Home to Italy

by Peter Pezzelli

  “You had to see it,” Luca began. “The group let Andrea pedal up ahead so that he could stop and say hello to all his family and friends who had come out to watch him race. They do the same thing sometimes in the Tour when the race goes through a rider’s home town. But what’s different about the Giro is that this time all the riders ended up stopping, not just Andrea, because Filomena and some of the other women had baked a load of pastries for them. It was incredible: almost two hundred guys on bicycles pull over and start gobbling down all the sweets they can get their hands on. Even the guys on the motorcycles and the race commissars grabbed a couple! Then one of the racers pedals off with a tray of cannoli and starts serving them to the other riders as they went along. It was great! You just don’t see that sort of thing in any other race—only the Giro.”

  The four of them continued their walk until they came to the edge of the piazza. Just across from it was a little park where they sat down on the edge of one of the fountains. Peppi leaned over and smiled when he saw the brightly colored fish swimming about in the pools. Lucrezia turned in time to see the smile on his face.

  “What is it?” she said, looking with him into the pool.

  “I was just remembering when I was a little boy,” said Peppi. “My parents used to bring me here sometimes and I would always get soaking wet trying to reach in and catch the fish.”

  “How sweet,” said Lucrezia, still gazing into the pool. “You must have been so cute.”

  Peppi made no reply, but simply smiled and stared with her at the tranquil water.

  Filomena, meantime, jumped up, took Luca by the arm, and tugged him away from the fountain.

  “What are you doing, amore mia?” he said to his wife as she made him walk with her down the path by the other fountains in the park.

  Filomena looked back over her shoulder to see if Lucrezia and Peppi had even noticed that they had left. “I’m doing whatever it takes,” she said firmly. Then she smiled, coiled her arm around Luca’s, and the two walked on together.

  Left to themselves, Lucrezia and Peppi sat by the fountain chatting about the day’s adventures. It was a good long while before either noticed that Filomena and Luca had disappeared. Peppi finally turned and looked about to see where they might have gone to.

  “I wonder where your parents are?” he said.

  “Don’t worry about those two,” said Lucrezia, “I’m sure they haven’t wandered far.”

  She regarded Peppi for a moment before reaching out to touch him lightly on the elbow. “How is your arm feeling, by the way?” she asked, sounding concerned. “That was a nasty fall you took today.”

  “It’s a little sore,” Peppi admitted, flexing his arm, “but not too bad. Thankfully I received some very good medical attention after I made it to the top of the mountain. You would have made a very good nurse,” he added.

  “A nurse?” Lucrezia replied, feigning indignation. “Why not a doctor? Are you a chauvinist?”

  “Oh no, never,” said Peppi. “It’s just that—”

  “Just what?” said Lucrezia. She looked quite pleased with herself for having made him squirm a bit.

  Peppi caught the mischievous gleam in her eye. “Doctor or nurse, you would get along very well in America,” he said with a chuckle. “Over there the women don’t let men get away with anything either.”

  “And why should they?” she replied smugly.

  Peppi could only offer a shrug in response. Lucrezia gave him a nudge to show that she was just teasing him, and they both laughed.

  “So tell me,” she asked, “do you miss America?”

  “Sometimes,” Peppi answered. “I lived there most of my life, so I left a lot of myself behind, if you know what I mean.”

  Lucrezia leaned forward and rested her chin upon her hand. “I would like to visit America someday,” she said. “Do you think you would ever go back?”

  “To live? No,” said Peppi, shaking his head, “I don’t think so.”

  “How about just to visit?”

  “Eh, who knows?” he shrugged. “I doubt it, but then again it wasn’t so long ago that I would never have imagined coming back here. But for the moment, I’m very happy right where I am.”

  “So am I,” she said.

  Lucrezia looked out to the other side of the park where a pair of young lovers had just sat down together on a bench. The two, she saw, were off together in a blissful world of their own and before long their arms were entwined in an impassioned embrace. It was a tender scene that stirred something within Lucrezia, an old yearning that she knew still lived in her despite her best attempts to push it from her consciousness. She let slip a sigh and looked back at Peppi. By now, he too had taken notice of the couple. As he watched them, Lucrezia let her eyes study the rugged profile of his face. Just then Peppi broke out in a smile and his eyes became aglow with a merriment that she had never seen in them before. There was something irresistible about it and she found herself smiling too.

  “What is it?” she asked him. “What’s so funny?”

  “Those two over there should be more careful,” Peppi said, nodding at the couple, who at this point were kissing each other quite dramatically. “The way things are going they might both wind up needing dental work.”

  “Hey, sometimes love hurts,” joked Lucrezia.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” laughed Peppi, “but they say it’s still worth it.”

  As he said this, Peppi turned back to face her and for the first time the two gazed directly at one another.

  “So they say,” said Lucrezia, her eyes meeting his.

  Peppi returned her gaze, unsure of what it was he saw in her eyes—and of what she saw in his. Lucrezia lifted her hand and, for a hypnotic moment, he was certain that she was going to touch his face. The moment passed quickly, though, and Lucrezia came back to herself. Looking a bit flustered, she stood and gave his shirtsleeve a tug.

  “Come on,” she said, “let’s go find my parents before they get lost somewhere.”

  As Peppi stood he saw a brilliant full moon rising over the mountains in the distance. At the sight of it he gave a sigh of his own. “Che bella notte,” he said. “What a beautiful night.”

  “Yes, it truly is,” said Lucrezia.

  Peppi smiled and gave her a nod. He let her slip her arm through his and together the two strolled off into the moonlight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  One day, after the three frenzied weeks of the Giro had passed and June’s warm weather had settled in to stay, a letter came to the post office in the village addressed to:

  Signor Peppi

  Il Mulino

  Villa San Giuseppe

  By this time the men in the local post office knew that Peppi was the American who lived in the apartment above Luca’s factory; they tucked the letter in with the bundle of business correspondence that would be delivered to the factory later that morning.

  Peppi was out back working in the gardens when Lucrezia came out with the letter.

  “Peppi, you have some mail,” she called.

  At hearing her approach, Peppi stood and brushed the dirt off his hands and knees. “From America?” he said, wiping his hands on his trousers.

  “No, Pescara.”

  “Pescara?” said Peppi. “Who’s sending me letters from Pescara?”

  “Open it and see.”

  “Please, you do it for me,” said Peppi. “My hands are a mess right now.”

  Lucrezia opened the envelope, pulled out the engraved card inside, and began to read. “It’s a wedding invitation,” she announced.

  “To whose wedding?” asked Peppi, now totally perplexed.

  “Let’s see…two people named Loredana and Claudio.”

  Peppi scratched his head, repeating the names to himself. Then he suddenly remembered. “Of course, Loredana and Claudio!” he exclaimed. “Now I remember. Who would have thought?”

  “Who are they?” asked Lucrezia.

  “Two young friend
s of mine. I met them on the train,” said Peppi. “When are they getting married?”

  “In three weeks.”

  “And they want me to come,” mused Peppi. “That’s nice of them to invite me. But my word, they only just met this past winter.”

  “Remember, this is Italy, Peppi,” said Lucrezia, looking over the invitation. “Things happen fast when people fall in love here.”

  Peppi nodded. “I guess so.”

  Lucrezia tucked the invitation back into the envelope and handed it to Peppi. “So, will you go?” she asked. “The shore at Pescara is beautiful this time of year.”

  Peppi shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “But why not?”

  Peppi walked over to the bench beneath the arbor and sat down. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Anna and I were married in June. Our anniversary is coming up soon.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Lucrezia. She walked up beside him. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the bench.

  “Of course,” said Peppi, dusting the spot off for her.

  Lucrezia sat next to him and gazed past him into the distance for a time without speaking. In her eyes Peppi could see the colorful reflection of the flower beds behind him.

  “Francesco and I were married in July,” Lucrezia said wistfully. “Don’t ask me why we waited till the middle of the summer. Even now I don’t know why. Mannagia, it was so hot that day! Our anniversary will be coming up soon too.”

  “Should I start to measure the window panes again?” asked Peppi.

  “No, you don’t have to worry about the windows,” replied Lucrezia, swatting him on the arm with the back of her hand. “But I think you should go to the wedding. It would be good for you.”

  “I don’t know,” said Peppi, “I’m not sure if I’m ready yet for that sort of thing again. And don’t forget, I don’t even have a car to drive there. Besides, I’d feel funny going all alone even if I did.”

  “Hmm,” sighed Lucrezia. “I know what you mean.”

  Peppi stared at the envelope. “Then again, maybe I should go,” he said thoughtfully. “I haven’t been to mass since Anna’s funeral. It’s probably time I went.”

  “Weddings and funerals are the only times I go to church these days,” said Lucrezia.

  Peppi nodded to show he understood. Patting her shoulder, he stood and tucked the invitation into his back pocket. Then he walked away toward the flower beds.

  “So, what are you going to do?” said Lucrezia.

  “Well, for now I’m going to finish weeding the garden,” he replied. “Then I’m going to take a nap. I’ll worry about the wedding later on.”

  That evening after dinner, Peppi walked up to Luca’s house to watch the news, something he liked to do once or twice a week. In truth, Luca and Filomena would have welcomed him every night if he wanted to come, but Peppi didn’t like to intrude too much. As he strolled up the path, it occurred to him that in addition to going back to church on a more regular basis, it was probably about time he bought himself a television for the apartment. He made a mental note to look into it soon.

  When Peppi came in, Luca and Filomena were in the living room. Filomena was just turning the television on while Luca read the newspaper. He looked up from his reading and gave Peppi a nod.

  “Any good news?” said Peppi.

  “None in here,” Luca replied, tossing the paper aside in favor of La Gazzetta dello Sport. “But sit and watch. Maybe they’ll tell us about something worth listening to on the television.”

  “We can only hope,” said Peppi.

  “Ciao, Peppi,” said Filomena, taking a seat on the sofa. “It’s a warm night. Would you like a beer or glass of wine?”

  “No, thank you, Filomena. I’m fine.”

  “Didn’t see much of you today, Peppi,” said Luca from behind the sporting news. “What were you up to today?”

  “Shh!” shushed Filomena. “I’m trying to hear the news.”

  “I was around, doing a little gardening this morning,” Peppi said softly in reply to Luca’s question. “Got some mail today that surprised me.”

  “A letter from America?” said Luca aloud.

  “Hey, do you mind? I’m trying to listen,” said Filomena, flinging a sofa cushion at her husband. “Sta zita!”

  Peppi stood and moved his chair closer to Luca so that they might talk more quietly. “No, it was a wedding invitation from Pescara,” he whispered.

  “A wedding invitation?” said Filomena, suddenly turning away from the television. “Who from?”

  “Would you mind not speaking so loudly?” said Luca. “I’m trying to read the sporting news.”

  “Watch yourself, Signore,” his wife said menacingly before turning her attention back to Peppi. “Who do you know in Pescara, Peppi?”

  Peppi told them the story of how he had met Loredana and Claudio on the train from Rome. It was a nice memory and he laughed after telling them the story, for he never would have dreamed that the two would end up married.

  “Well, it was nice of them to invite you to the wedding,” said Filomena when he had finished. “Will you go?”

  “No,” Peppi explained. “I don’t think so. It’s a long way and I really don’t feel like going alone to something like that anyway.”

  “Who says you have to go alone?” she replied. “Did the invitation say only you were invited?”

  “Well, now that you mention it,” said Peppi, “the card inside did say Signor Peppi and guest.”

  “There!” said Filomena, slapping her hand down on the table. “I told you, you don’t have to go alone. Take somebody with you. It will be good for you.”

  “Who on earth around here would want to go to a wedding in Pescara with me?” said Peppi, grinning.

  “Don’t even look at me,” said Luca from behind La Gazzetta.

  “Who’s asking you?” said Filomena. “Now, don’t you worry about it, Peppi. Lucrezia will go with you.”

  Peppi squirmed uneasily in the chair. “Oh, but I really don’t think…” Peppi began to say, but just then the door opened and Lucrezia herself came in carrying her usual load of paperwork from the office.

  “Here she is now,” said Filomena. “Lucrezia, come in here.”

  Lucrezia dumped her work on the kitchen counter and came into the living room.

  “Ciao, Peppi,” she said at seeing him.

  “Lucrezia,” her mother began, “Peppi has been invited to a wedding.”

  “I know,” Lucrezia replied.

  “You do? Well, good, because I told Peppi that you would go with him.”

  Lucrezia shot a look at her mother that would have stopped a rhinoceros. She folded her arms and tapped her foot. Peppi was certain that hostilities were about to commence.

  “Don’t worry,” Peppi told her. “You don’t have to come. I knew you wouldn’t want to. Please, don’t give it another thought.”

  “Of course she wants to go,” said Filomena before her daughter had a chance to open her mouth.

  To Peppi’s surprise, Lucrezia’s scowl turned into a small but detectable grin. “I’ll tell you what,” she said in the tone of voice she might use when negotiating a new sales agreement or perhaps trying to finagle a better price from a vendor, “I’ll go with you to the wedding, but under one condition.”

  “Which is?” said Peppi.

  “You have to let me help you buy some new clothes,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I refuse to go anywhere with you unless you get a new suit and definitely some new shoes.”

  “She’s right,” said Luca, lowering the sports page for only a moment. “I didn’t want to say it, but I can’t believe the things they let you Americans walk around wearing. It’s appalling.”

  “You know, you’re not the first person in Italy to tell me that,” sighed Peppi.

  “Then we have a deal?” said Lucrezia.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, not really,” said Lucre
zia playfully. “Not if you want a ride to Pescara.” Then she turned and sashayed out of the room.

  “Looks like you have a date,” said Luca. “I hope your intentions are honorable. I don’t want any mischief.”

  “Well, I’ll be taking her to church,” laughed Peppi. “I don’t think we can get into too much mischief there.”

  No, thought Filomena, but it’s a start.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The morning of the wedding, Peppi arose early. The ceremony was to take place at noon, so Lucrezia had made him promise to be ready by nine-thirty to give them plenty of time to make the drive to Pescara. By Peppi’s reckoning, especially taking into account the way that Lucrezia liked to drive, that would get them to the church a half hour or so early. He would have preferred to arrive just on time, but he supposed it was better to give themselves a little cushion.

  Peppi went into the kitchen and made himself some coffee. As he sat at the table with his cup, he nibbled a biscotti while he looked over at the new suit hanging on the bedroom door. Below on the floor sat the box containing his new shoes. The new shirt and tie were already laid out on the bed.

  Though he preferred to live simply, Peppi was quite secure financially. Just the same, he let out a sigh at the thought of the money he had spent on the clothes. Lucrezia had taken him to Michele’s, the only men’s clothing shop in Villa San Giuseppe. The fact that the shop was located in a little out-of-the-way town high in the Abruzzi mountains made it no less expensive. The prices rivalled anything Peppi might have found in Milan. When they walked in together, Lucrezia had beckoned for the owner.

  “Michele,” she had announced with great solemnity, “in three weeks I must accompany this man to a wedding in Pescara. I don’t wish to be embarrassed, so per favore, do something with him!”

  “Si, subito, Signorina!” said Michele with a quick bow of his head. He turned to Peppi, narrowed his gaze, and looked him up and down like a sculptor inspecting a fresh, unchiseled piece of marble for the first time. He frowned at what he saw, particularly Peppi’s shoes. “Turn, please,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.