I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, Gio wakes up for the first time in Italy, and gets a gift and some unexpected company for his Italian foodie tour…
< Read Chapter 41 | Read Chapter 43 >
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Chapter Forty-Three
The Bellei Boys
Morning sunlight streamed through le veneziane—Venetian blinds— to draw bright lines across the bright blue and red bedspread—Bologna Football Club’s colors.
Gio sat up and rubbed his eyes, and looked around Dante’s room—his cousin had slept on a couch downstairs the night before. Dante’s room was so much like his own when he’d lived in Italy with Luna that it brought unexpected tears of homesickness to Gio’s eyes. He even had a Bologna FC poster on the wall, though the featured player was Riccardo Orsolini, not Archimede Morleo, like back in his day. Everything changes, but everything stays the same.
There was even a wooden desk and chair in one corner that looked astonishingly like his own. In fact, it probably was. Zia Valentina had helped take care of Luna’s things after Gio’s mother’s death, almost a decade earlier.
Gio patted his stomach. He was still full from the impressive meal his zia had served up to welcome Gio back to Italy. Some crostini for starters sprinkled with olive oil and chopped tomatoes and garlic, the famous passatelli, pizza alla bufala, and for dessert a delicious banana chocolate semifreddo. And they say Americans eat a lot.
There were sounds of activity in the house outside the room—feet padding down the stairs, some clanking probably from the kitchen—and the unmistakable smell of Italian coffee slipped under the door and into the little room. Gardelli, if I had to guess.
He checked his iWatch—8:30 AM. With the nine-hour difference, Babbo would still be awake. He picked up his iPhone and called his father.
Diego answered almost immediately. “Ciao tesoro… come sta l’Italia?”
“Not bad. I got into Bertinoro last night. You wouldn’t believe how big Dante’s gotten!”
Diego chuckled. “You boys grow up so fast. How is mia sorella?”
“She’s good. She made me passatelli last night. I know how you love her passatelli.”
Diego snorted. “I make it better than she does.”
“I don’t know, Babbo. It was pretty good…” In fact Diego’s was better, but Gio couldn’t help teasing him a little over it.
There was a pointed silence on the line. Then “You are no longer my son.”
Gio grinned. “Is that all it takes?”
Diego laughed.
Time to bring up the real reason for my call. “So… I’m going to see mamma today.”
There was another long silence at the other end of the line.
“Babbo?”
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, and Gio thought he heard a sniffle. “It’s hard to believe it’s been ten years. Almost.”
“Almost.” He closed his eyes, remembering that dark time clearly… the afternoon they’d buried his mother. It had been a lovely, bright day, the white towers of the crematorium rising out of the ground like some fantastical castle out of Lord of the Rings. Yet he’d felt only a suffocating sense of numbness. “I miss her, Babbo. I miss her every day.” He flipped over to his photos and the one of her that he had by his bedside at home. She was beautiful, ethereal, like an angel with her long dark hair mussed around her face by the wind.
“Lo so.” I know.
Diego’s relationship with Luna had been distant and fractured, right up until that night one mid-October, when her beautiful soul had passed suddenly into the darkness, leaving Gio all alone with a father he didn’t know.
Someone knocked on the door. “Cugino, you up? Mamma has breakfast ready.”
Gio rolled his eyes. Dante sounded way too awake already. “I gotta go, Babbo. Love you.” He set down his phone and closed his eyes, trying to remember how his mother had smelled. Pink. Like roses.
“Gio, you okay in there?” Dante sounded a little annoyed.
“Yeah. Be right down.”
“Good. See you in the kitchen!” The man-boy’s steps echoed down the wooden stairs.
Ten minutes later, dressed and with his own dark hair combed into some semblance of order, he headed downstairs to find Dante and his sister Bianca wolfing down their meal.
“Morning, Gio.” Bianca was turning into a beautiful young woman, her dark hair tucked behind elfin ears. “How was night in the capra’s bedroom?”
Dante growled at her. “I’m not a goat.”
“Well, you smell like one.” She wrinkled her nose and winked at Gio.
“Bianca, be nice to your brother.” Valentina glared at her daughter over her stylish Italian lenses.
Gio grinned. “Not bad. That desk looks familiar.”
Zia Val nodded. “It used to be yours. Have a seat. I’ve put out some cornetti, yogurt, fragole, corn flakes and milk. Coffee?”
“Yes please.” Gio slid into the seat next to Dante. He took a sip of the coffee—it was rich and dark, full of hidden flavors. He poured himself some corn flakes and strawberries, but when he grabbed the milk, he frowned. It was warm. Well, lukewarm. He’d forgotten that particular Italian quirk. “Zia Valentina, do you have any cold milk?”
She tsk-tsked him. “Cold liquids will make you sick.” Nevertheless, she pulled a container of chilled milk from the fridge. “So you’re headed out again today?”
Gio nodded. “I’m going to see mamma.” She was buried in a cemetery just outside Bologna, about an hour and ten minutes north by car. Of course, they’d be going by car, then train, then bus, so it would be twice that long, with a twenty minute walk around the cemetery at the other end.
Dante stared at him. “I thought she was dead?”
“Danno!” His aunt slapped Dante upside the head. “Watch your manners.”
“Ow!” His shoulders slumped. “Sorry.”
Gio managed a weak smile. “It’s okay. Sometimes I forget too.” He poured the milk over his cereal and handed the container back to his zia. “Grazie mille.”
“Figurati. Then where?” She traded it for a cup of steaming coffee.
“I’ve made a list of places I want to visit. A few festivals, some famous restaurants, some cities known for one type of food or another. I’m looking for inspiration.” He bit into one of the cornetti. It was delicious. “Though maybe I should just stay here and learn from you. This is fantastic.”
His aunt blushed. “It’s nothing special.”
He finished it off in two more big bites. “No, seriously. You could sell these.”
“She does.” Bianca licked her own fingers clean. “Mamma makes them for the local bar.”
“Can I get the recipe?” His father would love them. They were filled with just the right amount of chocolate and sprinkled with cocoa and powdered sugar.
“Not even my children have my recipes. They’re locked in a safe until I die.” But he could tell from the way that she said it that she was flattered. “Where will you be staying?”
“In youth hostels, mostly. I have a list.” Diego had helped him fill out his itinerary. I’m lucky. Really.
“You’re very organized.” Bianca seemed to approve. “Unlike some people around here.”
“Hey!” Dante scowled at her.
“Hush, cucciolo.” Valentina kissed Dante on the head. “Gio, I have a gift for you, and a request.” She sat down at the head of the table and picked up a cornetto of her own.
“Of course. I’m indebted to you for letting me stay.” He barely knew Gio’s family. It’s time we rectify that.
“Che assurdità. You’re family. Of course you can always stay with us.” She set down the pastry. “I had Dante dig that out of storage.” She pointed to a bright orange backpack in the corner of the room. The oversized kind that backpackers wore.
Gio raised an eyebrow.
“It was your father’s. Far better for traveling the countryside than that heavy suitcase you brought. You can leave that here, and pick it up before you leave.”
Gio nodded. He’d had a hard time dragging his suitcase—even with the wheels—across the cobblestones in Rome and Bologna. And it meant he’d have to come back to see them again. Score one for Zia Valentina. “Grazie mille. And the request?”
She leaned forward and flashed him a charming smile. “Take Dante with you.”
He stared at her. Surely she didn’t just ask me to… “Cosa?”
“He’s just graduated from high school. Bianca is off to visit her friends in Sardinia, and my baby boy needs to see a little more of the world.” She put a warm hand on his, bright red nails resting threateningly on the soft skin of his wrist. “I would really appreciate it, tesoro.”
It was Gio’s turn to blush. How could he say no to her? She was family, after all. “I don’t know…” Dante was like an oversized, overeager puppy dog who wanted to be scratched all the time.
“Per favore, cugino? I’d love to spend time with you and hear all about America. You don’t think they’re going to re-elect that pallone arancione, do you?”
Santo cielo. If he’d been a practicing Catholic, he’d have crossed himself. “Of course not.” It might not be a bad thing to have someone at his side who knew Italy better than he did. He was a bit rusty after almost a decade away. And the look on Dante’s face… “I guess it couldn’t hurt—”
The words were cut off when his cousin threw his man-boy arms around him and squeezed the air out of him. “Che fantastico. I’m all packed and ready to go.”
“You are? That’s… great.” Gio was already regretting his decision.
Zia Valentina pulled an envelope out of her pocket and slid it over to him. “Here’s a little extra there, to help pay his way. If you need more, just text me.” She leaned over the table and kissed his cheek. “Cavolo, what a pleasure it will be to have a few days alone in an empty house.”
“What do you have planned?” Gio imagined she’d get a lot of laundry done.
“A few days in bed with that handsome butcher in town. What’s his name? Angelo?” She flashed him a wicked grin.
“Mamma!” Bianca looked scandalized.
“Eighteen years, taking care of you two. Mamma can take a week to herself.” She got up and kissed Bianca’s cheek. “Besides, you’ll both be too busy to think about poor old me.”
“Assolutamente!” Dante got up too and carried his dishes to the sink. “Hurry up, cugino, so we can get out of here. The world awaits the Bellei boys.”
Gio rolled his eyes. What have I gotten myself into?
< Read Chapter 42
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.