“I am an American.”
“If you are an American, you must speak English.”
“I do.”
“Say something in English.”
“What do you want me to say?” Tony asked in English.
“Say you are a poor Italian boy far from home and all alone.”
“I really am,” Tony said in English.
“You can’t speak English!”
“I am a poor Italian boy far from home and all alone,” Tony quickly said in English.
Her eyes widened.
“I think I maybe believe you,” the girl said.
“I swear to God.”
She smiled and took his arm.
“It is not right to be alone and far from home,” she said. “Come, I will take you home with me and we will have a glass of wine for you, and a cake.”
I don’t believe this! Thank you, God!
She took him to the Ristorante Napoli, which was closed, and through a door that opened on a stairway that led to a little apartment over the restaurant.
Her father—Tony recognized him as the guy who gave him the good meal the first time he went to the restaurant—and her mother and some younger brothers and sisters were there.
Her father didn’t recognize him.
Thank God, after that bullshit story I handed him about being from some village near the Austrian border!
The girl told her family they had met in the church and that he had told her he was alone, and she had brought him home for a glass of wine and a cake. Her mother raised her eyebrows the way Tony’s grandmother used to raise hers; but her father gave him a glass of wine, and then another, and some kind of pastry her mother said she made special for the family and not for the restaurant. And then everybody just sat there sort of uncomfortable, so Tony took the hint and decided he better get the hell out of there before he made a pest of himself, and started to go.
He shook hands with everybody and then the girl went down the stairs with him to the street, and he gathered his courage and blurted, “I’d really like to see you again.”
“Impossible.”
“Why is it impossible? We could have a cup of coffee or something. Dinner.”
“It’s impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“I have a job. I work all week.”
“You have to have some time off.”
“Very little.”
“You have to have some,” Tony argued. “You’re off now, for example. Are you working tomorrow? Tomorrow’s Sunday!”
She hesitated before replying, “No. But my family will be visiting relatives.”