leaned toward him with a smile. They kissed.
"I don't think we'll be seeing each other again," Eden said.
"I think we must," he said.
She turned her face aside, politely, at the offer of a second kiss.
" Kwaheri ," Eden said. "Good-bye" sounded less final in Swahili. And just a touch romantic.
Chapter 10
E-MAIL LETTER FROM PINKY TUBNER TO HER SON AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
OCTOBER 14
H i, Gary and Gloria! Back in Rome after two days on the Amalfi Coast. October is busy but not the high season there, August being the big month when the hotels are jam-packed with people who come back year after year. So we were able to reserve this gorgeous room at Le Sireneuse in Positano, which is like a dream at night, the lights twinkling up and down this steep cliff by the sea. Our room was all in white with brown accents, Gloria (I took lots of pictures, never fear), and the bath even had a whirlpool tub! Which I could certainly use after the drive down from Rome. Let me tell you how happy I was that Frank decided not to rent a car but hired a car and driver instead, a driver used to the road down there. I have never been so scared! Roller coasters are tame compared to the Amalfi Coast road. It is one steep blind curve after another. The road is barely wide enough for two cars abreast! And then there are the buses and trucks coming at you with horns blatting, I had rope burns from my rosary. You know Frank—wise-cracking all the way. Grabbing me by the shoulder and going, Oooops! That was close! But I could tell his heart was in his mouth at least part of the time.
Making matters worse, you know that volcano they have down there, Vesuvius? It was smoking . First time in years, the driver said. Just what we needed, after that send-off at San Francisco Airport, glass pieces in my hair and throwing up big time from the rotten-meat stench in the lounge. I've told you guys enough about that already. But it was a bad omen for the start of our trip and of course I was petrified during most of the flight to Rome, until a couple of martinis knocked me out. So getting back to our excursion to Amalfi, there's a volcano acting as if it's going to explode at any time! Two bad omens. I was convinced I was going to die in a crack-up before we ever got to see His Holiness.
But we made it, Pinky here on very wobbly legs, and the next morning at breakfast by the heated pool at the hotel you would never guess in a thousand years who was at the table next to ours. NEIL DIAMOND!!! I was like seventeen all over again, totally tongue-tied, but you know Frank, five minutes and they had a conversation going. Neil could not have been sweeter about it. Then, in Ravello the next day, I swear it was Tom Cruise we saw on a red Vespa with this ravishing dark-haired girl, right there on the square. The Passionist Father we were having coffee with, who is my aunt Claudia's second cousin if I have that straight, said a lot of young Italian men resemble T.C. Anyway I took a couple of pictures on the sly and you can judge for yourself when I get back if I was right.
Even though I hated the idea of going one inch closer to that volcano, Frank the National Geo freak insisted and so we toured Herculaneum, one of two Roman towns buried in an eruption twenty centuries ago. Herculaneum was a spa for rich Romans. I had no idea how well those people lived! They even went to the bathroom indoors .
Well, if the vacationing Romans of yore ate half as well as we did for two days, they all must have been happy campers. I can't begin to describe the taste treats! Oyster-stuffed red potatoes. Steamed lobster in a gelatin of tomato and basil, cannaroni with little shrimp in a fennel-and-almond sauce—let me get to the desserts, and trust me my mouth is watering as I type this. Too bad the wild strawberry gelato won't travel, I'd bring home a gallon. And just try to imagine the torta la Zagara, the house speciality at this wonderful garden restaurant in Positano:
"I don't think we'll be seeing each other again," Eden said.
"I think we must," he said.
She turned her face aside, politely, at the offer of a second kiss.
" Kwaheri ," Eden said. "Good-bye" sounded less final in Swahili. And just a touch romantic.
Chapter 10
E-MAIL LETTER FROM PINKY TUBNER TO HER SON AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
OCTOBER 14
H i, Gary and Gloria! Back in Rome after two days on the Amalfi Coast. October is busy but not the high season there, August being the big month when the hotels are jam-packed with people who come back year after year. So we were able to reserve this gorgeous room at Le Sireneuse in Positano, which is like a dream at night, the lights twinkling up and down this steep cliff by the sea. Our room was all in white with brown accents, Gloria (I took lots of pictures, never fear), and the bath even had a whirlpool tub! Which I could certainly use after the drive down from Rome. Let me tell you how happy I was that Frank decided not to rent a car but hired a car and driver instead, a driver used to the road down there. I have never been so scared! Roller coasters are tame compared to the Amalfi Coast road. It is one steep blind curve after another. The road is barely wide enough for two cars abreast! And then there are the buses and trucks coming at you with horns blatting, I had rope burns from my rosary. You know Frank—wise-cracking all the way. Grabbing me by the shoulder and going, Oooops! That was close! But I could tell his heart was in his mouth at least part of the time.
Making matters worse, you know that volcano they have down there, Vesuvius? It was smoking . First time in years, the driver said. Just what we needed, after that send-off at San Francisco Airport, glass pieces in my hair and throwing up big time from the rotten-meat stench in the lounge. I've told you guys enough about that already. But it was a bad omen for the start of our trip and of course I was petrified during most of the flight to Rome, until a couple of martinis knocked me out. So getting back to our excursion to Amalfi, there's a volcano acting as if it's going to explode at any time! Two bad omens. I was convinced I was going to die in a crack-up before we ever got to see His Holiness.
But we made it, Pinky here on very wobbly legs, and the next morning at breakfast by the heated pool at the hotel you would never guess in a thousand years who was at the table next to ours. NEIL DIAMOND!!! I was like seventeen all over again, totally tongue-tied, but you know Frank, five minutes and they had a conversation going. Neil could not have been sweeter about it. Then, in Ravello the next day, I swear it was Tom Cruise we saw on a red Vespa with this ravishing dark-haired girl, right there on the square. The Passionist Father we were having coffee with, who is my aunt Claudia's second cousin if I have that straight, said a lot of young Italian men resemble T.C. Anyway I took a couple of pictures on the sly and you can judge for yourself when I get back if I was right.
Even though I hated the idea of going one inch closer to that volcano, Frank the National Geo freak insisted and so we toured Herculaneum, one of two Roman towns buried in an eruption twenty centuries ago. Herculaneum was a spa for rich Romans. I had no idea how well those people lived! They even went to the bathroom indoors .
Well, if the vacationing Romans of yore ate half as well as we did for two days, they all must have been happy campers. I can't begin to describe the taste treats! Oyster-stuffed red potatoes. Steamed lobster in a gelatin of tomato and basil, cannaroni with little shrimp in a fennel-and-almond sauce—let me get to the desserts, and trust me my mouth is watering as I type this. Too bad the wild strawberry gelato won't travel, I'd bring home a gallon. And just try to imagine the torta la Zagara, the house speciality at this wonderful garden restaurant in Positano:
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