Hunting Truffles
Page 19
Then he stacked his own plates and headed for the kitchen.
Chapter 66
Heading Home to Sinalunga
Paolo was packing his bags the next morning, gathering his belongings on the bed in Rita's house where he had stayed the last two weeks. He opened the door to find Nicki and his aunt just as she was raising her hand to knock.
With a shared laugh, she lowered her hand and smiled at Paolo.
“So, you're leaving,” said Nicki.
“Si, but I will return many times.”
Hugs with each of the women were followed by instructions from Rita.
“You sound like mama,” Paolo kidded her and, with that, the normally strong and purposeful Rita began to cry. She didn't have children and Paolo was too old to fill that role anyway, but he had been in her charge and she had come to treat him as the closest of family.
Stefano drove him to the train station and hugged him for a long moment before departure. Paolo stepped back, thanked Stefano for all he had learned, and promised that he would not soon forget the wines and food of the Piemontese.
“How could you forget!” was the proud response.
At the other end of the train ride, Paolo disembarked onto the platform. He stood there alone, for he decided not to alert his parents of his return trip. He gazed at the familiar surroundings at the Arezzo station, then picked up his bag and caught a bus that would take him to Sinalunga.
The bus ride dropped him off two miles from the farm, but Paolo was still reluctant to break the quiet of his return, so he hitched a ride from an old man driving a farm truck in the direction of the dell'Uco farm.
Jumping down from the truck at the end of his own driveway, Paolo saluted the driver and turned to walk the last quarter mile toward the vineyard. There was a slight hill as he approached, which hid the view of the vineyard at first, but as he mounted it and surpassed the peak, the brownish-gray of the vines of autumn spanned out before him.
Paolo stood for a moment at the crest, looking from left to right, taking in the breadth of the vineyard his father tended. There were thousands of vines producing high quality grapes, fruit that went into someone else's fermenter, to bottle the wine and slake the thirst of those who understood and appreciated the best wines of Tuscany.
After heaving a sigh of relief at being home, Paolo strode down the path toward the vines. It was about mid-afternoon, too early for his father to have retired yet, so he expected to find Dito wandering through the rows. There might be less to do after the harvest, but Paolo knew his father would be there among his “children.”
Suddenly, Paolo stopped. He saw his father bent down between two vines, inspecting the late autumn growth and fingering the shoots that had not yet been pruned.
As if he sensed someone staring at him, Dito rose and turned in Paolo's direction. His face lit up with the recognition of his visitor and, although running to his son would have been unbecoming, Dito opened his arms wide to welcome Paolo home.
They hugged and exchanged familial words, and Paolo gave only a sketch of the events, a sketch that he was anxious to fill in while feasting on one of his mother's dinners that night.
“I want to come home, papa,” Paolo said, and his father beamed with pride and appreciation.
“But I want to make wine, not just grow the grapes.”
It was this last pronouncement that hit Dito suddenly. He had made a good living growing and selling his grapes. For a brief moment he wondered whether his son's statement was a criticism of the life Dito had chosen, but he was convinced by the loving look in his son's eyes that it wasn't that at all.
Life goes on and the world changes. Dito recalled when he told his own father that he didn't want to grow crops, as his father had done. He wanted to grow grapes.
“How can you make a living with just grapes,” Dito remembered his father saying.
With a smile of understanding, Dito decided that his own son's declaration was no different than his own.
Besides, at least it meant that Paolo would stay in Sinalunga.
About the Author
Dick Rosano is a wine, food, and travel writer with long-running columns in The Washington Post, Wine News, Wine Enthusiast and other magazines. He has five recent books on wine. Wine Heritage: The Story of Italian-American Vintners chronicles centuries of Italian immigration to America which laid the groundwork for the American wine revolution of the 20th century. His new series of mysteries is set in varying regions of Italy, featuring picturesque landscapes, intriguing characters, and the wine, food, and culture of the region. They include Tuscan Blood, Hunting Truffles, and The Secret of Altamura: Nazi Crimes, Italian Treasure. More on www.DickRosanoBooks.com. His travels have taken him to the wine regions of Europe, South America, and the United States.
In addition to his writing career, Dick has spent many years managing a highly trained team in global nuclear counter-terrorism.
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