Elisa and Elmo disappear inside the bakery, and I, inexplicably, feel very annoyed.
“We were saying: We agree on names for the children. Now, I think we might have some issues with the ceremony. I have so many relatives, if I don’t invite them all, they’ll get offended. And then there’s my mother’s side, from Grosseto, who I absolutely must invite, in part because her sister-in-law Matilde is my godmother ...”
“Do you know if Elisa went out with anyone after she had Linda? Did she have any boyfriends?” I no longer have any interest in conversing with Intemerata—not that I had any before.
“I never!” she blurts out. “Why are you only interested in discussing Elisa? Here we are, deciding our future. You could at least do me the honor of participating.”
Okay, it’s time to call it quits. To hell with English manners. “Look, Intemerata, I don’t know what made you think I came here with a ring in my pocket. I’ve known you for half an hour, and that’s already enough for a lifetime. I don’t want eight children, I don’t care about your relatives in Grosseto, and above all I very much enjoy sex outside of marriage!” I explode.
“Bravo!” the old men at the table beside us cheer with applause. “Candidate for mayor!”
Intemerata looks at me in shock, her right hand clutching her rosary. She jumps up, snatching away the songbook so threateningly that I think she’s going to hit me with it. “I’m leaving. You don’t deserve me!” she shouts, and then strides off toward the church.
Maybe she’ll go ask divine justice to punish me.
“Oh, look at Mr. Hot Stuff over there. You have a lot of fun with the ladies, don’t you?” comments one of the old men.
“I have a certain talent,” I reply, bringing the glass of melted ice and water to my lips.
“We’re missing a fourth player. Want to join us?”
“Why not?” I have two very good reasons for accepting. The first is that I really want to drink something other than water. The second is Elisa: She hasn’t left the bakery with what’s-his-name yet, and I wonder what they’re up to.
I change tables and sit with the three players. Two are much older, and the other is at most fifteen years older than I am. He’s wearing mechanic’s overalls with a T-shirt that says “OfficeMax.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Vanni. I deal the cards because Max doesn’t know how to shuffle them, and Luciano has Parkinson’s. If he deals, the three of cups might end up in Pistoia.”
“I may not be good at dealing cards, but my wife is one happy woman.”
Okay, I feel much more comfortable at this table. “I’ll have a Manhattan,” I order. “Neat.”
“A what?” the bartender asks me. “I have some grappa. At most I can make you a Negroni.”
“Oh, Mario, what are you saying? You can’t say ‘negroni’ anymore. It’s ‘men of considerable stature from sub-Saharan Africa.’”
“Negroni is the surname of the person who invented the drink, you ignoramus!” replies the bartender. “So, what will it be? Grappa or Negroni?”
Grappa? This early? “A Negroni is fine.”
Vanni deals the cards and puts the trump in the center. “Fuckers win with swords,” he announces.
“You made that poor girl take off running,” comments Luciano.
“We had irreconcilable visions for our futures,” I reply. I drop a card and lose my hand.
“Belvedere has a strange air. The good women always leave,” replies Max. He’s joking, but I think I can hear a hint of regret.
“Not all of them,” I observe, my thoughts already turning to Elisa. Even with all her flaws, I can’t help but appreciate her tenacity. Vanni takes another hand with the three of swords, rejoicing with a blasphemy through gritted teeth.
“My wife and I have been married fifty-six years,” says Luciano. “And she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“The Lollobrigida of Belvedere,” comments Vanni, mimicking a busty chest with his hands. “We were all vying for her, but she married this scoundrel here. She said he made her laugh.”
“Laughter is the way to a woman’s heart. Beauty fades, money comes and goes, but if you know how to make your woman laugh, she’ll never leave you.”
“Oh, what a poet! Who do you think you are, Dante?” Max mocks him. “Drop your card and shut the hell up!”
“You have a lot to learn from me, dufus.” Luciano swipes back.
