Epilogue
‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Aimee, happy birthday to you!’
We cheer and clap.
‘To Aimee!’ says Alessandro, standing on a chair and raising a glass of water. ‘And La Tavola!’
We cheer again.
There is still pizza on the long table, bowls of salad, and now a cake.
Stella arrives in the dining room, carrying a big box. ‘Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,’ she says to Aimee.
‘Is that for me?’
‘It is!’
‘Well, let’s hope it’s not another kitten.’ I smile at Stella.
‘No, not another kitten,’ she says, and suddenly she seems a little sheepish.
There’s a squawk.
‘What’s in the box?’ asks Aimee, sliding off her chair in the beautiful party dress Caterina has made for her, with ribbons and netting from the clothes we found in Casa Luna, all having a new life.
Even Giuseppe is in a new suit that has been altered to fit him, as smart as paint.
And the three nonnas are in their Sunday best, each wearing a rose he has brought for them, not singling one out from the others.
There’s another squawk and Stella puts down the box as it starts to shake and move. She beams at Aimee. Suddenly a head pops out and squawks again.
‘A chicken!’ Aimee is delighted.
‘Oh, Stella!’ I say. ‘I thought we said no more animals.’
‘But it’s a chicken! Well, two, actually … and a cockerel. A local farmer said they would make the perfect present. Think of all the eggs!’
‘Excellent for pasta sauce, Tuscan carbonara,’ says Nonna Rosa.
‘The fresher the better,’ agrees Nonna Teresa.
‘I always use fresh eggs and a dash of cream,’ says Nonna Lucia.
Nonna Rosa’s hands fly to her cheeks. ‘Cream? Never cream!’
‘Yes, cream, a dash. My mother always used cream.’
‘No, no! Pasta water and egg yolks.’
‘And onion, a little shallot.’
‘Never onion in a carbonara.’
‘Our mother would be turning in her grave.’
‘And always six egg yolks.’
Nonna Teresa shakes her head. ‘Five. Six is too many.’
‘No, no, six!’
‘We’ll have a competition. A Tuscan carbonara contest,’ announces the mayor, clearly feeling buoyed up and brave.
‘It’s not even Tuscan!’
‘We have to learn to grow and adapt, like we have as a village.’
‘We’re going to need more eggs,’ says Giovanni to me, his arm snaking around my waist.
‘Perhaps we could make it a party,’ says Nonna Lucia.
‘An engagement party,’ says Nonna Teresa.
‘But no one is getting engaged. Silly woman!’ says Nonna Rosa.
‘Actually …’ says a voice from the corner of the room.
We stop talking and turn. It’s Alessandro’s brother, Enrico.
With his nonna on the mobility scooter. He looks around nervously.
‘This place has been here when my brother and I, and Nonna, needed it. A helping hand on the way. And now we have more and more work coming in, thanks to Giovanni helping us set up. I have a job at the school, as the caretaker, as well as other jobs now that people are starting to discover our village through the cookery school and wanting to buy houses here. And we have some family news. Alessandro is going to college to study business in September.’
We erupt into cheers and rush forward to hug him. Giovanni is patting him on the back and I hug him hard. ‘Just remember you can always come home when you need to. We’re here!’ I say.
‘And, remember, cooking for people will always make you friends,’ says Giovanni. ‘I’ll teach you cacio e pepe before you go.’
‘But what about the engagement party?’ I hear Nonna Teresa say, and we all go quiet and turn back to where Caterina is standing with her hands over her nose and mouth.
She is staring at Alessandro’s brother, tears in her eyes, as he takes her hand from her mouth and says, ‘Will you? Will you marry me?’
She nods and throws her arms around him.
‘To hope and happiness!’ says Pietro, and we raise our glasses as we echo the toast.
‘Now, about the wedding menu …’ I hear Nonna Rosa say.
I know that everything that is made will be made with love.