Page 79 of Two Chances With You

“Not at all! It’s a place that only serves pasta.”

The proprietor introduces himself as a certain Alberto. He says hello, shows us to a table, and suggests we try a “triptych,” as he puts it. “Trofie al pesto, tortelloni alla zucca, and rice with shrimp and champagne.”

We exchange a glance and nod our heads. Okay, all right, certainly.

“And to drink?”

Step asks if there’s some kind of white wine, at least I think he did. But I didn’t hear all that well. Avalanchina or something like that.

“Excellent.” Alberto, on the other hand, seems to have understood, and he walks away.

I look around the interior of the club. Arches made of age-old bricks, stones protruding from the walls, and white, brown, and red lights aimed at the ceiling. I look down. A perfect, brand-new terra-cotta floor. Not far away is the kitchen. Faux antiques, wrought iron, older items, and a couple of swing doors like an Old West saloon, and sure enough a young man steps through them with a piping hot dish of something but no one shoots at him. In fact, at one table, they wave happily, urging him to come faster. Who knows how long they’ve been waiting.

“Here is your Falanghina.” Alberto brings a bottle of white wine and places it in the middle of the table, uncorking it smoothly. Falanghina, not Avalanchina. I’m out of it. Step takes the bottle and pours some in my glass. Then I wait for him to pour some for himself, and we lift them to drink.

“Hold on. Let’s drink a toast,” Step says.

I look at him with some concern.

“Let’s hear it.” I smile. “What are we drinking to?”

“You name it. Each one decides for themselves and then we raise the toast together.”

I focus for a second while he looks me in the eyes. Then he extends his glass and clinks it against mine. “Maybe we’re making the same wish.”

“Maybe someday we’ll tell each other.”

“If it comes true.”

I look at Step, trying to understand. He smiles at me. “Oh, it’ll come true. It’ll come true.”

And I toss it back all at once with the certainty that sooner or later that wish, at leastmywish, is going to come true. We’ll make love…What? Help! What am I saying? Omigod.

I must get distracted. I look around. How different the other couples seem, each dining at their separate tables. Who knows why it is, but we each always believe that we’re the best. Or at least, that’s how it is with me. Yes, Gin the Conceited One.

“Ahhh!”

“Wait, what are you doing, shouting?” Step looks at me with concern. “You’ve gone insane.”

“No, I’m just happy!” And I shout again while the bored lady at the table stops chewing for a second and stares at me in astonishment, her curiosity piqued. And I, well, I smile at her. I take a morsel of food from the dishes that have just been brought to the table, and I put it in my mouth. “Yum, delicious…”

I twist my forefinger into my cheek, still gazing at my bored neighbor who shakes her head, uncomprehending. And to think that the man, sitting across from her, hasn’t even noticed a thing.

And Step laughs. And he looks at me. And he shakes his head.

And I smile at him. “Hey, aren’t you spending too much money?”

“This dinner is my brother’s treat. Actually, he’s a little tight when it comes to paying for things, but he has plenty of money.”

“Great! But why is he doing it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just to help me, his little brother who has trouble meeting women.”

***

And off we go again, laughing. Then we get in the car. I don’t know how it is, but I still find two euros in my pocket. I give them to the valet who might have been hoping for something more. But then he appears to think it over, and he’s satisfied, and he guides me out of the parking spot. “Come on. Keep coming, sir.You’re good, you’re good. I guarded your car like a precious little flower.”

He gets no answer from me except a curt nod of the head.

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