I barely held in my laughter and had to look away. Miles led me by the elbow to an outside table after Gio explained he’d bring them out to us and we could pay later.
I could hear Gio giving a similar greeting behind us as we sat on the mismatched chairs outside. Taking a deep breath in, I looked around the bustling streets.
“I decided to start doing some sightseeing while I’m here. It really is a beautiful city,” I said warmly, my gaze coming back to him.
The grumpiness had waned as he scanned the street as well. There was a florist nearby that brought the scent of roses when the wind blew. Another café, something that boasted fresh-pressed juices, was a few doors down.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I came back home,” he said thoughtfully.
Twisting around to face him more fully, I asked, “What made you come back?”
“MJ,” he said solemnly. “There had been a sadness about her, nothing she’d admit to when I asked. Last Mother’s Day, I made the last-minute decision to come out here over the weekend. Her class had made cards fortheir moms and she was completely distraught. I think the older she gets, the more she longs for Katy.”
Sighing, I answered, “I get that. For me with my father, it was in the simple things.”
“Can only imagine. I’m fortunate to still have both of mine. Something I try hard not to take for granted.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, something common for us. I loved that we didn’t need to fill the moments with words all the time. He looked up, laughing to himself.
“I’m just remembering. That Mother’s Day weekend was the first time I met Sofia. She and Luke hadn’t gotten together yet. Whew, she was feisty.”
Laughing along with him, I answered, “You got that right. I mean, Sofia has a calm about her that I love but she can rival even Corinna’s fire at times. Now her, she’s the one to watch out for. I think it’s the red hair.”
We both laughed again, and I realized we were both skirting around the mention of my brother.
“So, tell me,” he said, tapping his knee to mine under the table. “What simple things remind you of your father. If you want to tell me, that is.”
“Yes, I love talking about him. Let’s see. Whenever I visit the Aventine Keyhole, it’s like he’s right there with me. It was our special place. We call it the Buco della Serratura.”
“Hmm, when Luke and I visited Rome as kids, I don’t remember seeing that. Why was it so special?”
Wistfully, I answered, “It’s a place where there is a keyhole. Through it, you see a perfectly framed view of St. Peter’s Basilica across the city. It’s like an almost magical perspective that feels like finding wonder in something small.”
He leaned toward me, placing his forearms on the wobbly table. “I love that. I’m glad you have that memory to hold on to.”
“Me too,” I said softly. “Papa used to say, “life’s beauty is often hidden.” It spoke to me and continues to in some areas of my life. I’ve been avoiding our spot for awhile because it makes the pain of loss so heavy. I need to start visiting more often.”
Miles took my hand from my lap, intertwining it with his. The warmth of it should’ve made me feel uncomfortable in the heat of the summer afternoon, but I relished it. Relished his strength.
“Your dad was absolutely right,” he said. Once again, his heated gaze seemed to capture me. It was like everything on that city street melted away as time stood still.
The discreet clearing of a throat broke our eye contact, but I noticed that Miles didn’t let go of my hand as Gio gingerly placed our pizzas in front of us with a wink. Only when he returned through the open door did he let go.
“Let’s dig in. See what all the fuss is about,” he said with a side-eye in the direction Gio had just left.
“You’re going to love this. Roman pizza is perfection,” I cooed as I took my first bite. Its thin, crackly crust brought me back to Regio’s Pizzeria near our house. The tangy sweetness of the tomato sauce along with the blistered edges of peppery basil leaves made my heart happy. I bobbed my head side to side in total glee.
When I looked up, I instinctively grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser on the table when I realized Miles was watching me.
“What?” I asked, swiping my mouth and chin in fear of melted cheese hanging from either.
He grinned and said, “I love watching you eat.” He quickly added, “Not like a creep or anything. You just enjoy your food so much. Savor it. I love that.”
Swallowing my bite, I said, “Glad to entertain you, Mr. Austin.”
Pointing to the monstrosity in front of him, I joked, “You know. That’s not pizza. That’s just chaos.”
He looked down at the mound of toppings slowly sliding off the two slices. Gio must’ve thought it would be funny to add as many of the ingredients Miles had asked for. You couldn’t even see the crust.
