Simon gets coleslaw and a nice tomato from the refrigerator, cooks himself a steak. The steak is from his coat pocket, and it’s—astonishingly—still fresh, still wrapped in paper from Gennaro’s. It should fry up nicely.
As his meal is cooking, there’s a knock on the door.
Sofia Rosa is puffed from climbing the stairs, and she’s holding a bottle in one hand. “This wine? I do not like it. I have opened it at the top, see, just to try. But I tried, and I do not like it. I know you are drinking wine sometimes, so I bring it to you—maybe you will find some use for it.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” He takes the bottle, examines the label. “Auntie, this is a Sangiovese. Where did you get this? Did you buy it?”
“It was given to me as a gift by Mr. Harvey. I think he is trying to ‘get into my pants,’ as the young people say.”
Simon coughs out a laugh, which hurts quite a bit, so he braces a palm on his stomach and holds further laughs in. “Right. Well, at least Mr. Harvey is buying you nice gifts. This is quite an expensive wine. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”
“Eh—expensive or cheap, it makes no difference if I do not like it, no?” Sofia Rosa peers at his face. “What has happened to you? You have bruises. Did you have another fight?”
“Something like that, Auntie, yes.”
“Well, I hope you won this time ... All right, I am going back downstairs now to prepare my own food. That steak smells very good!”
He smiles as she retreats back toward the stairs. “Enjoy your dinner, Auntie. Thanks for the wine.”
Once he’s closed the door, Simon looks again at the bottle he’s been given: Goddamn, a Brunello di Montalcino ... He’d be scrimping for weeks to buy a wine this good. He sets it on the breakfast table, finds himself a glass in the kitchen, ferries over his plate with the coleslaw and tomato and steak.
Cautiously, he sits down at the table, pours from the bottle, examines the color: gorgeous. What a gift. The aroma is like black cherries, full bodied and rich. The wordSangioveseis derived from the Latin, meaning “the blood of Jupiter”—it will pair beautifully with this cut of meat on his plate, which is small and tender, dripping with juices.
Simon takes a long swallow of wine, picks up his knife and fork, and begins to carve.
