The three of them burst into laughter, returning inside the apartment to join the others.
quaranta
‘Well, hello, hello!’ Stella chimed, seeing Marco walk towards her on Via dei Giubbonari. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
Rugged up in his coat, scarf and gloves and carrying a small white parcel, Marco’s breath was visible, hanging onto the winter night’s air with all its might. ‘Sì. Che freddo!’
‘Come here.’ She took his cold cheeks in her hands and planted a tender kiss on his lips.
‘What’s this about,eh?’ He retrieved his phone from the pocket of his navy chinos and pulled up the last text she had sent him.Meet me at Bar Luna e Lupa, ASAP. ‘What are you up to?’ he asked.
‘I have something I want to show you, but you have to close your eyes first. Ok? And no peeking.’
‘Vabbè.’ He did as he was told, and stood there patiently with a wry smile on his face. His olive skin glowed in the warm lighting emanating from the stores either side, and Stella felt as if her heart might melt at the sight of him looking so handsome.
Squeezing his hand, she guided him the last few paces before pulling up in front of the bar. Opening the door, she ushered him inside and out of the cold. ‘Keep them closed!’ She took the small parcel from his hands and placed it on the service counter behind them. Helping him out of his coat and scarf, she lay both on top of a nearby table and, from behind, masked his eyes.
The same familiar jazz they spent their days listening to hummed its usual tune, while the dimmed lighting and overhead twinkle lights made for the most magical atmosphere.
Stella’s scent – the perfume which had teased Marco incessantly – was all that he could register. ‘You smellamazing,’ he said. The warmth of her hands across his eyes and the sensation of her breath down the back of his neck were a tempting distraction.
‘Andyoulook damn gorgeous.’ She took one hand from across his eyes and ran it through his wavy brown hair. ‘So, are you ready?’
‘If I sayno, we can just stay like this all night,sì?’
She giggled. ‘Trust me. My plan is even better.’
‘Daje.’ He let his arms drop by his sides. ‘Sono pronto,signorina.’
Watching his face intently, she commanded, ‘Apri!’
Marco’s deep brown eyes blinked open. His expression, which changed immediately, was what Stella had worked so tirelessly to enjoy. Wide-eyed from the shock, Marco clasped his hands over his mouth, taking in the spectacle in front of him. He turned momentarily to face Stella.‘È . . . è . . .’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Stella . . .è incredibile.Veramente!’
In front of them, stretched proudly across the entire length of Bar Luna e Lupa, was Stella’s completed mural of Rome.
‘When did—?’
‘I’ve been popping in over the past few days since New Year. You’ve been closed, so yourpapàcut me a set of keys. I wanted it to be a surprise.’
‘E che sorpresa!’ He walked to the wall to take in the smaller details.
Just as she had planned, the line-up of Rome’s icons was finally finished, leading to a beautiful depiction of Bar Luna e Lupa. Above the bar, a bright full moon shone, joined by a glittering shooting star, the very same as tattooed on Stella’s wrist.
Marco stood in front of the bar in awe. ‘This is amazing. The sign, the door and windows, and, wait . . .’ Suddenly, his expression shifted and he dropped his face into his hands. Painted beside the bar was the shadowed silhouette of a woman in profile holding a swaddled baby in her arms. Stella walked over to him and hugged him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. He stretched out a hand and caressed the figure, noting the silver accents which Stella had added. The small initialsG. V.were tucked away in one of the corners of the mother’s dress line, and a small love heart sat contentedly in the space which connected mother and baby. ‘Mamma.’
Stella held him tighter, nodding over his shoulder. ‘Yes.’
‘Mamma is here in Bar Luna e Lupa.’ Stella watched as his eyes filled with tears, and he half-turned to take her in his embrace. He dropped into the nape of her neck, buried in the sweetness of her skin and warmth of her hair. Taking a deep breath, Marco pulled away just enough to catch her face in his hands. ‘You are . . . This is . . .’ he stammered.
‘It’s ok. You’re welcome.’ She wiped away a small tear that was gathering at the corner of his eye. ‘This is all for you. And yourpapà.’ Stella took a step back, and clasped his hands together between her own. ‘I have one moresorpresa. Just for you.’
She turned him the rest of the way around so that he now faced the service counter. Above the stretch of mirror on the wall behind the counter, Stella had paintedUna fame da lupa . . .in ornate silver lettering, complete with a small howling she-wolf.
The ‘a’ of lupa stood out from the other letters, embossed to indicate Stella’s cheeky adaptation of the traditional phrase.
