Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Friendly Neighbors
F rankie awoke from a deep sleep. At first, she didn't know where she was, until she looked out the window. The leaves on the lemon tree were swaying to the breeze. She could smell the air. Definitely different. She reached for her phone to see what time it was. Five o'clock where she was, and eleven where her parents were. She noticed a group text from Giovanni that was directed to her parents. A driver named Stephano would meet them on the sidewalk outside of the baggage claim area, and he would have a sign. He included Stephano in the text so everyone would have their contact information should anything go awry. Frankie smiled. Giovanni would make a great travel agent. Even better than her! She knew Giovanni to be very organized, often more compulsive than she was, but this trip? Impressive.
She stretched and sprung up from the bed. She needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. She padded down the hallway. Voices were coming from the kitchen.
" Buona sera !" Rosevita called out. "Nice nap?"
Frankie still had what she called "the grogs." "Yes. I think I need more sleep." She took in a heavy breath through her nose, trying not to yawn in her hostesses' faces.
Giovanni was drying some pots. "Bella! Come stai ?"
"Molto bene! Grazie." That was pretty much the extent of her Italian. Again, she was silently embarrassed for not taking the time to learn more—especially after being with Giovanni for almost two years. But he rarely spoke Italian in front of her, so it never was an issue. Learning Italian was going to be her New Year's resolution, she determined.
Frankie picked up a towel and began helping Giovanni with the dishes when there was a knock at the back door.
Rosevita glanced out the window. It was Mr. Parisi. Frankie noticed Rosevita take a glimpse of herself in the reflection and smooth her hair. Interesting. She still cared how she presented herself. A good sign.
Rosevita opened the door and greeted the nice man who lived a few houses down the road. " Buona sera !"
He set the two plants he was carrying on the counter, removed his hat, and made a slight bow. Frankie figured him to be in his mid-sixties. He had a full, white head of hair, and steel blue eyes. A lot of Italians have blue eyes , she noted. Must be a lot of recessive genes in the pool. She knew it to be true from her own family. Her grandmother had strawberry-blond hair and green eyes, and she was from Caserta, only eighty kilometers northwest of where she was. It would take less than an hour by car.
Over the centuries, Italy was subjected to many rulers and regimes long before the Roman Empire, overrun by almost every country from the Middle East to the Northern African Coast, and as far north as Normandy and Ireland. Geographically it was a throughfare for international trade. Tunisia was a mere 284 kilometers, or 176 miles, to Sicily by sea. Egypt was approximately a thousand miles to Messina, at the lower left part of the boot of Italy. It wasn't until 1871 when the area became unified and became the official country called Italy. It was no wonder that Frankie's ancestry showed she had a small percentage of both sides of the Mediterranean Sea in her DNA.
Frankie wiped her hands and greeted Mr. Parisi. She could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke to Rosevita. And did she spy a little blush on Rosevita's cheeks? Maybe it wasn't romance, but it was good to see genuine caring between friends. He handed one of the large, white poinsettias to Lucia and one to Rosevita. Good move, Frankie thought.
With the exception of Frankie, everyone spoke in half-English, half-Italian, with Mr. Parisi apologizing for his "miserable English." There was something very charming about this man. Her wheels were turning. Frankie mentioned his wine and how much she enjoyed it. He was very humble, explaining the recipe was in his family for generations. That was when Giovanni took the opportunity to ask, "Is it a secret family recipe?"
"Not so much, really. The grapes can be different from one year to the next. Depends on the weather. You get good grapes, you should get good wine," he said with a smile.
Frankie sensed there was more to Giovanni's question than just wine. Add that to her list of things to discuss. Where were her file cards when she needed them?
Mr. Parisi told them he was on his way to pick up his brother and then go to his daughter's house in Rome. He wanted to be sure to wish everyone a Buon Natale before he left.
Rosevita casually asked when he was going to return.
"In three days."
"For New Year's Eve?" Frankie interjected.
" Sì . We have to throw the pots and pans outta the window," he laughed.
Frankie heard it was one of many traditions, but she had to ask, "Do you really throw them out the window?"
" Sì . You wanna send the bad luck away."
"But what do you do the next day? Do you have to buy new pots and pans?"
"You only throw away the old ones, cara ," Giovanni chuckled.
"So, who cleans them up?"
"One of Santa's elves," Giovanni teased.
Frankie snapped the kitchen towel at him, and everyone laughed out loud.
"You can come and help us throw out the pots and pans, yes?" Frankie decided she was on a mission. Frankie was going to play makeover and matchmaker.
Little did she know that Giovanni was on one, as well. He was determined to get his mother's secret panettone recipe before he left.
Mr. Parisi was about to excuse himself when Rosevita asked him to wait just a minute. She went into the large pantry and returned with one of her famous panettone cakes wrapped in beautiful foil paper. She handed it to him. Her face was slightly flushed. "For your family."
" Mille grazie . Thank you very much." He might have been blushing, too.
"Mama, you made the panettone already?" Giovanni was disappointed. He anticipated he was going to help her and try to convince her to share her secret. Now he had to figure out a different plan.
"Of course, Gio," she said casually, and walked Mr. Parisi to the door. " Buon Natale ! Drive safe! Ciao !"
Frankie noticed that Rosevita watched until Mr. Parisi pulled out of the driveway. Did Giovanni notice, too? Frankie gave him one of her sideways glances. He rolled his eyes in reply.