.

And then the dinner was over. All of Duccio’s relatives started to leave, kissing us goodbye and leaving us to sit with Duccio’s parents and younger teenaged brother under the pergola, finishing one last bottle of wine.

“Did you girls eat enough?” Bruna asked us. “
Basta
?”

“Yes, it was delicious,” Michelle said in perfectly accented Italian.

“It was,” I agreed. “I feel full and perfect.”

Bruna smiled broadly and did one of those funny Italian hand motions, pressing her pointer finger and thumb together in a circle, to indicate that all was right with the world. And it certainly seemed to me like it was.

Gaetano was smiling at me.

“
Che c’e
?” I asked.

“Full and perfect, eh. You are perfect,” he said. “
Sei favolosa
.”

“
Favolosa
?” That was a new one for me. I searched for the translation. “Fabulous? Fantastic?”

He shrugged. “
Piu o meno
.”

“
Sei favolosa
,” he said again later when we were in Duccio’s family room watching the dubbed version of
Pulp Fiction
.

He mouthed it to me when Duccio’s parents were saying good night to us and having a conversation with Duccio that seemed like a formality about where we would all sleep.

“
Sei favolosa
,” he whispered into my skin later when we were alone in the room where Michelle and I were assigned to sleep. Again and again as if the words could penetrate my body and he could make me believe it.

Later, mouth dry, I crept out through the darkened house to the kitchen for some water. I was only in Gaetano’s T-shirt, hoping I didn’t run into Duccio’s mom. I was more concerned that she would see my bare feet than realize I had been up to no good.

I was startled to find Michelle alone at the kitchen island, standing in her tank top and nylon
americana
running pants staring at the fridge.

“Hi,” I said. She gave a little gasp, surprised. “Sorry. I was just getting some water.”

She nodded and didn’t say anything. I began to worry.

“Were you going for a midnight jog?”

“No.” Her voice was quiet. I noticed her hands were clasped together.

I went to the sink to get my water. My heart began to beat faster. I turned on the faucet. I weighed my options about what to say. I could do nothing. I could let this water cup fill up and return to bed.

The water began to overflow onto my fingers. I let it for a minute. Then I shut off the water, turned around and took a deep breath.

“Can I–” I paused not sure where to go next. Lately, I noticed this thing happening where my sentences seemed to be running off a cliff. I couldn’t always think of the right word in English if it was one I hadn’t used in a while. But this wasn’t that. This was fear. But I was in it now.

“Can I help?” I asked.

Michelle didn’t turn to me.

“I don’t think they liked me,” her voice was quiet and faraway.

“Of course they did,” I said. I stepped around so I was next to her. “They all did.”

“Did you see the way his aunt looked at me?” Gianna had been more reserved than Bruna.

“You know she was eyeing Gaetano, too,” I said. “I heard her tell Duccio’s sister that she never travels south of Rome. It was a total dig. She’s just a snotty northerner who hates southern Italians. She probably hates anyone who isn’t in her
contrada
.”

I was hoping we could identify a common enemy and go to bed.

“Do you think his mom liked me?”

“Yes,” I said, emphatically. “I do. She called you
joia
. Did you hear that? You bring her joy? I didn’t get that.”

Michelle smiled at me weakly. “That’s because you have a simple Italian name. Gabriella.”

I smiled at her exaggeration of the syllables in my name.

“But, Michelle,
joia
, I think she really liked you. Like a lot.”

Michelle nodded and bit her lip, hands still clasped. I took a sip of water and followed her gaze to the fridge. She sighed.

“
Che c’è
,” I asked

“I can’t stop thinking about that cake.” The leftover
torta della nonna
was in the fridge.

“It was good cake.”

“I thought I had this under control,” she said. Her eyes filled up.

“You do. You will.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt.

She shook her head. I had to figure something out.

“What if we just, I don’t know, what if we each just took just one bite? Just one. Then stop.
Basta.
We could really savor it. And then we both go to bed.”

She didn’t answer for a long time. It felt as if we were both holding our breath.

Then she nodded. I sighed this time with relief. I opened a few drawers in the kitchen before I found two spoons. I got the cake and unwrapped it on the counter beside the refrigerator and not in front of Michelle on the kitchen island. I spooned us each two generous bites. I wrapped the cake back up and put it away.

I fed Michelle first and then myself. She wasn’t going to unclasp her hands. Maybe that was for the best. The cake was still good, colder now, but you could taste the vanilla bean in it, the light lemon zest, the cream like mother’s milk. In truth, I could have stood there and eaten the whole rest of the cake, but I didn’t need to. This was enough.

“Okay?” I asked. “
Basta?
”

She nodded.

I unclasped her hands and held one.

“Water?” I held up my cup. She took it with her other shaky hand and drank. I tugged her back toward the bedrooms. Earlier the boys had snuck into the room we were supposed to share and put the situation right. She laughed as Duccio pulled her to his room, leaving Gaetano with me. I thought everything was okay, but it wasn’t. I hoped it was now, but I didn’t know.

“Are you okay?” I asked when we got to the corridor where we needed to go our separate ways. She squeezed my hand and then she hugged me for a long while. I thought she was going to thank me, but she didn’t and I was glad. Friends don’t need to thank each other.

She was smiling when she pulled back. “We smell like
uomini
.”

“We do,” I said. “
Buona notte
.”

“
Buona notte
,” she said. I watched her walk to her room.

I crawled back beside a sleeping Gaetano and lay on my side. I couldn’t fall right to sleep. Tonight was already a memory, a happy one at that. Even finding Michelle in the kitchen hadn’t made it bad. I had other happy memories, but those had been tinged. I wondered if there would ever be a time when I could return to a happy memory and enjoy it for what it was. I couldn’t imagine there would ever be a time when I could look back and take just one bite without going out of control. I wondered if I would ever forgive and move on. I wondered if I could ever truly let go.

But I wasn’t going to try just then. I wanted to be there in that moment. Someone sleeping beside me, someone in the world, believed I was
favolosa
. I wasn’t exactly sure of the translation, but I liked the sound of it. I wanted to try and let myself believe it, too.

Olivia was done with school. She waited outside my door in her tank top, her arms turned brown from days studying in the park, trying to avoid her depressing apartment with Suzie. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Gaetano holding my hand.

Gaetano kissed Olivia hello and said that he would see us for dinner. He left me to explain the new developments between us. Olivia was full of
I told you so’s
and
lo sapevo’s.
And I laughed at every one and let her have her moment.

We ate toasted eggplant panini outside a café near Santa Caterina’s church. We faced a view of the zebra-striped Duomo, the salmon Torre, the whole beautiful orange-and-pink skyline. We were holding on to this in our minds. We will never forget this, we vowed, and we never have.

Now that her was semester done and Suzie was back at home, Olivia was going to the Tuscan island Elba for a few days with people from her program. Then, she would come back for the choosing of the
contrade
and we would start our big trip. I considered going with her, but I still had too much to do.
I’ll have plenty of time to travel
, I told myself, and Olivia was coming back in a few days. Besides, it was too soon to leave Gaetano.

The day that all of our papers were due Janine insisted that we have a final dinner together as roommates. She dressed up for the occasion as usual, wearing a cute pink sundress that she bought at the
mercato
. She blew out her hair and put on a lot of make-up. She looked like herself or like the image she wanted to leave us with. She turned herself on that night, and she was kind to everyone, even to Lisa. She was all about image, only an image

I didn’t want to be a part of any of it anymore. I served my time, and I didn’t want to know Janine or Lisa anymore. I wanted to move away from them, to have my time with Gaetano and not have to do this. I didn’t like who I was with them. I no longer wanted to be that way. But Michelle was being a good sport about it, so I stuck it out. It is only one night, I told myself.

After dinner, Janine brought out a good bottle of Vin Santo and
cantucci
. Michelle caught me rolling my eyes and shot me a disapproving look. I nodded, resigned to the fact that I had to stay. I wouldn’t have to suffer much more of this. Michelle was moving out tomorrow. Olivia and Kaitlin were coming the day after for the choosing of the
contrade
. This was the ceremony where it would be decided what neighborhood competed in the Palio race in July.

“I would like to make a toast,” Janine said, holding her glass up in her newly manicured hand. “To us and our semester abroad.”

“Here, here,” Lisa said as we clinked glasses.

“
Chin-chin
,” I said.

“Cheers,” Michelle said.

“We couldn’t have lived together better,” Janine said quite seriously. I swallowed the Vin Santo, praying it went down the right pipe, and I felt Michelle kick me under the table. When I looked at Michelle, she winked at me. Michelle popped a
cantucci
in her mouth. Her healthy appetite made me smile.

It has taken me years, decades really, to realize that maybe Janine was right. We couldn’t have lived together better. Maybe that was the best it could have been.

It was a hot day when Duccio, Gaetano and I helped Michelle move into Lucy’s apartment. I said goodbye to Lucy, who went to the airport having never made any headway with her butcher crush.

On a run back to Via Stalloreggi, we stopped in Crai to buy some drinks. On line in the store was Kaitlin. Gaetano saw her first and picked her up, so she dropped her groceries as he kissed her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I forgot when I was supposed to come, so I left Paris, since I couldn’t get in touch with you.”

“That’s so like you,” I said laughing and kissing her. Back at Via Stalloreggi, Lisa and Janine made annoyed faces at Kaitlin when she arrived. Last night’s harmony was over.

“And Olivia is coming to stay here tomorrow?” Janine asked with a smirk.