Chapter 67
Giorgio
It took a couple of weeks for both Emilia and me to get the weekend off.
Her job was the problem, not mine. Adriano was totally cool with it and even offered the Mercedes without me asking.
Finally, on a Saturday morning in mid-October, we headed for Montepulciano.
Emilia was especially nervous.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“The problem is, our first date was only two weeks ago, and now I’m going to meet your parents!”
I suppressed a smile. “If you prefer, I can tell them we’ve been sleeping together for three weeks.”
“NO!”
I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m going to tell them I’ve known you for almost two months.”
“You mean, back when I hated you?”
“Exactly!” I said cheerfully.
She shook her head. “Please don’t tell your parents that I ever hated you.”
I grinned. “My parents wouldn’t have a problem with that. They’d find it funny – especially Mama.”
“Is there anything they would have a problem with? Any topics I should avoid?”
“Yeah,” I said wryly. “Why you hated me in the beginning.”
“…oh.” Emilia was silent for a moment. “So I’m guessing they’re not real fond of you working for Adriano’s family.”
I clenched my jaw. “You could say that.”
“So… try to avoid the topic.”
“I’d appreciate it, yeah.”
Emilia gazed out the window at the passing scenery. “How did you get the job with Adriano’s family if you lived all the way out here?”
“A friend of mine from high school moved to Florence and went to work for them.”
Lorenzo.
I hadn’t thought about him for weeks.
I tried not to think about him at all these days. Not since San Michele, when we’d rescued Lucia.
“What does Lorenzo’s family think about him working for your bosses?” Emilia asked.
As I stared at the road ahead of me, memories filled my mind.
Lorenzo’s casket in the tiny chapel where they’d had the memorial service.
The smell of the flower arrangements the Rosolini family had sent, their sweetness suffocating in the tight space.
The sting of his mother’s palm on my face as she slapped me –
And the sounds of her sobs as she crumpled to the floor.
“…I don’t know,” I lied. “I have enough problems with my family.”
Emilia knew I was dealing with something, so she remained silent for a few minutes.
But eventually she gasped and said, “It’s so beautiful here!”
“It is,” I agreed.
We’d entered Val d’Orcia – the valley of the Orcia river.
If you’ve ever seen a photograph of Tuscany, it was likely taken in Val d’Orcia. The area is chock-full of iconic Tuscan elements: rolling hills… farmland… tall, skinny cypress trees…
The Rosolinis’ estate looked very much like Val d’Orcia, even though it was some 60 miles to the northwest.
If you’ve seen the movie Gladiator, they used Val d’Orcia to stand in for the Spanish homeland of Russel Crowe’s character Maximus.
In my opinion, there is no more beautiful place in Italy.
Emilia spent the next twenty minutes gazing out the window.
As we got closer, she asked nervously, “Remind me of everybody’s names again?”
“Well, you can just call my parents Signor and Signora Navarrini.”
“Of course.”
“Giancarlo’s my older brother. He and his wife Cinzia have two little kids, Alberto and Mirabella. Palmira’s my older sister. She’s the one who works at the hotel. She’s married to Renzo, but they don’t have any kids. Then there’s me – ”
“With no kids, thankfully,” Emilia interrupted.
“Yet. I’ve got three on the way,” I said with a grin. “I shook on it.”
Emilia gawped at me with an open mouth. “You better not tell your parents that!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. If I do, Mama won’t give you a moment’s peace until you pop the first one out.”
“Great…” she grumbled.
I laughed. “Then there’s my younger brothers Benito and Rolando.
Benito just got married to Carla a year ago.
Rolando’s living with his girlfriend Silvia in town – but don’t mention that around my mother, she’s pretty pissed that they’re ‘living in sin.’ And my youngest sister Serafina lives with my parents. ”
“I’m never going to remember all those names,” Emilia said mournfully.
“Don’t worry, there won’t be a quiz at the end.” I paused. “That I know of.”
She gave me an I’m not amused look, then returned to staring at the scenery.
We eventually pulled off the main road and traveled down a gravel drive until we reached my parents’ house, which sat all by itself on four acres of land. All my married siblings lived in houses built on the same property.
My father and brothers worked for the nearest winery, but my family tended our own little patch of olive trees and vineyards.
There was really only enough to make small batches of olive oil and wine, which they sold on consignment to local tourist shops.
It was basically a hobby that turned a modest profit.
But it was ours.
…theirs, actually.
I’d walked away from it nine months ago, when I took a job with the Rosolinis.
When I parked the car and Emilia and I got out, three dogs tore out of the vineyards and came racing over to the Mercedes. They were all black lab mutts with grey showing on their muzzles.
“Who’s a good boy, huh?” I asked as I squatted down and rubbed their heads. “Who’s a good boy?”
“Who’s this?” Emilia asked as she petted one of the dogs that came over to sniff at her dress.
“That’s Dolce,” I said. ‘Dolce’ was Italian for sweet. “Over here are Mario and Luigi.”
Emilia looked at me in disbelief. “Mario and Luigi?”
“My brothers and I played a lot of Mario Kart as kids.”
“I thought there were six dogs?”
I smiled sadly. “We’ve had them forever. These are the only ones left.”
“Oh…”
Suddenly the front door opened and Mama came out, still wearing an apron.
“Giorgio!” she cried out, her arms flung wide.
“Hey, Mama,” I said, and kissed her on both cheeks.
“And who is this beautiful young lady you’ve brought home?” she asked happily.
“This is Emilia.”
“Hello, Signora Navarrini,” Emilia said, and kissed Mama on each cheek.
“Emilia – such a pretty name!” Mama said as she wrapped an arm around my girlfriend and led her to the house. “But you’re far too skinny! You need some good home-cooked food – we’re gonna have to fatten you right up!”
As Emilia gave me a panicked look, I just grinned and winked at her.
And so it began.