Home to Italy by Peter Pezzelli Page A

corner of the shop.
    â€œBut what’s he going to do?” said Ralph. “Where’s he going to live?”
    â€œHe says he’s gonna stay with Luca for now,” Tony replied. “Other than that, I guess he’s gonna wait and see.”
    â€œWait and see what?” said Gino. “He should get back on a plane and come home. What’s to keep him there?”
    â€œThat’s probably what he wants to wait and see,” said Tony.
    At that they all sat back once more and sulked in silence. The bell on the door jingled and a customer walked in for a haircut. Tony put on a smile and welcomed the gentleman. As he went to work, the others went back to reading the morning newspapers.
    â€œThe mulino,” said Ralph, scanning the obituaries. “Destroyed. Can you believe it?”
    â€œI can believe it,” said Gino, opening up the sports section. “That’s just Peppi’s luck.”
    â€œYeah,” muttered Sal. “But you know what the worst part is?”
    The other two looked at him and shrugged. Sal shook his head and picked up the front page.
    â€œNo polenta”—he sighed as he began to read—“with the sausicc’… and the rabes.”
    Sal looked up just in time to get hit in the face with the towel Tony had flung at him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    In the dream, Peppi saw Anna. Dressed all in white, she was standing far away from him across a great body of water. Despite the distance, Peppi felt that she was near to him in that way that’s only possible in a dream. Happy, he waved and called to her.
    A fierce gale was blowing now and the wind whipped the spray off the tops of the waves. Anna, her hair tossed wildly across her face, waved and called back to him. He could see that she was trying to tell him something, but try as he might, Peppi could not hear what she was saying. The waves swelled up, forcing Peppi to climb higher, but slowly Anna disappeared from sight.
    When Peppi opened his eyes he found himself looking at the picture of Anna he kept on the table by the bed. He reached out to it and let his finger trace the outline of her face. His touch lingered there for a time before he finally sat up and looked over to the window where a soft warm breeze was nudging the drapes. The first rays of the morning sun splashed intermittently across the room. Slowly Peppi rose out of bed and walked across the floor. He pushed the drapes aside and opened the window.
    Up the hill behind Luca’s house, the rooster was making his usual morning commotion. Peppi yawned and gazed down below at the little courtyard behind the building. In the middle was a stone bench beneath an old arbor strangled by a sprawl of dry, withered grapevines that had been left untended for years. They would not stay withered for long, however, as it was obvious that the first hints of spring were in the air. Soon they would start growing again with renewed, if haphazard vigor.
    Peppi let his gaze fall over the gardens that bordered the courtyard. Like the grapevines, they too lay in tangled disarray, the result of long neglect. Peppi understood how things had been allowed to degenerate into their present state. Gardens required much time and attention, both of which he knew were in short supply in Luca’s busy life. Luca might easily have hired someone to take care of it all for him, but Peppi also understood that Luca was one of those men who felt that if life conspired to prevent them from doing certain things, then perhaps those things were best left undone altogether.
    As Peppi looked over the scene it occurred to him how much the courtyard and gardens reminded him of his own backyard in America. He felt a familiar longing tugging at his heart. The early spring had always been a time when Peppi itched to get outside, to clean away the dead remnants of winter and make way for new life to appear. He loved to plunge his hands into the soft earth, to feel its cool