Tiramisu After Midnight

by Mark David Campbell

  “We’ve got to go. Lunch will be ready soon and you have to pack.” Enrico quickly pushed himself upright. “Bello, Americano.” He patted Owen’s cheek, jumped onto the seat and started the engine. The outboard roared, the bow lurched skyward, and they sped back toward the boathouse.

  This was not the first time Owen had fooled around with a guy and afterward the guy was cool and distant. Enrico was obviously not as into it as he was. Too bad, because he really liked him. But it was probably for the better. After all, he was leaving in a couple of hours and would never see Enrico again. At least he now had an adventure story of his own to share with Maggie.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  FABRIZIO SWAGGERED into the dining room to find Enrico setting out their grandmother’s china plates on the freshly pressed linen. He made a farty-sounding kiss on the back of Enrico’s neck and rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder

  Enrico swiveled around. “I asked Tata to make risotto with gorgonzola, and I’ve opened a bottle of Barbaresco,” he said. “I have to admit it, you were right. We just might be able to make this B&B work.”

  “Of course I was right. So, what’s with Grandmother’s good dishes?”

  “I just want to make their last lunch a little special.” Enrico curled his hands in against his chest as if to sign, why, what’s the problem?

  “You’ve got the hots for him, don’t you?”

  “No!” Enrico said.

  “Enrico’s got a crush on Owen.” Fabrizio sang out the words like a taunting schoolkid.

  “Shut up! Okay, maybe just a little. But it doesn’t matter because he’s leaving today.”

  “Well, he certainly likes you.” Fabrizio did a little dancing gesture, pointing his fingers at Enrico.

  “How do you know?” Enrico beamed and his dimples showed.

  “Because he told me so out on the boat.” Fabrizio patted his pockets and took out a pack of cigarettes.

  “He told you?” Enrico dropped one eyebrow.

  “Yeah. You were out running an errand for Tata, and he asked to go out in the boat one last time.” He flicked the pack twice and a cigarette popped out. “He thought I was you.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Well, he didn’t actually say anything.” Fabrizio pulled a cigarette out and placed it on his waiting lip. “His mouth was full at the time.” He bobbed his eyebrows.

  “What are you talking about?” Enrico’s tone became suspicious.

  “Well, it’s not like I encouraged him, but the next thing I knew, his hand was down the front of my Speedo. Hey, normally I don’t go for guys, but since he thought I was you, all I could do was play along.”

  “You had sex with him?”

  “He gave me a pompino out on the boat, That’s not the same as having sex with him.” Fabrizio held out his hand and wiggled his thumb signaling for a light. “Hey, but I could tell by the way he did it, he’s really hot for you!”

  “Ahh!” Enrico had that expression of disbelief on his face he always wore when Fabrizio had crossed the line. “Did Tata drop you on your head when we were babies?” Enrico clasped his face with his hands.

  “Come on, guys fool around together all the time. It’s not like I let him kiss me or anything.” The cigarette hung from Fabrizio’s lip.

  “I should have known,” Enrico growled and shook his head.

  “What’s the big deal?” Fabrizio had a blank expression on his face. “What about you and Luigi?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How’s that different?” Fabrizio said.

  “Because you’re my brother.” Enrico sneered.

  “And Maria is your friend.” Fabrizio held out his hands and shrugged. “I don’t see the difference.”

  “Look, there are some things we can’t share.”

  “But we share everything?” Fabrizio rolled his head. “Like, when I pulled Grazia. She said she wouldn’t mind if you wanted to give her a poke too.” Fabrizio held out his palms. “And it wouldn’t bother me, either. You know what they say, a boner makes his own friends.”

  “I don’t want to have sex with Grazia or any of your troiottole!” Enrico barked.

  “That’s because you like dick, not fica.” Fabrizio snorted out a laugh.

  “That’s because we’re not the same person!” Enrico jabbed his finger at Fabrizio. “I want something that’s my own!” Enrico stormed out of the room.

  The sun coming through the window cast a square patch of light onto the wooden floor in front of him. Fabrizio stood with the unlit cigarette stuck to his lower lip. It was as if something had just been severed from his heart. For the first time in his life, he felt alone, and it terrified him. “What did I do wrong? I was only trying to help,” he mumbled.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “WHERE ARE the guys? I thought they were going to join us,” Maggie said as Tata placed the plates of risotto al gorgonzola in front of them.

  “They said they had something to do, but you should start because your taxi will be here in an hour. Now eat before it gets cold.” Tata hurried off back into the kitchen.

  Maggie looked disappointed as she lifted her glass.

  “You heard what the lady said, eat!” Owen picked up his fork.

  “Okay, I can’t keep it a secret any longer.” Maggie put down her glass.

  “You’re holding out on me? We share all our secrets. How dare you!” Owen laughed. “Besides, I’ve got a secret of my own to share.”

  “No fair. Mine first. For once in my life I have a better story than you do.”

  “Oh, honey.” Owen patted the back of Maggie’s hand. “You could never have a better story than me.”

  “Oh yeah, take this!” Maggie said.

  “I love it when you talk tough to me. Spill, girl. Then I’ll follow up with mine and we’ll decide later who’s got the better tale to tell.”

  “Well, last night, just as I was ready to climb into bed, I heard a knock on my door. I thought it was you, so I answered the door wearing nothing but my new bra and panties.”

  “Oh, don’t stop. I’m getting all sweaty.” Owen fanned himself.

  Maggie swatted him. “Listen up, you fool. You’ll never guess who was standing there holding a plate of tiramisu.”

  “Tata?”

  “No!” Maggie looked around, then held her hand against her mouth as if she were about to reveal a great secret even though they were alone. “Fabrizio,” she whispered.

  Owen snickered. “And?”

  “And, I invited him in and well….”

  “No, no, girl! It’s too late to fade to black now. I want details.”

  “Well, let’s just say that we didn’t use a fork to eat our tiramisu.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” Owen reached over and put his arm around Maggie. “It’s about time you left the memories of high school in the dust and went back down on the pony.”

  “Isn’t it supposed to be, get back up on the pony?”

  “All depends on what you’re doing to him at the time. But enough about you and your midnight snack. I just licked the bowl clean myself, so to speak.”

  “No! When!”

  “This morning, out on the boat. I gave that Italian boy a tip I’m sure he won’t soon forget.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Okay, it’s confirmed. You’re a pig.”

  “Oh, look who’s talking. From what I heard coming through the bedroom wall last night you really do like tiramisu.”

  “Ahhh! You heard?”

  “Of course I heard!” Owen threw both hands up in the air. “Oh, Fabrizio,” he said in a mockingly effeminate voice. “I’m on a diet.”

  Maggie covered her face with her hands. “You definitely are the most horrible person I know.”

  “I know I am, but you love me just the same.” Owen pulled Maggie over and kissed her cheek.

  “Forget that I haven’t had sex in, like, forever. The problem is, I could really fall for Fabrizio. He’s kind and funny,
and most of all he makes me feel, well, beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful. But I know what you mean. I’m not the man you need to hear that from. Just be careful with your heartstrings; you know this is only the first stop on our vacation.”

  “I know. It’s so unfair. Why can’t I ever find a guy like him back home?”

  “Hey, look at that plastic club kid, Lane, or whatever his name was. Why can’t I find a real guy like Enrico?”

  “Of course, let’s not overlook the fact that Fabrizio is possibly the sexiest man I’ve ever seen much less been with,” Maggie continued as if she were not really listening to Owen.

  “How can you say Fabrizio is sexier than Enrico? They’re identical.”

  “They’re not identical. Fabrizio has that scar above his eyebrow that makes him look like a swordsman, like one of the three musketeers.”

  “What are you talking about? Enrico’s the one with the scar. I just noticed it this morning on the boat.” Owen paused. “Oh shit!” He slapped his head.

  “What?”

  “That explains why he wouldn’t kiss me.”

  Maggie turned white. “You didn’t?”

  “I think I did.”

  Maggie stood up and her serviette fell to the floor. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? My one big moment and it’s all about you again.” She turned. “I’m not hungry.”

  Owen stood up as Maggie walked out of the room. “I’m sorry,” he called after her. “I didn’t know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  FABRIZIO TROTTED up and opened the gate. The taxi rolled in and stopped at the front door. Owen handed his bag to the driver who loaded it into the trunk as Fabrizio came back down the drive.

  “Can I use the toilet?” the taxi driver said to Fabrizio.

  “Of course, just go in, first door on the left.” Fabrizio sauntered over to Owen. “Is Miss Maggie ready?”

  “She’s in the kitchen saying goodbye to Tata.”

  “I suppose she knows what happened?” Fabrizio said.

  “Yes. I accidently spilled the beans during lunch.”

  “I’m really sorry.” Fabrizio looked at Owen with an expression of genuine remorse.

  “You should have told me before I made a move.” Owen scowled.

  “I know. It happened so fast. I was only trying to help my brother out and things got a little out of hand. Are you angry at me?”

  “Well.” Owen smirked. “You’re not the first straight boy I’ve blown.” Owen shook his head. “But I really wish it had been Enrico and not you.”

  “I do too.” Fabrizio had a concerned expression. “Is Maggie angry at me?”

  “I think you could say she’s angry at you and disappointed with me.” Owen shoveled the gravel with his foot. “I suppose Enrico knows too?”

  “Oh yes. And he isn’t too happy with me, either.”

  “Why do I always end up with the wrong guy?” Owen said as if he were speaking to himself.

  “Ha,” Fabrizio scoffed. “Don’t ask me. I’m the world’s expert on doing things wrong.” Fabrizio scratched the back of his head. “Especially where my brother is concerned.”

  “Well, I guess what’s done is done,” Owen said with a tone of regret.

  “Wait.” Fabrizio darted up the steps and disappeared inside.

  Owen opened the rear door and threw his carry-on onto the seat, then stood there leaning on the open door, looking out toward the lake. Everything had been so perfect, except for one mistake—one big mistake!

  Fabrizio reappeared. “After you leave, please give her this and tell her how sorry I am.” He handed Owen a red paper bag that was taped closed.

  “What’s this?”

  “Oh, nothing, just a half kilo of cocaine,” Fabrizio said with a flat expression.

  Owen flinched.

  “Ahh, Americano,” Fabrizio jibed.

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Italiano. Why couldn’t you have been your brother?” Owen put out his hand to shake.

  “That would have been better for both of us.” Fabrizio ignored his hand, embraced him, and kissed him on either cheek.

  “It’s probably best you stay out of sight until we’re gone,” Owen said as Fabrizio released him.

  “I understand.” Fabrizio turned and started to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, thank you for the blow job.” He continued on, leaving Owen standing by the taxi shaking his head.

  “TATA, I just wanted to say thank you for everything.” Maggie was standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “Nothing, child.” Tata came over and embraced her. “I hope you will not forget us and come back and visit us again someday.”

  “Well, maybe.” Maggie looked down.

  Tata took her chin. “I don’t know any of the details, and I don’t want to, but I do know that when a man does something stupid, his dick is usually involved.”

  Maggie tried to force a smile and nodded.

  “Men!” Tata threw her hands up and blew out a puff of air. “They’re all little boys, really.” She patted Maggie’s cheek softly.

  “As you said, that’s why we love them, isn’t it?” Maggie said.

  “When you get home, find some man, make him a bowl of carbonara, and make love to him until he begs for mercy.” Tata blew her a kiss, turned, and opened the fridge.

  Maggie left the kitchen and climbed back up the stairs to get her carry-on.

  Coming out of the room, she jumped when she almost ran headlong into Enrico, who was standing in the doorway.

  “Please don’t hate my brother,” he said.

  “I don’t.” Maggie shook her head slowly. “I just wish things had turned out differently.”

  “So do I,” Enrico said softly. “Fabrizio has a heart of gold and would never hurt anyone deliberately. It’s just that he never thinks about consequences.” Enrico looked to the floor. “I guess it’s always been my job to protect him from himself.”

  “He’s lucky to have a brother like you.”

  “I hope he finds a woman almost as wonderful as you someday.”

  They embraced and kissed. Enrico bent over and picked up her bag, and Maggie followed him down the stairs and out to the taxi.

  Enrico held the gate open as the taxi drove up the lane. Owen’s face was pressed against his window, and as they passed, Enrico held up his hand and made a little sorrowful wave.

  They drove down the winding lakeside road and through the gallery to Laveno. Two minutes later, as the taxi slowed for the curve past the Bar Milano, Owen sat up and turned to Maggie. “Here.” He handed her the red paper bag. “Fabrizio wanted you to have this.”

  Maggie examined the bag, rolling it over in her hands.

  “Well, are you going to open it?”

  Maggie looked back at Owen and smiled sardonically. “Not right now.” She held out her hand to Owen. “Here.”

  Owen held out his hand. “What is it?”

  “Enrico wanted you to have this.” Maggie dropped something into Owen’s palm that felt like a stone.

  Owen looked down at a tiny lump of colored glass. “Oh shit!” He closed his hand tightly around it.

  Maggie was silent for a moment. “It wasn’t really your fault, you know. They do look almost identical.”

  Owen breathed in deeply. “Listen, if it’s any condolence, Fabrizio didn’t intend it to go that far, either. I kind of pounced on him.”

  “I don’t know why you feel the need to defend him. He acted like an idiot.”

  “I know, but I guess in his own stupid way, he just wanted me and Enrico to get together.”

  “Well, it’s not the end of the world, and I’m certainly not going to let one blow job ruin my trip. So let’s just drop the whole incident,” Maggie said with a definitive tone.

  They bounced over the railway, leaving Laveno and Lago Maggiore behind as they drove down the provincial road toward the highway and Milan.

  An hour after they had boarded the train to Venice, Owen fell asleep. Mag
gie stared out the window and watched the flat plane of the Po River Valley as they raced by. She reached down to her pack at her feet and took out the red paper bag. Inside was a small worn cookbook titled La Cuccina Italiana. She opened it. A note was written on the front page.

  Dear Miss Maggie,

  Whenever I eat tiramisu I will think of you.

  I’m so sorry for what happened.

  Forever, Fabrizio

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Last night had truly been magic. She clutched the book to her chest. Why did he have to spoil it?

  PART THREE

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “HEY! WE have our first review on Trip Advisor,” Fabrizio called out to Enrico, who was lying on the bed reading.

  Enrico flopped his book down on his lap. “I’m afraid to know what they wrote after the fiasco.”

  “Do you want me to read it or not?”

  “Go ahead,” Enrico moaned.

  “Okay, here goes.”

  On my recent trip to Italy I went shopping for shoes in Milan, floated down the canals of Venice in a gondola, rode a horse-drawn carriage around the coliseum in Rome, marveled at a 30-foot marble statue of a 400-year old boy and was serenaded by a mandolin in Napoli. The hotels, food, and wine and sites were marvelous.

  “Good, there’s nothing about us,” Enrico said.

  “Hold on a minute.” Fabrizio continued to read.

  All the same, the whole flight home all I could think about was Lago B&B (even if it didn’t quite match its description or the photos on the website). The house is a gorgeous but somewhat dilapidated, eighteenth-century villa set on a hill overlooking Lago Maggiore. I had a room in the tower with a view of the lake and mountains that fulfilled all my fantasies about a room with a view. Tata, the best cook I’ve ever met, taught me to make pasta that is guaranteed to turn any man into my slave. Most of all, the twins with their hospitality, humor, and sincere desire to please, introduced me to an Italy that I didn’t know existed and made me feel like I had found some place truly special.