Chapter 6 Matt
SIX
MATT
Jake grabs the brass handle on the large oak and glass door and pulls it open, gesturing for me to go inside the restaurant first. The delicious scents of fresh bread and red sauce wrap around us like a delicious, warm hug and I stop in my tracks, inhaling deeply.
“Oh my god. It smells like heaven in here.”
“Wait until you taste the food.” We slow our pace and peer into the strategically placed bakery case of delicious-looking cakes and pastries, and at the old-time deli case full of Italian cheeses and meats before continuing on to the host stand.
We wait only a minute or two before a short, gray-haired Italian woman appears from the dining room.
When she spots us, her smile is welcoming.
“Hello, Jake! I’m so happy to see you!” Her Italian accent and the restaurant’s authentic decor make me feel like I’m actually in Italy.
Not that I’ve ever been, but that doesn’t stop my imagination.
She walks around the host stand and hugs Jake like he’s family.
She only comes up to his shoulders, so the hug is a bit awkward, but he wraps his arms around her, hugging her in return, and it’s really sweet.
“We haven’t seen you in weeks. But you picked a good time to come back.
We have your favorite dessert tonight.” She pats his cheek.
“And who is your friend?” Her gaze is curious but her grin is mischievous.
“Nonna, this is my friend Matt Ward.” He turns to me, grinning. “Matt, this is Mrs. Serra. She and her husband own Nonno’s.”
She pats Jake’s hand and scoots around him, opening her arms to me. Grinning, I lean down and hug her. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Serra.”
“You call me Nonna. Everyone does.” She slips her arm through Jake’s and leads us toward the dining room. “Now, Michael will be taking care of you tonight, and he’ll cover all the specials. And be sure to save room for dessert.”
We let her guide us through most of the restaurant, which gives me a chance to get a good look at the space.
The floors are hardwood, the walls are red brick, and the ceiling is white plaster with thick dark beams. Each table is square and covered with a white tablecloth topped with butcher paper.
There’s a tea light candle, a small glass filled with crayons, and a bud vase with a fresh flower in the center, and every table has four wooden bistro chairs.
She steers us to a quiet table in the corner and winks at Jake.
“So you can talk. Michael will get your drinks.”
Jake glances around the bustling dining room. “You’re a bit busier than usual for a weeknight.”
She shrugs. “It’s Valentine’s Day this Saturday. It’s always busier the week before.”
A tall, dark-haired guy in his late twenties or early thirties approaches our table and smiles at Nonna as he sets down glasses of water in front of me and Jake. “Nonna, they need you in the kitchen.”
She pats Jake’s shoulder. “You enjoy your meals, and I’ll see you later.” She turns to me and beams. “It was lovely to meet you, Matt. You come back with Jake soon, okay?”
“Okay.” I’m not sure how Jake feels about it, but I definitely like the idea.
She hurries off to the kitchen, and the server steps closer to the table.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Michael and I’ll be your server tonight.
Would you like me to go over tonight’s specials?
” We nod, and he pulls out his order pad.
“Today’s appetizer is veal-stuffed banana peppers served in a bed of house marinara.
The pasta special is carbonara, which is a rich, thick cream sauce with bacon, caramelized onions, and ricotta cheese served over your choice of pasta.
There’s also a sauteed pork tenderloin with roasted red peppers, leeks, and garlic.
And our special dessert this evening is a toasted almond cream cake.
That’s all in addition to the regular offerings that I have for you to review.
” Michael hands us each a large, double-sided menu filled with everything the restaurant offers, and my eyes practically pop out of my head at the sheer number of things on it.
“I’ll give you some time to look that over.
Can I get you anything to drink? Something from the bar? ”
Jake doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll have an iced tea, please.”
“I’ll have the same. Thanks.”
Michael inclines his head and walks towards the bar. When I look at Jake, he’s frowning. “I hope you didn’t forgo an alcoholic beverage because I ordered iced tea.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m driving, and I’m not that big of a drinker anyway. I might have a glass of wine or a beer on a rare occasion, but no more than that.”
Jake’s expression morphs from surprised to pleased.
“Yeah, I’m not a big drinker either. I like to have a clear head.
” He gestures at the menu in my hands. “So, don’t let it intimidate you.
Nonno’s has everything from pizza to veal, but it’s all delicious, and all homemade. You can’t go wrong with anything.”
It’s easy to say don’t let the menu intimidate me.
But looking at it makes following that instruction difficult.
Nonno’s has two different soups, three kinds of breads, about fifteen appetizers, nine kinds of pizza, eight salad options, omelets, sandwiches, pasta, eggplant, chicken, fish, veal, and pork as well as nine different dessert offerings.
And that’s just one side of the menu. The other has drink options and a kids menu. “This is incredible.”
He must see my eyes darting everywhere on the page because he pulls on the top of the menu until I drop it and give him my attention. “I know. Let’s try this. If you could eat any type of main course, what would it be? I’m thinking beef, chicken, fish, vegetarian—like that.”
“Oh. Um, probably beef, pork, or chicken. I’m a bit of a carnivore.”
He grins. “Okay, so, which of those are you most in the mood for tonight?”
Hmmm. “Beef or pork.”
“Great. So we’ve narrowed down the huge menu to two small sections. Do you have a preference between those two?”
I shake my head. “No. I like them both about the same.”
“Well, what did you think about the pork special? They’re usually called special for a reason.“ His smile makes his already handsome face even more attractive.
“Oh, good point. I forgot about that.” I pick up my menu.
“Maybe I’ll concentrate on the pork section and go from there.
” I glance back at Jake. “Thank you. I don’t usually get so overwhelmed with decisions, but I’m not often confronted with choices of this magnitude.
When I have fifty-some options, yeah, I’m going to get overwhelmed. ”
He covers my hand with his, and a jolt of excitement races through me.
“Hey, no big deal. I felt the same way the first time I came here.” He grins mischievously.
“Want to know my solution?” I nod encouragingly.
“I downloaded a randomizer onto my phone and put in all the main course categories. Then when I’d decide to eat here I’d hit the randomizer, it would tell me which category to order from, and I’d pick something from that section.
I made myself order something different each time. ”
My eyes widen in appreciation of the lengths he went to. “That’s pretty impressive. It also means you ate here a lot. No wonder they love you.”
He laughs. “That’s me. Or it can be. I don’t usually do things by halves. But if it’s any consolation, I’m still working through the few remaining items I haven’t tried. Which is why I’m going to go with the veal Milanese.”
I do a quick scan of the pork options and set down my menu. “I’ll go with the pork special.”
Michael returns with our drinks, and we give him our orders, then it’s just the two of us.
Jake dives right in, giving me very little time to overthink anything, which is a good thing.
“So, how did you end up owning a pottery studio?” He crosses his arms on the table and leans in, giving me his full attention and asking like he really cares.
“The same way anyone does, probably. I’ve always loved art and been artistically inclined.
I took a ton of art classes in high school and knew it was what I wanted to do as a career.
But my parents insisted that I go to a four-year college so I could minor in business.
The hope was that I’d know how to make a sound business plan and have a solid foundation for my art. ”
“That seems smart. I’m assuming that’s what you did?”
The memory of that discussion makes me chuckle. “Yeah, after some very strenuous coaxing by my parents. And by coaxing, I mean threatening not to help me pay for college or cosign any loans.” Jake hums in understanding. “Was that what happened to you, too?”
“No. For me, it involved a boy.” I raise an eyebrow, and he grins.
“I’m not sure if I told you, or Lee did, or neither of us did, but I’m a fundraiser for the Salem Art Foundation.
It’s not glamorous, but I’m good at it and I’m also doing good for the community with it, which is nice.
Anyway, I went to college for business with visions of becoming an event planner or something like that. ”
“That sounds interesting. What happened?”
Jake takes a sip of his water before continuing.
“Well, during sophomore year, this guy lived across the hall from me in the dorms.” He gets a faraway, dreamy look on his face.
“Sven Perrson. Six feet, two inches, blond messy hair, blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut paper. And the sweetest thing ever.” He snaps out of his daydream to pin me with an intense look.
“Seriously, he was a walking golden retriever. I watched him literally give a complete stranger the shirt off his back. Needless to say, I had a huge crush on poor Sven. Not that he knew it. He was kind of oblivious.”