When he put her away from him he was still smiling broadly, as if he’d found a long lost friend. “So this is the Arie I’ve been hearing about. Pleased to meet you, my dear.”
“And you, too, sir,” Arie said with a nod and she couldn’t help but respond with a wide smile of her own. It was possible she wasn’t reading him right but he certainly came across as genuine.
“Sir? Did you call me sir?” He gave her a look of indignation which she knew was fake. “It is Nonno for you, not sir. You are family and don’t you forget that.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, just to tease him. “I mean, Nonno. Thank you for your welcome, Nonno.”
“My pleasure, my pleasure,” he said in a deeply accented voice that Arie was enjoying. None of the other Milanos spoke with such a deep Italian accent but she had no trouble understanding Nonno. In fact, she was enjoying his beautifully lilting speech.
“Come over here and tell me all about America,” he said as he drew her toward the living room. “I have not visited that country in a long time. You will fill me in on the latest news, yes?”
Arie smiled. “I would love to.”
“Ernesto, please leave signorina Arie alone.” Before they could disappear, a tiny white-haired woman approached and jammed her fists on her hips. Arie didn’t have to ask. This had to be Nonna. “Arie, if you’re not careful this man will talk your ears off. Come to the kitchen with me, my dear. Come and relax at the table while I finish preparing the calzone.” And with those words the lady marched over, took Arie’s hand and began to draw her out of her husband’s clutches.
But he was not giving up so easy. “Rosetta, Rosetta my dear, Arie is not interested in Italian cooking. We’re off to have some stimulating conversation about America, her homeland.”
“No, Ernesto. You’re off to talk this poor young lady to death and I will not have it. Do you think I want you to scare her off before she’s even settled in the family?” And again Rosetta tugged at Arie’s arm, obviously intent on getting her away from her husband as fast as possible.
“But Rosetta, my dear, she wants to come with me,” Ernesto insisted, making sure his hand was on Arie’s other arm so his wife could not pull her away.
She was just beginning to fret that she would be split in two by the tug-of-war when, to her relief, Rome came to her rescue.
Apparently he’d heard the dispute because he left the den where he’d been with his brothers and now he was hurrying toward them. “Nonno, Nonna, please. Arie’s here to relax, not to get caught in battle between the two of you.” Without apology he took both her hands and drew her out of his grandparents' grasp. “And besides, she’s mine. I found her first. Now go find somebody else to harass.” With a huge grin he pulled her close then led her away, but not before she heard the grumbles about selfish grandsons.
“Looks like you’re in high demand,” Rome said, laughing as they walked away.
Arie chuckled. “Talk about irony. First I’m not wanted and then I’m wanted too much.”
“That, I can deal with,” Rome said as he escorted her back to where he’d been ensconced with his brothers, leaving Arie to the mercy of his grandparents. When the cooking had started all four of the young Milano men had run off to watch European soccer – or football, as they called it on this side of the world – determined that they weren’t going to get drafted into beating batter, chopping lettuce or doing the dishes. It was the younger sister, Sophia, who had taken Arie under her wing until Nonno caught her in the hallway.
Now, instead of trying to make conversation with the family, Arie could hide out with the guys until dinner was ready. And although she didn’t know one thing about soccer – oh yeah, football – she didn’t mind it one bit.
It ended up that Arie had a blast with Rome’s brothers. They all seemed so eager to get to know her and to please her. Maybe it was because of what she’d suffered at the hands of their parents. Maybe they wanted to make it up to her. Whatever their motivation was, she was grateful. And she was a fast learner, too. Within minutes she was the one cheering loudest for AC Milan and when Manchester United sneaked in a final goal that gave them victory she could sympathize with Lorenzo, Dante and Marco. In the end it was Rome who moaned loudest. Arie was in the middle of comforting him when Lily came to the door.
“We’re ready for you,” she said, looking tired but happy.
In the end it turned out that dinner was not so bad after all. When they got to the dining room there was a free place between Nonno and Nonna and they insisted that Arie occupy that chair. “This way we can share you,” Nonna said as she patted the seat. “Rome can’t keep you all to himself, you know.”
“Don’t fall for that,” Rome warned. “They’re either going to grill you on what kind of fiancé I am or they’ll bore you with stories about me and my childhood pranks.”
“And I don’t mind either one,” Arie told him as she slid onto the seat beside Nonna. On the contrary, she was growing to love all the attention the two elderly Milanos were showering on her. It was more than she’d gotten from either of Rome’s parents.
But then after dinner, to Arie’s surprise, Vittorio did something that redeemed him in her eyes…sort of. While the other adults lounged around drinking wine and coffee and tea he retired to the living room where he sat on the floor with his five grandchildren who ranged from age six all the way down to fourteen months. There, he let them climb all over him and pull his hair and he gave not a whimper of protest. Better than that, he went on hands and knees and became ‘horsey’ for the little ones, going so far as to shake his tail and neigh at their command.
For the moment Arie had escaped from the grandparents and now she leaned over to whisper in Rome’s ear. “I can’t believe that’s your father. I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.”
Rome chuckled. “Believe it,” he said. “When it comes to family he takes his duties seriously.”
“Hmm, I can see that,” Arie murmured as she watched the bear of a man, now gentle and kind, frolicking with his grandkids. He seemed to be totally dedicated to their enjoyment and he was protective, too, rescuing them from tumbles even before they saw the danger themselves. Was that how he was with his own sons and daughters? Although his son was now a grown man was that how Vittorio still saw Rome, as a beloved offspring he needed to protect?