Page 72 of Two Chances With You

I shyly raise my hand. “I did, Uncle Ardisio.” And I wait for the response. My uncle gives me a look with one eyebrow raised slightly, a somewhat dubious expression. A few too many seconds tick past, and I start to worry.

“Good job. It’s a lovely place, young lady, I like it. For real. There was a time when people ate surrounded with art…”

I sigh. Phew. It was acceptable, and even if I don’t much care about the title of “young lady,” I do love my uncle. I was hoping he’d enjoy eating with all of us at the Caffè dell’Arte near Rome’s Viale Bruno Buozzi.

Uncle Ardisio begins one of his stories. “I still remember the time I flew over the encampment, looking down on all my men…” His voice grows slightly hoarse, as if modulated by the pressure of his memories, here and there cracking under the weight of sentimental nostalgia. “And I shouted and shouted to them, ‘Study, read.’ But they were all too concerned with death. And then I circled around in my twin-engine airplane and came back to report in and landed on the meadow nearby. Bing, bang, boom, all tossed around like a bushel of wheat, I landed in that airplane, which I considered a miracle of modern avation…”

Luke naturally is a stickler for details exactly when he shouldn’t be. “Aviation, Uncle, aviation with ani.”

“Which is what I just said, isn’t it? Avation, right?”

Luke shakes his head and smiles. Luckily, this time he decides to let it ride.

A young and serious waiter arrives at the table. His hair is short but not excessively so, and he has a naive but clear-eyed gaze. Almost perfect, I’d venture to say, if it weren’t that he’s pushing a trolley upon which perch an array of glistening champagne flutes, polished to a fine sheen, as well as a bottle already sitting comfortably in an ice bucket, chilling away. It’s a Möet & Chandon, a first-rate champagne, and certainly not what we expect, seeing that we’re footing the bill.

“Excuse me, eh? But this can’t be right. No one ordered a…” I can already see Mamma glancing over at me with a worried look.

The young waiter replies with a smile. “No, signora, this bottle is sent to your table with the compliments of that gentleman across the room.”

The waiter, even more serious now, points to a table some distance away, practically at the far end of the restaurant. Framed by the trees depicted in the stained-glass windows behind him, it’s Step. He gets up from his table and bows his head, smiling, performing an understated bow. I can’t believe it—he’s followed me here. And certainly, he wanted to see where I was going, he wanted to see if I was really with my family. But maybe he just wanted to express an apology for the unsuccessful aperitif; after all, he came off looking like a fool in that situation himself.

“This note is for you, signora.”

The waiter hands me a slip of paper, and this only further reinforces my belief that my choice is the correct one. I open it, slightly embarrassed, with everyone’s eyes focused on me. Before reading it, I blush. Oh, what a pain in the ass. Why now of all times? I read it.It’s wonderful to look at you from a distance, but from up close, it’s even better. Can I see you tonight? P.S. Don’t worry, I found an ATM, and I’ve already paid the waiter for our aperitif.

I fold up the note, and I smile and practically forget that I have everyone’s eyes on me. Uncle Ardisio, Papà, Mamma, Luke. They all want to know what the note said, what prompted the delivery of that fine bottle to our table, and naturally the one who is most unbridled, the one whose curiosity is most probing and persistent, is Uncle Ardisio. “All right, then, princess, to what do we owe this bottle?”

“Well. I helped that guy. He didn’t know how, he was having trouble, oh, he was just studying for an exam.”

“Ardisio, what business is it of yours?” Mamma throws me a lifeline. “We have a nice bottle of champagne here on the table. Let’s just raise a toast and drink in peace! No?”

“Right, exactly…”

I look at Step, and I smile in his direction. He sees me from a distance, and he’s sitting down again. But now what is he doing? Why doesn’t he leave? That was nice, and now enough’s enough. Go on, beat it, Step. What are you waiting for?

“Excuse me?”

The waiter is looking at me with a smile. He still hasn’t opened the bottle.

“Yes?”

“That gentleman told me that he’d appreciate an answer.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure, but I imagine an answer to the note.”

Everyone looks at me again, even more closely this time than before.

“Why, tell him yes.” Then I look at them. “Yes, he just wanted to know if I’d signed him up for the exam.”

They all heave a sigh of relief. Except for Mamma, naturally, who stares at me, but I avoid her gaze. Again, I turn back to look at the waiter, who now pulls out another note. “In that case, I’m instructed to give you this, signora.”

“Another note?”

Everyone is a little gobsmacked.

“Wait, so this time are you going to tell us what it says?”

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