Love Made in Italy Read online

  “Thank you so much, it must’ve fallen out of my purse,” I say taking money out to pay the lady for the apple.

  “No problem. You might want to zip up that bag,” winks at me “Ciao Bella,” and walks away.

  Besides smiling, I’m not sure what else to do. That was extremely sweet of him to follow me and hunt me down to give me my wallet back. I just wish I’d asked him his name or got something to thank him. I feel a little dumb at the moment.

  Biting into the apple and walking the streets of Sant’Agnello, I think about this man. He’s a total distraction to my day. Those brown eyes of his captured me. They had my attention the second I looked into them. His build was very attractive. He was sweet, charismatic, and his Mom, obviously, raised him right.

  – ### –

  After school, the kids and I have our afternoon snack. We play some board games and do a lot of laughing, as usual. Mr. and Mrs. Ellison coming home from work interrupts our afternoon ‘party.’

  “Hey everyone, we’re home,” Mrs. Ellison says as she puts her medicine bag in the corner of the kitchen and hugs her children. You can tell she loves them, I don’t think she likes being away from them, but she’s a career woman through and through. Luckily, they have their own practice so they try to only work during the day. If there is an emergency, it’s usually only one of them going in. I admire that, they have figured out how to make both work and family coincide, almost seamlessly.

  After leaving the Ellison residence, I’m almost never in a hurry to return home. So, today I get off the bus in Sorrento and decide to enjoy the town a bit. I walk the centro storico. I have fallen in love with this maze of narrow streets which run through town from the back of the Cliffside. It’s supposed to be only for pedestrians, but it’s pretty amusing when you see a little fiat trying to squeeze through the narrow alleyway. Once, I had to try to find a door step I could hop up on so I wouldn’t get run over by a crazy Italian that thought he can fit through it. Luckily, I survived. His car mirror, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well.

  I wander past some bars, lot of talking coming from both sides of the road. Walking the streets, you would never know it’s a Monday night. Instead of everyone in front of their electronics, they are out socializing. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few that are on their cell phones, a pretty fair share of people, but they aren’t as obsessed and crazy over it as I’m used to seeing in Seattle. It’s a much simpler life here and they enjoy it.

  I sit down at the nearest gelateria. The ice cream here is beyond perfection. Breyers just doesn’t have anything compared to their tiramisu ice cream; the creaminess of it makes me melt. I could live off gelato.

  As I’m sitting here enjoying my ice cream and watch the people interact in the street, my glance turns to the bar, where I see a lot of guys leave, loudly. It couldn’t be. What kind of day is this? I can’t believe the coincidence of seeing him again. I continue to lick my ice cream, but still looking in that direction. As I notice the guys from earlier, he turns around. He immediately sees me. Now this is just crazy.

  I stare at him as he walks up closer to me. I’m beginning to get butterflies. I haven’t had this feeling in a very long time.

  “Ciao Bella,” he whispers as he sits across from me.

  “Hello yourself,” is all I get out.

  “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” he asks with that adorable smile of his.

  “Yes it is.”

  “Kind of crazy that we keep running into each other. I guess Italy really is small,” he says, grinning at me.

  He crosses his leg and makes himself comfortable in the chair across from me, which is making me extremely uncomfortable. Just as I’m about to say something, the man with the Mandolin walks by. The sound of that instrument, the twinkle in his eye while playing, it really catches my attention. I admire him and his talent. He captivates me entirely. I have almost forgotten this very attractive man across from me. My focus is completely lost, when I feel a hand on mine.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asks me.

  “Are you crazy? Here?” I ask him, shocked.

  “Why not? Enjoy the music, feel it,” he whispers as he pulls me out of the chair. I can’t say no. As a matter of fact, I enjoy the excitement, even though it borders on embarrassment.

  I’m in the middle of a street of Sorrento, listening to my most favorite sound, dancing with a stranger. I enjoy his hands on the small of my back, our hands connecting, and dancing. I have no worry in the world. He looks at me and I can’t help but to smile at him. We dance in the middle of the street, the mandolin man continues his song, and I feel as if we’re in a movie. This is a scene straight out of Hollywood, only it is my life. He twirls me, my dress doing a little spin.

  Once he’s finished with his little tune, this stranger hands him some change, and I sit back in my seat and realize, I don’t even know his name.

  “What’s your name?” I blurt out.

  “Daniel Keller. Yours?” he asks me, smiling.

  “Sophia.”

  “Just Sophia? That’s a beautiful name.”

  I just nod and smile. I’m not ready for him to know my last name. In the world of Google, I really don’t need him knowing my name. He’s a stranger, even if we did exchange names, and an amazing dance.

  “So, Sophia, what’s got you in Italy? Vacation?” he asks as he orders a cappuccino from the waiter.

  “Shouldn’t you be tending to your friends?” I ask him avoiding his questions.

  “They’re going to explore the city a little more, I’m a big boy, I don’t need to be babysat,” he says sipping on his cappuccino.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just making sure,” I say.

  “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone. I saw you sitting here and I wanted to join you. If I’m overstepping, please, let me know and I’ll leave.”

  “No, No,” I say, almost excitedly. Why am I so eager to be near him? He intrigues me and I don’t want him leaving any sooner than he has to. Honestly, I’m enjoying the company; it’s been forever since I’ve had a conversation with anyone for more than five minutes.

  “Good. I’m enjoying your company. Tell me more about yourself, Sophia.”

  “There’s not much to say. I’m a nanny that has been here for three months. You?”

  “I’m studying at the Sant’Anna Institute. Today is actually the first time I got off campus to see the city. It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks me.

  I just smile and nod at him, and fiddling with my dress. I’m nervous. He makes me nervous.

  “Are you ok, Sophia?” he asks me with concern in his eyes.

  “Yes, I better go. I have an early morning. Thank you for the dance. Maybe we’ll see each other again?” I ask as I get up.

  I would like to see this man again, but he appears to be a distraction, and I can’t have that in my life right now. It wouldn’t be good for me. I’m still working through it all.

  “It would be nice, Sophia. I don’t have a phone that works here yet,” he says.

  I interrupt him, “Saturday, at the market at 2pm sound good?” I ask him quickly as I start to walk away.

  He nods and excitedly says, “I can’t wait. Nice meeting you Sophia.”

  “You too, Daniel.”

  And I walk home. The walk seems endless, even though it’s just around the corner. But, I’m smiling. Smiling like I haven’t in a long time. I’m smiling because, for once, something is going right. Finally, all the broken pieces are coming back together.

  I remember mom’s words: The pieces will mend together, with or without glue, they will be back together. You will see! It just takes that ONE person! And time, it will always take time.

  The week has raced by and I’m starting to get a bit nervous about Saturday. As I’m rummaging through my dresser to see what to wear, I come across my old memory box. I look at it for a minute; the pain is still too fresh to open it. I put it back in the drawer and keep searching
for something to wear. It’s Friday night, I’m not even sure why I’m sitting here doing this instead of going out. Some of my American friends I’ve made here invited me to go to the club with them. But I’m really not in the mood. My phone buzzes with a text message, but I’m still trying to figure out what to wear. As I come across my favorite yellow sundress, I decide that’s the one. It’s sexy, yet comfortable, along with my favorite brown sandals to go with it.

  My phone buzzes again, when I decide to finally look at it. It’s from my friend Katherine:

  Come to the Fauno Notte Club, there are some HOT Guys!

  I debate on it. I probably shouldn’t, but just sitting here watching the clock tick isn’t going to be fun either. I look in the mirror, play some Pitbull on my iPod and decide to throw on a pair of skinny jeans and a sexy crop top and forget I’m a nanny and let my dirty girl come out.

  I leave my apartment and walk down to the bus stop. I’m ready to party with my girls, this doesn’t happen because it usually takes them forever to convince me, and even then sometimes it doesn’t work.

  On my way.

  As I’m getting on the bus, I watch all the crazy Italian girls get ready to go out. It’s still a bit strange to me to see young girls at the age of sixteen going out to party, let alone drinking.

  Once I arrive at the club, I let all the girls get off the bus first; I’m not in a major rush like they seem to be. I make it through the door and look around for my friends. As soon as I spot Katherine, she comes up to me, grabs me by the arm, and pulls me into the booth they are sitting in.

  “Hey Ladies,” I scream as Katherine orders us a round of shots.

  “Hey Phia, here drink.” Katherine screams handing me a shot.

  “What are we celebrating?” I ask and then down the shot.

  “The hot guys over there,” she says as she points to a whole group of guys.

  Disco Inferno by 50 Cent blares through the speakers, and I start to feel the two shots that I’ve downed one after the other, hit me.

  “Let’s dance,” I scream to Katherine while all the other girls are chit-chatting in the corner about who out of all those hot guys they want.

  “Let’s,” she screams.

  We make our way on the dance floor, the lights are flashing, and there are people everywhere that we are elbowing on our way to the dance floor. I try to apologize to everyone, the American manners coming out, but they aren’t fazed by it.

  Katherine and I grind against each other, shaking our hips, doing the sexy things we always do on the dance floor. We always forget everything around us, shaking each other, making those ridiculous duck lipped faces, and throw our hands around like we’re in one of those rap videos. My favorite Maroon 5 song comes on, ‘It was always you’ and I get totally sucked into it. I close my eyes and sway to the music. I feel it inside and my thoughts turn to Daniel. I feel a smile creep across my face when I think of him. Suddenly, I feel a pair of hands on my hips from behind. I continued to dance to the song, too afraid to look around. There’s never any way of telling who is trying to dance up on you or with you. In this particular moment, I just went with it. The song takes me away. His hands wander all over my back, my hips, along my sides. It is extremely sexual, but in a seductive way. I enjoy it.

  The song ends, and I decide to turn around to look at who is dancing with me like that. I’m not going to lie; I enjoyed it a lot, and I am sad the song is over. Shocked to see Daniel behind me, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. Relieved it wasn’t some crazy man that I just let touch me like that, I pull back and smile at him.

  “Happy to see me?” he shouts in my ear.

  “A little,” I scream back over the music.

  We are still on the dance floor when Selena Gomez’ song ‘Come and Get It” comes on. He spins me around on the dance floor like he did on the streets the other night. I let loose like I’ve never done with anyone. He makes me feel so good. We continue to dance. Unfortunately, my friend Katherine interrupts us.

  “You alright?” she shouts looking between Daniel and I.

  I smile at her and nod; trying to show her with my eyes that it’s not a good time to be all-protective over me. She knows a little about why I left Seattle, so she worries when we go out. It’s nice, but sometimes a little much. I take Daniel’s hand and tell him I’m going to go hang out with the girls, he’s more than welcome to come hang out with us or even bring his friends over. I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind the hot stuffs coming to hang out. He agrees and kisses my hand and then my cheek, as he makes his way off the dance floor in the other direction.

  “Alright ladies, the guys will be here in a few minutes, best behavior,” I say to them as I make it back to the table. The girls have ordered a tequila sunrise for me and are partying it up.

  “The hot guys we were staring at earlier?” Sabrina asks.

  I have to say; I didn’t notice that Daniel was part of that gang earlier when they pointed them out.

  Drunk off my ass, I lost count how many tequila sunrises I had. Daniel drags me out of the club to let me get some fresh air.

  “It’ll do you good, babe,” he says as we sit down on the curb.

  I’m trying to catch my breath. Everything seems to be spinning.

  “I really, really, really, really, really like you,” I say to him as I lay my head on his shoulder.

  “Oh really? Is that the alcohol talking?” he says.

  “Alcohol can talk? Whoa!” I say to him with big eyes.

  Daniel laughs at me.

  “What’s it saying right now, Daniel?”

  “It’s saying you need to go to bed, Sophia.”

  “Ok, let’s go. Take me.”

  “Take you? To bed?”

  “Well you said I needed to go to bed, so take me.” I started to demand.

  I hear Katherine coming up to us.

  “Sophia, are you ok? I brought your purse. We’re all starting to head home. Do you need us to call you a taxi?”

  “Actually, I’ll make sure she gets home, Katherine. Is that alright, Sophia?” Daniel asks me.

  “Duh! Take me to bed,” I demand again.

  Everyone seems amused by my drunken ass. All I know is, the ground is spinning, there are two of each of them, and I’m starting to feel the urge to throw up. Shit. Once I get up and run to the end of the building, Daniel is right behind me holding my hair as I hurl. Oh, this is so not how I would’ve wanted him to see me. He starts to rub my back and tries soothing me. I wonder how many times he’s done this to a girl. I feel bad for putting him in this position; this definitely doesn’t look good on my part.

  Once I finish, Daniel pulls his phone out and calls us a taxi. I try to stop him, to tell him that it’s going to cost a fortune and we should take the bus, but he insisted to take me home in a cab.

  Arriving at my apartment, I don’t even recall how I told the taxi driver where I live or the drive in general. But there is Daniel, right beside me, helping me out of the taxi.

  “Babe, you have to hold my hand a little tighter to get you out,” he says as he tries to pull me out without us both falling.

  “This is as tight as I can. Besides, you’re weak.”

  “I’m weak? Oh woman, I’ll show you weak.”

  He pulls me out and I fall into his arms. I crash against his hard chest. I feel muscles and bones. Now I wish I knew what he looked like underneath.

  “Get rid of your clothes, I can’t see your chest,” I spit out as I try to gather my balance.

  Daniel is just laughing as he pays the taxi driver. He pulls me up the stairs that lead to my apartment. The neighborhood is quiet and even my favorite mandolin man is nowhere in sight. I’m trying to pull the key out of my purse, but even that seems a bit daunting at the moment. Daniel is leaning against the building, laughing at me. He holds his hand out trying to get me to give him the bag.

  “Nuh uh. I got this.” I say.

  He’s shaking his head, never pulling his hand awa
y.

  “Fine, you think you’re so much better, you find the damn key,” I mumble as I hand him the purse.

  But it doesn’t even take a second for him to have the key and unlock the door. I just grumble and pout and work my way into the apartment. I crash on my couch and that’s that.

  “No! No! Leave me alone! Don’t touch me there! Stop it! STOP IT!” I wake up sweating and trying to catch my breath. He was on top of me, like he always is. Why am I still having these dreams? They have gotten better since I moved here, but they continue to haunt me.

  As I’m doing my breathing exercise my therapist told me about, I see Daniel coming close to me and sitting down on my bed.

  “Are you ok?” he asks as he pushes the hair out of my face.

  “I’m fine. Did you sleep here last night?”

  “Yeah, I slept on the couch.”

  “How’d I get into the bed? And furthermore, where are my clothes?”

  I look around the room trying to figure out how I got here because I don’t remember anything. The taxi ride is pretty much the last thing I remember. Oh wait; the key issue. So maybe I am aware of more. But as to how I got into the bed, I’m clueless.

  “I helped you get off the couch because you didn’t look comfortable at all. So, I helped you into your bed and took your jeans off. Nothing happened, Sophia. I got you covered and laid down on the couch. I just wasn’t going to leave you here alone. Are you sure you’re ok? You woke up screaming.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you for that. I must’ve had a bad dream. I don’t remember any of it.”

  I wish I didn’t remember any of it. I wish it didn’t feel like it used to. I wish it would go away, all of it. The dreams, the memories, the fear; all of it still feels so real and recent.

  “I actually made you some breakfast. You in the mood for some coffee and toast?”

  I crawl out of the bed, put on an old t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s already sitting at my bar in the kitchen when I get out of the bathroom. I look like shit and he’s still here. There’s something wrong with him, clearly. I sit down next to him, and bite into my toast.

  “Thank you Daniel. You didn’t have to do any of this. I’m actually surprised you’re still here,”