Passports and Plum Blossoms

by Barbara Oliverio

  “Let’s go, then,” I tucked my phone into my bag and jumped out of the jeep.

  I knew that Ghirardelli Square was a revamped industrial site, but I wasn’t aware that it was the first such project in the United States. It takes up an entire city block and is filled with shops and restaurants.

  We took a brochure from the information desk and began to casually stroll through the area, stopping every now and then to duck into a shop that caught our fancy. Finally, we reached the flagship shop, the Ghirardelli Chocolate Shop.

  “If we’re going to have an early dinner, do we really want to have sundaes?” I wondered aloud, but quickly amended my statement. “What am I saying! We’re on vacation. This isn’t a rehearsal for being in San Francisco—it’s actually being here.”

  “Hey! I like that!” Breck smiled. “I’m going to adopt that as my personal motto.”

  “Feel free,” I said. “You’ll have to give credit to Auntie Lil, though. She’s the one who taught it to me.”

  He turned and looped an arm through Auntie Lil’s on one side and mine on the other as we entered the shop with a purpose.

  “Onward!”

  We managed to keep ourselves to one banana split to share, and we were truly enjoying it when my phone rang insistently. I saw that it was Rory and sighed. I guessed I needed to fill her in on what was going on before she sent a detective to spy on us.

  “Hey, Rory,” I said as I walked away from the table, leaving Auntie Lil and Breck in a spirited discussion of Gonzaga basketball.

  “So spill the beans on what is going on.”

  “I’m not sure what was going on with the plane or why we needed to leave it, but we needed to wait for another one. I, for one, am happy they would rather be safe about the situation. Very prudent, if you ask me.”

  “And ...?”

  “And? Oh ...” I continued, knowing that Rory wasn’t really interested in the aviation particulars. “They gave us each restaurant vouchers. Very generous.”

  “Restaurant vouchers. Very nice. And ...?” Her impatience was beginning to bubble up.

  “And what, Rory?”

  “Ooooh. You know, you are very lucky I’m not there to punch you. You are so exasperating. You know I want to know about the hunky tour guide. How on earth did THAT happen?”

  I burst into laughter and told her the story of how we met Breck’s sister and what followed.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow? That’s all you got?” My forehead wrinkled.

  “Well, I think it’s definitely a ‘meet cute’ kind of situation worthy of a Sunday afternoon movie. I’m thinking it through, that’s all. If he’s in San Francisco, that’s not really that far from Denver, and—”

  “And nothing, Rory. You know as well as I do that long distance doesn’t work. Besides, since when have you treated life like a bad Reese Witherspoon movie?”

  “Just giving you grief, my dear,” she said, and I knew she sported an impish grin on her face whether I could see her or not. “Relax. This just sounds like a fun afternoon spent with a definitely adorable guy. We don’t need to shop for china patterns just yet.”

  “Exactly. Besides he couldn’t be less my type.”

  “Explain, please.”

  “First of all, outdoorsy.”

  “Ha! What do you mean ‘first of all’? With you, I would think that is the number one deal breaker.”

  Hmph. To hear her comments and Auntie Lil’s, you’d think I never ventured forth from my house unless I was shaded by giant umbrellas and carried to my luxury automobile.

  “Annalise? Are you still there? Say something.”

  “Am I really that princess-like?” I asked, fearful of the answer that my straightforward friend would provide.

  She laughed heartily.

  “No, you goof, but it’s just fun to tease you about it. Heavens, you know my idea of a good time certainly isn’t climbing Pikes Peak.”

  “But you ski and snowboard. And I sit in the lodge and read and wait by the warm fire.”

  “So? Everyone’s different. Besides, I don’t LIVE to ski and snowboard like some of our friends.”

  “You’re right,” I offered. “In any case, along with being so outdoorsy, this guy seems kind of aimless in that skater boy kind of way.”

  “Didn’t you tell me he had a job as a web designer?”

  “Oh, Rory, you know high-tech job descriptions. That could be anything.”

  “Okay, but I still haven’t heard anything to rule him out, again other than geography.”

  I felt that the conversation was getting too intense, so I needed to draw it back a little.

  “Well, Rory, he’d be perfect, but you know I just couldn’t be with a ... redhead!”

  “Why I oughtta ...!” she laughed, and I pictured her ruffling her own red curls. You’d be lucky to have an adorable ginger-haired man.”

  We laughed together.

  “Oh Rory, I wish you were on this trip.”

  “I know. But I know Auntie Lil is a hoot and a great traveling companion.”

  “Definitely. And remember, this trip isn’t about finding romance for me. It’s about keeping her company.”

  “Sure, sure, but a little romance on the side couldn’t hurt, whether it’s a tall redhead or some other man.”

  “Rory! No redheads, blonds, or even brunets!”

  But after we finished our call, my mind flashed to the handsome, dark-haired stranger I’d encountered in the bookstore. I shook my head as I returned to the table. Thanks a lot, Rory, for putting ridiculous romantic thoughts into my head.

  “How is the irrepressible Rory?” asked Auntie Lil as I slid back into our booth.

  “Fine, fine,” I replied absently, noting that our communal banana split dish was scraped clean. Oh well. You snooze you lose, as my brother would say.

  “You should meet Annalise’s friend,” Auntie Lil said to Breck. “The most adorable girl. Very energetic. Say ... her hair is a perfect color match for yours!”

  “Really?” he drawled as he leaned back in his seat. “I like her already.”

  Hey! Wait a minute! Rory wasn’t even here, and already I felt in danger of losing a guy to her. How many times in college when we were out did guys chat me up just to get to her? Or, when we were together, how often was I in a conversation with a promising candidate only to notice that his eye was focused somewhere over my shoulder in her vicinity?

  Oh, Annalise, I chuckled to myself finally. Rory was never the type to steal a boyfriend. And besides, I had no claim on Ponytail Pete here other than as a tour guide. I really did have to work on my habit of overthinking things!

  “Well, you would. Everyone does. The bigger question is whether she would like YOU.” I hid a smile.

  “Ouch!”

  Gotcha! Take that, ego!

  “Of course she would like him, Annalise! He’s adorable,” put in Auntie Lil.

  Breck grinned and put his arm around her.

  Thanks a lot, Auntie. Humph. Wasn’t it time to shift the conversation?

  “Annnnyway ...” I started, “enough chitchat about a nonexistent meeting! What’s next on our agenda? We only have so much time before we have to get back to the airport, remember?”

  “You’re right, kiddo.” Breck ushered us out of the booth.

  “Let’s find a cable car to ride,” suggested Auntie Lil.

  “We can actually leave the car parked where it is and walk a few blocks to do that,” Breck nodded.

  When we left the shop, the weather was breezy and bright. Just the right atmosphere for a stroll on the streets of San Francisco. As we reach the nearest cable car stop, a car was arriving, and we hopped on. It was nearly full, so we opted to stand and lean out the window as it continued on its route.

  When the iconic bell rang, Auntie Lil grinned like a kindergartener, and I knew what was coming next.

  “Here it comes,” I nudged Breck.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Wait and se
e.” I inclined my head toward my sassy aunt a split second before her crystal-clear voice began:

  “I left my hearrrrt ... in San Frannnn-cisco!”

  I knew it! She would never have been able to resist singing the unofficial anthem of the city by the bay! I looked around at the other passengers as she continued. Some pretended to ignore her, but a good portion of them listened with smiles on their faces or even joined in. I turned to Breck, who was belting out the song!

  I took a second to take a mental snapshot of the moment. My aunt had a way of making the ordinary so very extraordinary. She’s the most amazing woman, and I am so blessed that I had the opportunity to join her on this trip! Breck caught my eye and leaned over.

  “Hey! Why aren’t you singing? Don’t you know the song?”

  “Of course!” I joined in.

  By the time we finished the tune, all the passengers were laughing and singing. Folks waved and nodded as they exited. Since we were going round-trip, we met an entirely new group of people on the way back to Fisherman’s Wharf.

  At our stop, we hopped off and jauntily returned to Breck’s jeep.

  “So, ladies,” Breck said as he checked his watch, “early dinner?”

  “I know we just had ice cream, but dinner sounds fabulous!” Auntie Lil agreed.

  I checked the address for the recommended restaurant, and we were on our way.

  Chapter Eleven

  We left Breck’s car with the valet and pushed open the heavy oak doors to the quaint eatery located on a quiet side street. Immediately, we felt as if we had entered a rustic Tuscan farmhouse kitchen. Small tables were grouped with mismatched chairs. Wonderful smells wafted toward us as we neared the hostess stand.

  “Reservations?” asked the pert hostess.

  “We don’t have reservations, but can you fit us in?” Breck asked with a charming smile.

  “Hmm.” The hostess wrinkled her forehead slightly. “I’m not sure ...”

  “We were hoping to get in. Sarah at the airline recommended you highly. She said this was a sister restaurant to one we have in Denver and has the best tiramisu.” I pulled out our restaurant voucher and pointed out the handwritten note on the back.

  The hostess smiled.

  “You’re from Denver? The original Nonna’s restaurant is there! Have you eaten there?”

  I debated on fudging the truth, but I knew that ethically that was so wrong.

  “Not yet. But we’re looking forward to going there when we get back!”

  The hostess burst into laughter. She grabbed three menus.

  “Follow me. There’s a corner that might be right. It’s a small table for two, but we’ll make it work.”

  Almost as swiftly as we were seated, our server appeared.

  “Welcome to Nonna’s. I’m Gina. Let me tell you our specials.”

  We soon ordered our food and beverages and were enjoying the crusty bread and olive oil that the server had placed before us.

  “I can’t tell you how much we’ve appreciated your time today,” Auntie Lil said to Breck.

  “It really was my pleasure. I am always happy to share my adopted city.”

  “You told us you are a web designer, but you didn’t really explain your job,” continued Auntie Lil. “If you are a designer, are you an artist?”

  “Not at all, although Maggie and I do have a baby sister who is a painter who I occasionally consult with on the artistic side of my job. I am on the back end of the operation, the end that programs how the website interacts with the world.”

  “This was something you studied at Gonzaga?”

  “I double-majored in computer science and in web design specializing in e-commerce, then did an internship at a web design firm.”

  So it seemed that this shaggy-looking fellow was rather well educated! From his devil-may-care attitude, I would have taken him for a typical high-tech cowboy: all flash and no substance. I guess there’s a reason that people say not to judge a book by its cover.

  He turned to me.

  “What is your line of work—that is, when you aren’t jet-setting?”

  “I’m hardly a jet-setter!” I said. “Up until a few months ago, I was a marketing manager—for a technology company, as a matter of fact—until they decided to outsource.”

  “Ah, victim of a RIF?” he nodded knowingly, using the abbreviation for “reduction in force,” a common term for “layoff.”

  “Exactly. You know that marketing is the first to go in high tech. And while I’ve been job hunting, I have been waiting tables and doing other odd jobs.”

  “My Annalise is a very resourceful gal,” Auntie Lil gave me a hug.

  “Are you looking to get back into high-tech marketing?” Breck asked.

  I paused. The answer should have been an easy “yes,” but I wasn’t so sure. I loved my last job, but did I love it because of the job or because of the company? Sure I was let go, but that was a business decision from the parent corporation. Our small company was a tight-knit organization, and I had really believed in the software that we produced. Would I feel the same way about another company and its products?

  The company where I had most recently interviewed and lost the position to my former boyfriend’s bride was an example of that. They were a good organization, well respected in the industry, and the salary they had offered was enticing. I didn’t feel, however, that their products were necessarily the best in their market. I wasn’t sure I could promote a product that I didn’t personally believe in.

  “Hmm,” I finally said. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  I looked over at this near stranger. A naturally reticent person, I wasn’t sure I needed to open up to someone I had just met hours earlier. But his bright-green eyes and upturned, freckle-sprinkled nose gave him the air of someone who could be trusted. He munched patiently on a crust of bread as he waited for my answer.

  “Well ... I feel strongly about not promoting products that I don’t personally believe in. Does that make sense?”

  “Totally,” he nodded. “When I was given the choice of internships, I could have done one with a huge, prestigious company or a smaller one. The smaller one was more in line with my ... moral compass, let’s say, so it was an easy choice. And the company I work for now is the same way.”

  “Your parents must be proud,” Auntie Lil said.

  He grinned “Well, I have to admit that they had their doubts at times that I’d settle down from my skater boy ways, but I’ve never strayed too far from the path they encouraged.”

  “I imagine your sister is proud as well,” Auntie Lil continued.

  “My sister the Sister? Well, she’s my hero. Of all my siblings, I feel closest to Maggie. If I could find a woman as cool as she is, I’d marry her in a minute.”

  “Marriage! I can’t believe someone who gives off the air of bachelorhood like you do thinks about marriage!” I laughed.

  “Well ...” he drawled, “it would take a rare woman to catch me. And I am a catch, you have to admit.”

  We all laughed as he flexed his biceps.

  Our server returned to our table at that moment with our mouthwatering meals, and we prepared to enjoy our dinner.

  I glanced at Breck as he and Auntie Lil debated the merits of his linguine in clam sauce versus her penne arrabbiata. Instinctively I knew he was a catch. For me? No. But he would make some woman a good husband. I could only pray that I would find my version of this charming man.

  Leaning back as our plates were cleared from the table, we deliberated about dessert. Gina resolved the discussion handily.

  “The tiramisu is awesome. You folks should definitely have it.”

  “Tiramisu all around, then,” nodded Auntie Lil. “No diets on vacation!”

  “You ladies don’t need to worry about dieting, surely!” said Breck.

  “Well, aren’t you a flatterer,” said Auntie Lil, whose figure, like mine, leaned toward the curvy side.

  “No,”
he shook his head, “just telling the truth.”

  “I believe in all things in moderation and treats when necessary,” he continued as three delicious slices of dessert appeared at our table. “And this tiramisu looks absolutely necessary.”

  We wasted no time in devouring the creamy confection, then enjoyed a leisurely coffee before departing the restaurant.

  Hopping into Breck’s jeep, we headed toward the airport. My phone rang insistently. This time it was my father.

  “Annalise, are you in the air yet?”

  “On the way to the airport, Pop. And if we were in the air, I couldn’t answer the phone, don’t you think?”

  My usually logical father ignored my correction of his nonsensical question.

  “Well, you call me when you are on the plane. How is your aunt? What have you been doing? Have you eaten?”

  “Pop, Pop,” I laughed. “We’re fine. We have eaten—a lot, as a matter of fact. We actually ate a very nice Italian meal.”

  “And the boy who has been your guide?”

  “Not a boy, Pop,” I sighed.

  Auntie Lil reached back to grab my phone.

  “Samuel Joseph,” she said in her best eldest sister voice, “we are both fine. We’re eating. Our tour guide is a delightful young man, just as we predicted. He is a Gonzaga graduate. He has neither stolen our wallets nor taken us against our will to some sort of pyramid scheme presentation. Now, please give both of us credit. We will phone you when we are on the airplane.”

  She punched the “off” button and handed it back to me decisively.

  “Oh sure,” I tilted my head and smirked, “he’ll listen to you.”

  “I doubt that he listened. As a matter of fact, I’m sure he’s sputtering on the other end right now. I simply refused to continue the conversation, and he knows better than to attempt to revive it. Now, Breck, did you say we had time to drive toward the bridge?”

  “I’m afraid to say no!” he grinned. “We’ll take a slight detour that will get you a view of the bridge and then get you to the airport about five minutes before the time I promised.”

  And he did.

  As he dropped us at the curb—we had insisted that he not take more time out of his day to park and escort us inside—we exchanged hugs, phone numbers, and all other contact information.