She slid the mobile phone into her pocket. They began their walk back down the hill side-by-side at a steady pace. The air had grown more humid. A patch of dark clouds lingered on the edge of the horizon.
“Is your sister older or younger than you?” Lorenzo said.
“My sister Maggie is four years my senior.”
“You’re lucky. I’m the middle child, sandwiched right between my two sisters. We’re all two years apart.”
“Growing up, my friends complained to me that being the middle child can be trying. The youngest sibling is always the one who is spoiled and the oldest is the one who is granted the most responsibility. The middle child is the odd one out,” Sabrina said.
“Those patterns are universal.” Lorenzo rubbed the back of his neck. “I was granted some leeway as the only male child in the family, but my sisters are both angels.” His cheeks turned cherry red. “I was not always the most well behaved of my siblings.”
Her eyes widened. “What type of scrapes did you get into as a child?”
“Most of the time, when I was in trouble, it was for something minor, like leaving spiders or another insect inside my sisters’ shoes. But I had moments where I was also a right terror. There was this one time where I took a pair of scissors and decided it would be brilliant to give my older sister a haircut while she slept.”
Sabrina gasped. “No.”
“Oh yes. I can still hear her screaming when she awoke the next morning terrified that her hair was falling out. She chased me around the sitting room, whipping her detached ponytail at me and threatening to break all my video games.” He laughed and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Another time, I stole one of my mother’s expensive designer dresses and cut up the skirt to use as a tail for my kite.”
“If I were in your family, I don’t think I’d ever let you near a pair of scissors as long as you lived.”
His eyes sparkled with mirth.
Small droplets of rain began to fall from the sky and create abstract patterns on the cobblestone streets. Sabrina stuck the palm of her hand up.
Lorenzo glanced skyward. “This will be a light storm. It rains every day like clockwork this time of year. We’ll have just enough time for us to order anchovies and then head to the train station.”
As he spoke, with a sudden rush, the rain began to come down in sheets. They quickened their pace and darted under the cover of a red-and-green-striped café awning. Water ran down the chalkboard menu out front, obscuring some of their offerings. The scent of french fries wafted under her nose. A clump of damp hair clung to her face.
She licked her lips. “That smells so tasty.”
“That would be the batter they dip the anchovies in.”
Lorenzo pulled the door open, and a bell chimed. He sniffed the air. “Fresh seafood.”
They waited behind two other groups of people. Sabrina glanced around the café, listening to the Italian and marveling at the assortment of fresh seafood behind the display glass. She squinted at the tiny white labels, attempting to decipher what the names of each item translated to in English.
A worker behind the counter greeted Lorenzo with a bright smile. “Ciao, Lorenzo.” He asked Sabrina a question in Italian. She stared blankly.
“English?” the worker asked.
She nodded.
“I was saying to Lorenzo that he has a bella donna, a beautiful woman, with him today. His sisters will be pleased. It’s about time Lorenzo finds una principessa.”
Lorenzo’s neck colored a darker shade of tomato red than earlier. With a pained expression on his face, he changed back to speaking in his native tongue, his words short and clipped. The shop worker scooped up an order of the anchovies and handed it across the counter to him. The worker shrugged.
“Grazie, Gio,” Lorenzo said.
He paid for the food and guided Sabrina outside by the fingers. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Droplets of water dripped from the ends of the awning. Lorenzo passed her a cone of the fried goodies. Steam wafted above it, still hot from the oven.
She picked up the smallest piece of fish. It was tender, but crunchy. It tasted more of lemon than any other flavor. “It’s salty. I thought it would taste fishier.”
Smugly, Lorenzo puffed out his chest. “It lives up to your expectations?”
“Absolutely! Another item to add to my list of things I never thought I’d enjoy.” She took one more piece and passed it back to Lorenzo. “Will you tell me what happened back there?”
He took a bite of food and chewed it slowly. “Gio was joking about telling my mother I was on a date. I warned him that something like that isn’t a laughing matter. Gossip spreads quickly. That’s all.”
