“Oh, felicitations, congratulazioni per il vostro fidanzamento, my children! I’m so happy for you.”
And she kissed us each three times, while Sebastian grinned away as if nothing could ever dim his happiness.
“And now for your surprise?” she said, patting Sebastian on his arm.
He winked and nodded.
I actually felt jealous that I wasn’t in on the secret, but I couldn’t help smiling anyway.
“Some lunch before you go? I was going to fix myself insalata tricolore – you’re welcome to join me.”
We sat in the signora’s pretty garden, enjoying the tranquility that came from within.
“So, when will you marry?” she asked, with keen interest.
We answered simultaneously.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“As soon as possible,” said Sebastian.
The signora laughed.
“Oh, you two have some talking to do, I can see that. Never mind, my dears, you’ll work it out. Have you decided where you’ll live?”
“Caro has a place near New York,” said Sebastian, “but I could be stationed anywhere.”
“You’re in the army?”
“No, ma’am, US Marines.”
Signora Carello nodded slowly, a frown of concern crinkling her eyes.
“He has to do two more years,” I said, staring at my plate, and trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “And he’s being sent out to Afghanistan. On Thursday.”
“Ah,” she said, and shook her head sadly.
“Hey, it’ll be fine,” said Sebastian, emphasizing the final word. “Besides, I might see you out there.”
Signora Carello looked confused.
“Caro is a reporter – a foreign correspondent,” said Sebastian. “But I wish she…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“Well,” said the signora, forcefully, “you young people don’t choose the easy path, but it is your own path. I wish you both well. Please come back and have your honeymoon here.”
“Honeymoon!” said Sebastian, looking as if he’d just won the lottery. “Hell, I’d forgotten about that! Yeah, we should definitely have a honeymoon, Caro. With room service – so we don’t have to get out of bed.”
I felt hugely embarrassed he’d said that in front of the signora, but she just laughed and he winked at her.
When Signora Carello took the plates back into the villa, I elbowed Sebastian in the ribs.
“Don’t say things like that in front of her: she’ll be embarrassed!”
Sebastian laughed. “You’re the only one who’s embarrassed, Caro, which is pretty fucking funny. Signora Carello used to be ‘fast’, remember? Anyway, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
And then I recalled that the signora had already cleaned our room that morning; I cringed, thinking about the large number of condoms that we’d deposited in the garbage can. Oh, God, how embarrassing was that? Sebastian’s inappropriate comment paled to nothing when faced with more tangible evidence of how we’d spent our time.
We collected our leather jackets from the tidy room, and Sebastian changed into his heavy boots before we headed off for the ‘surprise’. He looked so sexy bending over to fasten the buckles. What was it about jeans, boots and leather jackets? I wondered what it would be like riding through upstate New York on Sebastian’s mean machine. Now that would be fun.
I was puzzled when the signora cornered us by the front door and kissed us again, whispering something to Sebastian, and patting his arm.
I had the distinct impression that they’d planned something together: no doubt the Hunter charm and the Italian love of intrigue had been cooking up something.
The Amalfi coastline was like a huge James Bond set. Dizzying, narrow roads arced up the mountain, with the cliffs falling away into the sea, many hundreds of feet below.
I clung onto Sebastian, as he took the turns with terrifying speed. I could tell he was enjoying himself, but I had my eyes closed and grit my teeth so hard, I was afraid I would grind them into chalk dust or make them come flying out of my mouth like so many peanuts.
At the top of the path, above the small town of Pontone, Sebastian pulled off the road next to a lemon grove, and cut the engine.