Page 29 of Gelato at the Villa (Suitcase Sisters #2)

Rosie had been surprisingly quiet for most of our dinner.

She suddenly had lots to say. “It is a pleasant thought, though, isn’t it?

Gathering around the table for a feast at the end of all things would be lovely.

And to be with humans who actually want to be with each other and be kind would be divine.

But I agree with Claire. Religion through the ages has not been attractive.

I don’t see where a bride is going to come from who could be considered beautiful. ”

Gio spoke again, and Amelia translated with a smile. “Every bride is beautiful on her day. And you are right. The bride of Christ is not beautiful today. But, you see”—Amelia leaned closer—“today is not her day.”

We all paused.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to memorize the scents that surrounded us. I wanted all the fragrances of that evening to attach themselves to my memory of this moment, this conversation.

Amelia’s voice echoed in my thoughts. Today is not her day.

“Well,” Rosie said, stacking the empty plates, “I have a feeling I am more like you, Claire. I don’t know if I agree with all the things Gio and Amelia believe about God, but I know that they are the people I want to spend my time with, so perhaps there is something to it.”

Amelia reached across the table and gave Rosie’s hand a squeeze. “We love you, Rosie.”

“Yes, I know you do. You’re very good at loving people.

It’s maddening, really. I keep thinking you’ll show your true colors.

Yet in the five years I’ve known you, you have been the same person every single day.

And that is a person who cares. A person who is passionate about God.

And others.” Rosie stood abruptly. “Time to earn my keep.”

“No, no. Please leave them,” Amelia said. “Stay and talk.”

“Thank you, no.” Rosie’s voice had a catch in it.

“I’m going to get this cleared. That’s my contribution to the dinner.

Would you like me to bring bowls of gelato out here for the rest of you?

I’m going to have mine in my room later.

By the way, I’m having one of each flavor, and I think the four of you should do the same.

” As she headed back to the house she called over her shoulder, “We might just have enough. Barely.”

Gio looked confused. He had missed the story of how we ended up with a week’s supply of gelato.

We told the tale, with Amelia translating.

Claire added some flair by acting out how Enzo was so elated he kissed her.

And then how people gathered to watch Raphael come to our rescue and deliver the bountiful amount of gelato.

When Gio stopped laughing, he started a string of stories about Enzo while Amelia was kept busy translating. Rosie brought generous portions of all three gelato flavors, and we enjoyed them slowly, evaluating as we dined.

“The lemon is sweeter than what I expected,” Claire said. “And yet the bright, citrusy tones are not lost. Very refreshing.”

Gio indicated that the hazelnut was the best. His favorite. End of discussion.

“It is velvety, isn’t it?” Claire held up her spoon in the candlelight. “Excellent milk-fat ratio.”

“No, no, no,” I scolded her playfully. “We do not use the word ‘f-a-t’ or any other related words while on Italian soil, remember?”

“Right. Well then, let me say in conclusion that I’m going to side with Enzo the Magnificent on my vote for the best flavor of the evening. The strawberry is a marvel. My favorite so far of the entire trip.”

“That’s saying a lot,” I said.

“Our splurge quest does not end here,” Claire proclaimed. “We have more gelato flavors yet to discover.”

I swallowed my last taste of strawberry and had to agree that Enzo’s fragola made with Amelia’s strawberries was at the top of my list. “What is the growing season for strawberries here?”

“This year the first batch was ready a week ago. That’s early for us.

We will probably have strawberries through August,” Amelia said.

“When we moved in, the garden had gone untended for a few years. We had to bring in help to pull all the weeds. They had taken over. It amazes me how abundant the garden is now. Gio poured many hours and much passion into our garden.”

He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. She kissed him back on the lips.

When Gio drew back he grinned and said, “Baci alla fragola.”

Amelia didn’t need to translate. We could guess that he was saying, “Strawberry kisses.”

Claire drew in a deep breath. “Is that sweet fragrance coming from the flowers? I thought Rosie had on some lotion or perfume.”

“It’s the wisteria,” Amelia said. “Royal Japanese purple. I helped my nonna plant it when I was young. She always liked it because it’s one of the most fragrant wisterias. Isn’t it heavenly?”

“It’s hypnotic,” Claire said. “Everything about your home is stunning.”

“Grazie.”

Gio stood and cleared dishes.

“Thank you for the gelato,” Amelia said. “I might serve it again at breakfast.”

“We wouldn’t mind,” I said.

“Gio and I are going on up to the house, but please stay here as long as you like.”

“Sogni d’oro,” Gio said.

“Golden dreams,” Amelia translated. “Or, as you probably say, sweet dreams.” She gave both of us a hug and followed Gio up the steps. The space felt diminished when they left.

“It’s such a beautiful night,” Claire said. “If the pool were heated, I would try to talk you into going swimming right now.”

“If it were heated, you wouldn’t have to talk me into it.”