Epilogue
CHARLIE
Two years later
The house on Cemetery Street no longer stands on Cemetery Street.
Board by board, window by window, it was deconstructed, driven, sailed and shipped to a scenic hilltop in the village of Montecolognola, in the province of Perugia, Italy. The Moore family’s new address.
After Dario settled affairs with the bank and permanently moved back into Villa Meraviglia, they tore down the barn house and replaced it with an utterly American-style home with origins in Slatington, Pennsylvania.
Of course, it looks a little different now since not every piece could be salvaged, and all the appliances are now in tip-top working order, but it has the same bones, the same heart.
Turns out, it was never the house Charlie was determined to save when he entered that contest years ago. It was home, and home always will be wherever his family is.
Today, they all gather in a tent staked into the lawn between the two houses—both alike in dignity—to celebrate their second wedding anniversary.
The table is laid with an impressive spread. Paola and her staff ensure no dish is ever empty. Charlie gives her air kisses as she flies past. He still does not understand how such an old woman can move so speedily.
Mom and Dad sit near the head of the table still in their Amorina polos. They would not dream of early retirement—both making quips about idle hands—so they settled on factory floor manager and tourism admin roles respectively.
Grandpa comes out from the house in his new prosthetic, fitted and more high-functioning than any he has had before. “Did you start without me?” he asks.
“We got hungry,” says Grandma, who feeds herself a hearty arancini. After the move to Italy and with the right care team, Grandma’s symptoms have abated. No more bibs or Charlie cutting up her food. Her restored autonomy has made her happier than ever.
“Can somebody pass the olive oil?” asks Michelle as she takes a piece of fresh bread from the basket Emilio hands her. They reconnected post-divorce and post-graduation, and she might be wearing one of her own wedding dress designs down the aisle in the near future.
Populating the far end of the table are Beau and Selina. Bygones are bygones.
Beau gave up his obsession with challenges and job shifts as soon as he started playing the blues. He became a permanent member of the band he performed with two years ago and comes to stay at Villa Meraviglia any time a European tour passes through.
Selina’s online fame brought new recognition to Gabriele Vitale’s expert tailoring, so she and Dario crossed paths quite a bit over the past two years. They buried the hatchet, and while it’s not exactly a close friendship, their connection remains strong over their love of finely crafted menswear.
“Anyone seen Dario?” Charlie asks, finding his seat at the crowded table.
“Sono proprio qui!” he calls. I am right here. Charlie is crushing his Italian lessons. Though having your sexy husband as a teacher can be quite distracting at times, especially when they get to the more romantic words and phrases. “I was helping Mamma with something.”
Dario kisses Charlie as they sit.
Holding a microphone, April appears on the pool deck in a stage light Charlie had no idea was set up.
Behind her, a pianist sits at a keyboard he’s never seen.
“Before we eat, I would like to say a huge congratulations to Dario and Charlie on two years of wedded bliss. An extra congratulations to Charlie, who just two days ago did his first flash design as a newly minted tattoo artist.”
Charlie smiles as he earns a round of applause. Marcella made good on her promise to take him on as an apprentice. While it was slow-going at first due to their language barrier, they settled into a flow that worked for them.
“Can we see?” Emilio asks.
“I can show you all later,” Dario says, leaning in and kissing Charlie on the cheek. Dario is both his muse and his canvas, at least the areas he can easily cover with his business attire.
“And, if I may,” April says, calling the group back to her, “I’d like to dedicate a song to you both. It’s an Italian American classic.” The pianist does a little flourish. “If you know it, feel free to sing along.”
The whole group gives out a delighted little gasp of recognition. April sings about the moon looking like pizza, then turns the microphone on the table.
They all sweetly shout back, “That’s amore!”