Keep Tuscany, page 29
Maggie’s driving has always been terrifying, but in Italy it’s a downright thrill ride. I have to pretend it’s all happening to someone else. The girls are chattering about plans on who’s going into the walls.
“No one is going into the walls. That’s why there are professionals there. Let’s assess the situation and come up with a suitable game plan.” Maggie smiles tightly and I can see her biting the inside of her cheek. “Say it, Maggie.”
“Hey girls, who does your dad sound like?”
Sloane yells, “Grandpa!”
And Daisy adds, “This is not a Vice-Presidential situation, Dad. There’s a life on the line.”
I turn to Maggie, ignoring my children. “Did you just mock me through the girls?” She shrugs and takes a turn way too fast up her driveway. “It’s a very good thing I’m in love with you.”
She cackles loudly. Then the girls do too, and I take the teasing. Gemma never allowed this kind of mocking or joking. Any levity was on her own terms, and again I think about how sad she must have been. As alone as I felt in our marriage, she must have felt it too. We both made that bed, and my heart pulls. Maggie flies out of the car with the girls on her heels, and I halt them with a word.
“Fumigation.”
The doors and windows are covered in thick plastic and people are parading out of the house in hazmat suits with cages of bats. I had no idea there were still so many in her damn house. The AirBnB people are nowhere to be found but I saved all the receipts.
“Daddy, they can’t hurt them.”
I shiver at how gross they are, but hope they take up residence in the nine large bat houses I’ve built on the edges of the property.
A man comes out with a clipboard and Maggie runs to him.
“Scusi. English?”
“Yes. Si.”
He lifts his hood. “This is my house and I have a problem.”
Daisy runs over. “There’s a mongoose in the wall, and you can’t kill it. You can’t. Please tell me you haven’t killed an innocent mongoose.” Her overdramatic nature really living up to its potential here.
He laughs long and hard and yells in Italian to others to gather around.
“Dice Italiano, Miss?”
“Si. Si.”
“Explain what you said.”
Sloane yells in Italian, “Salva la mangusta all’interno delle mura. Devi farlo adesso!” My passionate girl just ordered them to save the mongoose in the walls, and she speaks Italian without hesitation or thinking now. Wonder if she’s aware she did it.
The crew all bend over laughing and can’t stop. I want to laugh too, but the girls are so earnest in their desire to save a life. I get it, doesn’t take therapy to realize that this death is in their control.
A woman takes off her hood and says in Italian, “Venire.” Then gestures for us to follow her to the back of the house to a series of tents set as their command central. There are cages, devices and in the corner there’s a large, tall almost refrigerator box lying horizontally. We approach with trepidation.
“Oh, my kittens!” Maggie yells.
There’s a large grey striped tabby cat on her side with five tiny kittens suckling. Sloane squeals and Daisy has tears running down her face. Pretty sure I’m now the proud owner of seven cats.
Maggie turns to the woman. “They were in the walls upstairs?”
“Si. Con fruitti.”
Maggie leans over the box. “Mongoose, why didn’t you tell me you were a cat?” I get behind her and whisper in her ear.
“You do know it wasn’t fighting or killing in the walls, right?”
Her eyes go wide, and she tilts her head. Then she slaps at my arm, getting my point when I raise my eyebrows.
“They were making love?” she says quietly.
“Mags, they were ally cat feral fucking.” Her face gets a small blush of pink. I lick at the spot behind her ear.
“Are you calling me an ally cat?”
“If the feral fits,” I say louder, and she shakes her head.
“Mongoose cat. What are we going to do with you?”
A gruff man from the corner says, “Fucking cats. We can’t legally do anything about them in Italy except save them.”
“Daddy, seriously.” Sloane says, “It’s the law.”
Daisy smiles, “Accidental pregnancy.”
“Happy accident,” I say, then I fluff Daisy’s hair.
“I’ll take them to the hotel with me.” Maggie’s big heart almost explodes all over us. The girls begin to whine.
I look at the woman. “Let me guess, they’re all girls.”
“Except this one. And the father who is lurking around the perimeter.” She picks up a little orange ruffian and hands it to me. “Now, you have a boy.”
“Okay, fine. But they come back here as soon as the house is ready. We are not keeping them. They can be lemon grove cats.” They finish up with mom and start wandering around the box milk drunk. Everyone scoops one up.
Maggie grins and rubs a tiny white belly in her arms. The girls are arguing over which cat is the cutest. I can’t take my eyes off the woman who melts every heart, sees the good in everything and is mine. I know we have to go slow, but she should know if it were up to me I’d have a ring on her finger and her legs spread open wide like a banquet right now. Slow.
56
colt
The girls are with Maggie tonight with the cats in the cleaned up villa. We spent the last couple of days christening each bat free villa room. The property is stunning. I have spent little time here yet, but I discovered, while on a run, there’s an abandoned tiled pool with a fountain that no longer works. There are also a series of small one-bedroom houses all over the property, I assume, for workers that used to work the grove. I explored a couple but I’m sure all the grounds fell into the overgrown jungle when the caretaker hit his 90th birthday. I want to resurrect them for her. Not sure what she’d do with little houses, but it gives me a project.
I took myself to Florence tonight because I was missing the pace of a city. I don’t miss Boston all the time, but the energy’s different from our sleepy old town. Funny, I called it ours. It might be nice to have an apartment in Florence and a house somewhere else. Or a villa. Tuscany is more home than I’ve ever felt in my life except around my brothers.
My toe catches on the tip of a cobblestone, and I look up. It is like the universe is catching me calling this place home. I didn’t intend to weave myself into this Italian fabric, but maybe we were always a part of it and now we’re discovering it. Italy knew, we belong here.
I sit down at a café for a caffe. The fall colors of harvest gold, a darker green and burgundy, are blooming in the pots and planters that previously held fuchsia, rich violets and that brighter yellow of summer. If Maggie were a color, it would be yellow. Forever bright, complex, buoyant and makes everything shine better and brighter. What the fuck have I been doing all these years living in a world without yellow? I try calling my mom, but she doesn’t pick up and I’m relieved. I want to see where her head would be if I float the idea of Maggie, but I also don’t want to taint what’s happening with their bullshit.
Hayden: Law was just named best pitcher under thirty or some bullshit.
Tony: Yeah. I heard. {SELFIE Tony, Dax, Law}
Colt: That’s not fair.
Law: Domestic Brothers only.
Robbie: What the fuck? I go to the bathroom and you document without me. {SELFIE of Robbie flipping off Tony, Dax and Law}
Dax: We’re two blocks from the house you own here, Colt. So, fuck off and get here.
Hayden: I liked you a lot better before you decided to share your voice more. Fuck you all. Where’s our invite?
Colt: Ouch.
Tony: Colt, you owe nothing since you’re the only one who bet on Law Making the list before 30.
Law: Awe, buddy. I want to do something sweet for you. Can I send you a blowjob or something?
Colt: All good in that department.
Hayden: Tell Lizzie I need one.
Tony: Staying out of it. But Mak did say Maggie is super happy. I’m guessing you’re back into the boning on the reg business.
Colt: Groan.
Law: Hey. Wait. If Colt’s the only one who doesn’t owe–that means you assholes all bet against me?
Hayden: Aren’t you all sitting next to each other?
Robbie: Yeah. We look like anti-social muthafuckers all on our phones, sitting side by side.
Colt: Enjoy your night. It’s fucking late there dudes. Go home. Do you need me to call an UBER?
Dax: On it.
Colt: Send me the receipts and I’ll piece your night together for you.
Tony: Come home.
Colt: Not yet. You always have a place here with us.
Robbie: Claire’s freaked out by the bat stories from here. Fat Chance I’ll ever get to visit Italy. Paris is fine because of the grandmother situation, but Italy, can’t justify it. Sorry, brother.
Tony: We’re slammed. Mak with applying to internships, and the Cookery has a new launch.
Hayden: Fuck you all. We’ll can come to Italy next weekend. Mamas in tow. They want to see the place that spawned a village of cats and then they’re setting off for some beach hijinks. You got room for all of us? We’ll be there. Lizzie’s texting with her right now.
Colt: Yeah. We’ve got plenty of room. I’ll alert Mags. Her bat free and cat filled villa is huge.
Dax: I don’t like the way this is coming together. I’ll see what Monica’s schedule is. She’s finishing out her parks contract and I don’t know how to tell her how much I HATE Maine. It’s too quiet.
Law: What are we babbling about? I’m here. With you, assholes. Put your phones down. Bye Bro. Thanks for the vote of confidence Colt. Don’t text again.
Hayden: Love you, baby bro.
Law: What did I just fucking type. We OUT!
NOTIFICATIONS HAVE BEEN SILENCED BY LAWRENCE DANSON
Hayden: Good one. Ah shit. He just put on his DND. HA! Gotta miss home. Catch you tomorrow with details, Colt.
Colt: Night.
I look back at that café and this street. I’m not sure I can tell them, I am home. And that this is the last girls’ night for a while. I loved being in this city, and alone for a moment, but it only made me miss the three of them.
57
maggie
Our arms are overflowing from the big market in Lucca. I’ve set up private tours of the Uffizi, and the Duomo, and bought out a small, amazing trattoria that has the best Bisteca Florentine that doesn’t mind kids. I wish Mak and Tony could make it over, but her schedule is too much. So, it will be Hayden, Lizzie, their son Danny. And the moms for two nights. The Villa, if we make up the terrible office, which I’ve added a sofa bed to, has nine workable bedrooms. I didn’t know that the connected house at the back wasn’t a garage. Turns out it’s a four-bedroom guesthouse with a freaking sitting room and kitchen. According to Colt, the caretaking couple sealed it off because I said I didn’t need it and they didn’t want the upkeep. But it does explain the higher cost of my rental. I just extended again. I’m sure there’s a cheaper and more suitable place but it’s not like Colt asked me to move in there and Mongoose, the vermin, which is what we call all the kittens, and I like it.
We weren’t fully ‘us’ again yet when we saw them last. The girls are taking it all in stride. Our first all Andrews sleepover is tonight. I’ve had the girls to the villa for slumber parties with the cats, but Colt’s has never stayed a full night. And I’m not so sure Colt and I will share a bedroom tonight, but we will spend all this time together. This is the next step to it all.
Colt’s holding my hand as we walk back over to my car. I look at him and wonder if this is what our lives could be. We don’t talk about our future, we just live moment to moment, and this is a good one. The sun is out, it’s not too hot. It’s tourist crowded as hell and there’s a flutter in my belly that I’m not one of them. I belong somewhere. I turn and a red onion rolls out in front of us. We stop and then it’s like an avalanche of produce. We quickly start gathering our ingredients as they fall out of the hole in my market tote.
“There’s a zucchini over there.” Colt points and I laugh.
“There’s one right there too.” I smile and point at his crotch.
He grabs himself. “That’s an eggplant and don’t you forget it.” I grab our bag of chestnuts and put it over my chest and he guffaws. We’re crouching down and he sees the rip in the bottom of my bag.
My phone rings. I stand up and answer it while Colt shoves our purchases into his bag. “Lizzie!”
“We’re early. I’m so sorry. You know me, afraid of being late or breaking the rules, so I’m in a quandary. I’m here before the specified invited time. Is that okay?”
“Wonderful. Are the girls there? They were going for a bike ride, but if not you can just go in.”
“No more bats?” Lizzie asks.
“They’re all gone, and the house has been cleaned and sealed. There are even windows with glass and locks now.” Colt paid for them even though I explained it’s a rental.
“You really are moving up in the world.” I smile because I get to grow this friendship with this amazing person who knows what it’s like to get a second chance at love.
“Okay, well, we’ll hurry. We just had to go to the peasant market because someone had to have the exact herb grown by a very specific farm for a dish he’s cooking tonight.” We glance over to Gus and Chiara’s place. Where he took me on our first official date and frequent almost every day. I point to the building. “Oh no. I’m not sure but does that say they’re closed forever? And I don’t know some of those words.” It’s sad.
There are spray painted boards over the windows that say, “Grazie per venticinque anni meravigliosi. Arrivederci e Dio vi benedica. Tieni d’occhio questo spazio per qualcosa di meraviglioso che non vediamo l’ora. Suricato.”
Colt’s on his knees and looks over at me and grins. Then he sits right down on the sidewalk and pats the spot next to him to join him. I grab a tomato and bring it to him then sit down next to him. He puts his hand around me.
“I know you love this place, but this is silly.”
“You know it’s the perfect spot, right?” He tilts his head towards mine.
“What do you mean? Come on! What does it all say? I can only make out a couple of words. What’s Suricato?”
He takes my hand and turns back to the closed restaurant. He points to the Barbie door. There’s that word above it again in a new shiny plaque. Suricato.
He clears his voice and says very officially, “Thank you for twenty-five wonderful years. Goodbye and God Bless. Watch this space for something wonderful. We can’t wait to eat at Meerkat, opening soon.”
I gasp and turn to him. “That’s so weird. Isn’t that weird? Someone named your favorite restaurant after the dumb name you call me. It’s so cosmic.”
He lifts an eyebrow and cocks his head. He rubs his hand over mine, and I finally catch up. “Oh! Oh, my god. This is wonderful. I love you so much.”
“I hope so. I named my restaurant after you.” I kiss him as hard as I know how.
“Will I have to pay?”
“We’ll work something out.”
“Is this how we stay?”
“It’s a start.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, and once again I stare at our future. The one I’ll get to have this time around. The one I’m a part of actively planning.
We arrive, and I run inside to hug Lizzie but am stopped in my tracks by six men playing Bocce, drinking and smoking cigars in my front yard just short of where the lemon grove starts. My head spins around as I try to make sense of what’s happening. There’s a gorgeous gazebo off to the side of the grove and there are flowers everywhere. Decorated flowers not bloomed flowers. They’re not my flowers.
Colt slams the trunk of his car, and I turn to him. “What did you do? What’s going on? I’m so confused. I don’t get it.”
“What, love?”
I point at the men.
“What game you playing at, Meerkat?”
I yell, “I didn’t do this. What is happening?”
I run from Colt over to the men.
I run into the arms of my dad. “Daddy! What are you doing here?” Then I spin on the others and squeal.
“Pretty decent place you got here,” Tony says.
“Yeah, kinda gorgeous,” Robbie puffs.
Colt walks up with his hands in his pocket and stares at them. Then he nods, “Assholes.” They nod back at him.
“Asshole. This is the kind of place that might be absolutely perfect for certain kinds of things,” Hayden says.
“Out with it? What are you playing at? I don’t get it.” I scold them as they tease me.
Law, who didn’t make the playoffs is here. I watched him pitch two nights ago, and now he’s here. He waggles his eyebrows, and hands me my old Boston Revelers pen. Colt grins as he sees it again. My eyes get wide. “Here, this will take care of two of those stupid girl things.”
