The Breakup (18 page)

“Have you?”

She stared at Pietro. It was true. She had gotten herself into trouble without them around to help. She didn’t like the reminder, but then again, she was finding a way out of it with her friends.

Stephen wasn’t going to go away. Aja knew him well enough to realize he would happily torment her life until he felt he’d paid her back for what she did to him. Considering the value he put in his family jewels… she groaned. He would probably never go away. She had to find a way to make him.

“Hello, mother? It’s Aja.”

“Yes, Aja. I think I know my only daughter’s voice. Though I’m sure I was starting to forget I even had a daughter.”

Aja rolled her eyes at Pietro. Here we go with the guilt trip. It would either be a breath-taking quick ride or a long, agonizing one.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call…”

“Yes, well, sorry isn’t good enough Aja. Your father has been out of his mind.”

“I can take care of myself mother, I’m an adult now.”

“Really? You can take care of yourself?”

The silence was as heavy as lead. “Well. I’m fine. I’m sorry Daddy worried.”

Pietro looked at her with a mixture of pity and censure. “You should have phone parents. They worry.” He shook his head.

Aja glared at him. She didn’t need scolding from both of them. Then she looked up and saw the concierge shaking his head, too. He was the same one that listened in on her last phone calls. Did the people of Italy have no idea of privacy? She shook her head back at him, and turned away, trying to control her temper.

“Is Daddy there?”

“He’s at work still. You know he never comes home before 9 o’clock.”
 

“I know, Mother, I just thought… ”

She cut her off again. Aja slumped against the counter and gave up. She listened to the tirade for the next few minutes, mumbling apologies as she went, knowing there was nothing she could say until her mother ran out of steam. They all knew better than to worry their father because her mother became a tigress when he was upset.

It always amazed Aja that they’d managed to stay married for so long when nearly all their friends were divorced. She figured their secret was that they understood each other and accepted their differences. They didn’t try to change each other like so many couples do. They knew what worked for them, and they didn’t mess with it. There was something to be said for that philosophy.

When her mother ran out of steam, Aja said, “Is there any message from Daddy?”

“No, just that he wonders when you’re coming home.”

“I don’t know yet.” Dare she tell her that Stephen was in Italy?

The same thing crossed Pietro’s mind because he mouthed, “Stephen,” and raised his eyebrows in a question.

Aja shook her head. She would wait to talk to her father. But, maybe even that was a bad idea; he would be on the next plane to Italy and would tear up Siena looking for him. Stephen didn’t have a chance against her father without the Canadian laws to protect him. The peace bond had no power here. Italy was run by the mafia, or so the television led North Americans to believe.

The mafia! It sparked an idea she couldn’t wait to explore. She got off the phone as soon as she could, giving her mother all the platitudes she needed so she could pass them on to Daddy. “Give my love to The Brothers.”

Aja hung up the phone and turned to Pietro. “Thanks for coming with me. I needed moral support.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her in front of the hotel clerk. She saw the clerk’s eyes widen, then his mouth dropped. There was no competing with a man like Pietro. Maybe now he’d mind his own business.

She pulled away. “Okay, you get that one for free, but cool it, okay?”

He shrugged in innocence. “We always kiss here, it Italian way.”

Aja laughed. “Sure, Pietro. But don’t you usually kiss on the cheeks?”

He grinned. “Not the young ladies.”

“Of course not,” she said and smacked him on the arm.

Aja had to make one more phone call. Mia. She missed her and wondered how the wedding plans were coming.

Mia answered the phone in a rush. “Aja! I’m so happy to hear from you. Do you have a number I can call you at if I need to get in touch with you?”

“Yes, one sec.”

“Pietro, what’s Juli’s phone number?” She grabbed a pad of paper off the counter and a pen and pushed it toward him.

He jotted down a strange combination of numbers, which she recited to Mia. After getting the number, Mia asked in a mischievous voice. “Who’s Pietro, Aja? Would that happen to be a nice hunk of Italian sausage I told you to find?”

Aja snorted out a laugh. “Um… well, I’ve been sampling the wares a little, but I haven’t decided whether or not to buy.”

Mia giggled. “Well, don’t make up your mind until I get there. Best friends have to test drive them first, right?”

“Mia! You’re coming here?”

Pietro’s eyes widened when Aja shouted.

“Yes, Ajakins, we’re getting married in Italy!” The last of the sentence ended in a shriek and Aja jerked the phone away from her ear.

“Mia, you’re coming here!” Aja couldn’t help but jump up and down a few times in excitement. “I can’t believe it. When?”

“In three weeks. Can you do some legwork for me?”

“You want me to plan a wedding in three weeks?!”

“I have faith in you, honey.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. You’re getting out of all the work,” Aja said. “As long as you don’t mind an Aja-style wedding, I’ll do it.”

“I said I trust you and I do. Just make sure to have a good assortment of that Italian sausage there.”

“But you’re getting married, Mia.”

“So? I can still window shop.”

“Okay, Miakins. I’ll make sure to have lots of Italian sausage.” Then she lost control. Aja laughed until tears poured down her face. She laughed harder at the looks of confusion on the faces of both men.

When they could speak again, Mia said, “I’ll call you in a few days at that number, okay? Is that where you’re staying?”

“No, she’s the sister of Pietro. I’m there a lot, though, so she can get a message to me.”

They hung up and Pietro said, “I know where get some really good sausage, Aja. For your friend wedding.”

She laughed so hard that her legs wouldn’t hold her, and Pietro practically had to carry her back to Julianna’s place.

Julianna and Marco were sitting at the table, heads close together, when they walked in. Aja was shocked by how much it bothered her to see them together. Marco looked up, his eyes finding hers immediately and he got to his feet.

“Nona wants to know if you’ll join us for supper this evening, Aja?”

“Um, okay. Tell her I’d love to.”

Marco nodded at Aja then turned to Julianna. “I’ll come by later in the week to take Bella out. Is that okay with you?”

She smiled. “Yes. Bella be happy. “You good father, Marco.”
 

I’m sure that’s for my benefit.

His smile was tight. “Thank you. Pietro,” he said as he passed. Then to Aja, “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Everything okay, Juli?” Aja asked.

“Yes, is fine. We talk about Bella. Marco want her go um… private school, but she love teacher. Not want go.” Julianna shook her head sadly. “Marco insist.”

“He just wants the best for Bella.” Aja sat down at the table, took Julianna’s hand. “You know that, don’t you? You said he’s a good father.”

“Yes, is true. I just want her be free, not trap like me.” She got up and started clearing the table and changed the subject. “Your family? They is okay?”

“Oh! I almost forgot. My friend Mia is coming here to get married.” A flash of inspiration hit her. “Juli, would you cook for their wedding?”

She smiled. “I love to. When it is?”

“In three weeks. I don’t know the exact date yet, but do you think you can do it?”

“Of course. Where wedding?”

“I don’t know yet, I have to plan everything. She might call here and leave a message for me, is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“What about Stephen?” Pietro broke in. He’d been quiet since Marco left and Aja only just realized this.

“I’m not going to worry about Stephen right now. I have an idea, though. Maybe you guys can help me with it.”

They gathered around while she shared the idea. Both loved it. Pietro grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. “Stephen be very surprised.”

“Yes. I sure hope so.”

Chapter 22

The winery was quiet when Aja arrived. The workers were done for the day and had gone home for dinner. Pietro dropped her off at the main house. He hadn’t said a word on the entire drive. She paused before leaving.

“Pietro, is something wrong?”

“You like Marco, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. But I do like his mother, Nona. She’s my friend and that’s why I accepted his invitation.”

Pietro seemed relieved by this. He snaked an arm around Aja’s waist and pulled her closer, giving her a kiss and then nuzzling her neck. “Have good time, Aja, but not lotta good.”

She laughed. “Bye Pietro.”

Aja climbed out of the car with a sinking feeling that she was allowing herself to fall deeper into the mire of regret.

Nona came outside to welcome her. “Aja. Come in.”

Dinner was delicious, and the company enjoyable. Again, they had a quiet meal outside on the terrace, ‘al fresco’, with candlelight.
I could definitely get used to eating this way.

Marco was a gracious host and he made sure the conversation flowed naturally, taking up any slack with funny stories about the vineyard and their trips to wine festivals.

Aja asked him a few questions about the wine-making process, and he was off and running.

“Making wine is like nothing else in the world,” Marco said, passion filling his voice. He lifted his glass of wine, a rich red color, so dark it was almost black. “There are so many things that can go wrong at every step along the way. When you end up with a perfect wine like this, it’s almost a miracle.”

Aja picked up her glass and sipped. “This
is
a wonderful wine, Marco. What is it?”

“It’s Chianti. We produce a lot of it. Tuscany is known for this wine and the grape that makes up most of the mixture, the Sangiovese. The grape is well-known to Italy.”

“Mmmm… It’s delicious. You said the Sangiovese is what makes up most of the mixture? What are the others?”

“Malvasia, a white grape, and the Canaiolo Nero, a black grape which darkens the wine as the Sangiovese is a light red grape. Chianti is a wonderful wine, but has been considered a cheap pizza wine for so long that we’ve had to fight against the stereotype. Have you ever seen the Fiaschi bottles, the ones they put candles in?”

“Yes. They have a round straw-covered bottom. I’ve seen them in many Italian restaurants in Canada.”

“That’s right. We’ve changed over to Bordeaux bottles, because of the idea that wine in Fiaschi bottles is somehow inferior.” Marco shook his head in disgust. “Chianti is quickly becoming a world-wide recognized, quality wine.”

“I can see why, it’s delicious.” The wine had a bit of a bite to it, but a smooth finish. She smiled as she sipped. It was as if she could taste the sun in her glass.

Nona laughed. “Listen to you two. I’m going to bed now. Make sure you don’t get so caught up in talk that you forget to clean up the dishes.”

“Night, Nona,” Aja said as Nona kissed her on the forehead.
 

“
Buona notte, madre
,” Marco said as she kissed him.
 

Nona left the room.

Marco turned back to talking of the winery. His words faded away as Aja watched him. He gestured with his hands to emphasize each point, and his eyes were alive and snapping with energy. It surprised her to realize he was a very good-looking man. His passion was the most vital thing about him. She realized she was hovering dangerously on the edge of falling for him. She forced her thoughts away from him and onto the wine business.

“Aja, are you listening to me?” Marco asked, studying her face.

“Um… yes, of course I am.”

Marco laughed. “Sure you are. I’m sorry. I’m probably boring you with all this talk.”

She sat up straight in her chair. “No you’re not. I’m just a little tired. I think the wine is going to my head, too. I love hearing about the wine business. It fascinates me.” To show she had been listening, she said, “I never realized you could adjust the sweetness in the wine just by adjusting the fermentation time. That’s really interesting.”