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Edo trailed along behind as his mother led Samantha on a grand tour of the castello. It had been four years since he'd made it home, and then it had only been a quick visit for his parents’ anniversary. The place hadn't gotten much better since then. He watched Samantha's eyes light up as she ran her fingers along the exposed brick walls—walls he knew would cost a fortune to heat in the winter. He saw her eyes drift up to the vaulted arched ceilings—ceilings that, again, would greatly affect his heating and cooling bills. Now that he was landlord, he was going to have to worry about things like that.
They passed through the conservatory, with its hundred-year-old piano that would need tuning every year. They went through the library, and Samantha’s delight was probably less a reflection on its furniture—aimed at comfort more than style—than on its floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books in at least fifteen languages. Edo couldn’t help a flicker of pride as he watched Samantha drift around the room, now and then touching her finger to the spine of a book.
Edo’s father clapped him on the shoulder, and Edo flinched.
“She's cute,” his father said. Edo cast a warning glance at his father. He didn't know how much Italian Samantha understood, but she had seemed to understand his mother's declaration of affection for her son earlier. His father grinned. “See,” he said, “You just needed to come home to find a cute girl ready and waiting for you.” Edo checked his watch. Well, he'd made it five whole minutes in the building before his parents had brought up the subject of his dating life. Possibly a new record.
“I'm going to my room,” Edo said. “It was a long flight. Call me for dinner?”
His father nodded. Edo cast one last glance at Samantha. She was glowing like a Madonna from a painting. At least someone was happy to be here.
As Edo turned into his room, he took stock in a way he hadn't on his previous visits. The old football posters would have to go, but he might leave the poster of Monica Belluci. He hadn't really lived in this room since high school. That seemed a lifetime ago. Edo dragged his suitcase in and flopped onto the bed. He was home. If only it felt better.
Right before his eyes drifted shut, there was a knock at his door. His mother entered. “Edo, my boy, you are not going to sleep your first day back, are you?” Edo sighed and sat up. “I was planning to,” he grinned at his mother. “But I guess not.” His mother came and swatted his shoulder with the dishtowel. “Get up silly boy. There is a cute girl in the house. Why don't you help her settle in. I doubt she will want to sleep away her day.”
Edo grimaced. “That's because she slept the whole way here on the plane.”
“Then she was smarter than you.”
Edo couldn't tell his mother he’d been busy dreading coming home. It was not her fault; he was actually excited to see her. And his father, if it came to that. He just didn't want this old heap of a castello. It had always hung over him, an eternal root of heritage that had always been tied to him no matter how far he’d tried to go. “I thought I asked for no guests when I got here,” Edo said. “I wanted a little time to settle in.”
“But this girl could only come now,” his mother said. “And she needed to come to Il Castello Mio. I could feel it.”
There was no fighting one of his mother's feelings. But why now? Why this girl?
As though reading his mind, his mother continued. “She's a good girl, and pretty.”
And there it was. All the reason his mother needed. “I don't need a girl around, however pretty.”
“So you agree she's pretty, then,” his mother said with a grin.
Edo stood. “All right. What do you want from me?”
“Just for you to be happy, of course... and maybe a couple of grandbabies.”
Edo held up a finger. “One more mention of grandbabies, and I will refuse to speak a single word to her.”
His mother flicked him with the dishtowel again. “Just take her for a walk. She wants to know where the grocery store is.”
“Did you tell her it's downtown, near the airport?”
“The market will be just fine. She just wants some simple things for lunches. I told her she must have dinner with us.”
“And will she be paying for that?”
His mother swatted him a third time. “How do you expect me to get grandbabies if I make the girl pay for dinner?” At Edo's warning look, his mother threatened him with the dishtowel. “You asked. Now go.”
Edo went. Even babysitting a tourist would be better than arguing with his mother. If he argued too much, he might not get dinner himself tonight, and that would be a travesty.
#
EDO FOUND SAMANTHA out on the swing. He had a strange flash of warped memory as he watched her blonde ponytail bob where Paola’s dark one used to. The swing had always been one of Paola’s favorite spots at his house; possibly because she liked making Edo push her. She’d also liked when he’d lean in and kiss her when she stopped swinging. Edo shook his head to clear it and went over to Samantha.
When she saw him, she hopped up and grabbed her backpack from the ground. It appeared lighter now, but it still seemed strange to cart the whole pack instead of just a purse. “Sorry to trouble you,” she said, “I tried to tell your mom I could find it on my own, but she assured me you would want to say hello to them as soon as possible.”
A twitch at the corner of her mouth gave away that she knew his mother had pushed him into this. Her acknowledgment made Edo resent her a little less. “Yes, it's been a few years. I ought to say hello.”
They started down the drive together. The birds were singing as always, but too soon, Samantha interrupted them. “Been gone a while?”
“Mmm.”
“Your parents seem happy to see you.”
Almost as happy as they were to see her, though he wouldn't tell her so.
“What brings you back?”
“Long story.”
She sighed. “Are you going to be like this the entire time I'm here?”
She was right. He was being a jerk. But she knew he didn't want to be walking her to the store, so it's not like she should have been surprised. “I'm just tired. I was about to take a nap when my mother came in.”
She looked appropriately contrite. “Sorry you have to babysit me.”
He didn't answer that he’d never babysat someone quite so beautiful, but he did think it. His parents weren't wrong on that front. Samantha's blue eyes could have been captivating if Edo’s mother hadn’t been pushing the girl at him. “It's fine. I should make my body adjust to the time change anyway.”
Samantha skipped ahead a little, twirling around to take in everything she saw. “I bet you've had to do this often.”
“Not as much as you might think. I've only made it back a couple times.”
She cocked her head to the side. “A few times... This year? In the last five?”
“Six.” It really had been that long, hadn't it?
Samantha fell back into step beside him. “That's longer than I expected,” she said, examining his features closely. “Either you went when you were a baby, or you’re older than I thought.”
“Are you calling me old?” Edo couldn’t help but grin.
“Are you?”
“Older than you,” he said, remembering her age, which was several years younger than his twenty-nine. He needed to be careful not to flirt with someone who was practically a baby. He might as well be babysitting.
Samantha shrugged. “I'm used to that. Most people I've associated with for the last few years have been significantly older than me. As long as you're not inviting me to bingo games, I won’t call you old.”
Edo couldn't help grinning. “Aww, but I wanted you to come and be my luck.”
Samantha grinned appreciatively at his response. “I'm afraid I'm not very lucky, but I've played enough to teach you the ropes. For a fee.”
“Oh-ho, trying to work a little side hustle? Do you have a visa for that?”
Samantha did a little skip. “Me? I’m just a baby college student, seeing a bit of the world on my parents’ dime. Someone like me couldn't even come up with something like that.”
He knew instinctively that she was lying about traveling on her parents’ dime. Possibly her grandmother’s though; maybe she had buttered her up over a bingo game. “I'm not so old as to be senile. You’ll have to try harder than that to con me.”
They reached the end of the long drive, and Edo paused to let Samantha take in the options across from them. There was a little corner store, though he didn't know if she understood the sign saying so, and to its right was a butcher's shop. Off to the left there was Giacomo’s auto repair.
Samantha pointed to the store. “An Alimentari has food, right?”
Edo nodded, and they headed across the street. He took a huge breath and braced himself as they walked inside. Sure enough, Alessandra’s cry of welcome just about knocked him off his feet. The older woman wore the same style of floral-print dress and black cardigan she always had, but these days her face held such a mass of smile wrinkles he could hardly find her eyes. She came scrambling around the counter and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheeks. She’d practically helped raise him, living just outside the drive like this, and it was always this way when he came home.
As she chattered on in rapid Italian, Edo glanced at Samantha, who looked totally lost. That was probably good, as Alessandra was going on and on about the days when he and Paola used to come for ice creams. It had been six years since he had left, but in a place like this, where buildings were older than the entire country of the United States, six years meant nothing. In Alessandra's mind, he would always be the boy she had once known—and his name would always be tied to Paola’s.
Eventually, Alessandra noticed Samantha. She looked up at Edo questioningly.
“My parents’ guest,” he explained. “I'm just showing her around.”
Alessandra's grin told him he was in trouble. She reached for Samantha and began patting her cheeks. “Bella,” she said. So lovely.
This was going to start even more rumors than his return had. His mother had probably planned that.
“Ciao,” Samantha said. Her accent wasn't bad. “My name is Samantha.”
“Samantha,” Alessandra repeated, her accent far worse than Samantha's. “Do you speak Italian?”
“A little,” Samantha said bringing her hands together, “a very little.”
This was going to take all day. Edo waved at the shelves. “Just tell me what you need and I can find it for you.”
To his surprise, Samantha glared at him. “How will that help me learn Italian?”
Edo threw up his hands in defense. “You didn't tell me you wanted an Italian lesson, you said you wanted groceries.”
“Of course I want an Italian lesson. Not all of us were lucky enough to be born speaking it.”
“Most of us were not born speaking much of anything,” Edo shot back, “but maybe you were an exception.”
Samantha turned and walked away from him into the shop. Over her shoulder, she tossed back, “Where would your English be if when you had gone to America they had all spoken to you in Italian?”
Edo smirked. “Fluent, as it was before I left Italy.” She didn't have to know that his parents had started him with English tutors at age five, or that he had grown up surrounded at least half of every year by tourists.
Alessandra hurried over to Samantha with a basket. Samantha took it with a smile and quick thank you in Italian, then turned to the shelves, putting her back firmly to Edo. He moved around to where he would be in front of where she needed to go.
“At least tell me what you're wanting to find.”
“Why? So you can get out of here faster?”
Yes, but he wasn't going to admit it. “I'm just trying to be helpful.”
Her only response was a raised eyebrow.
Edo trailed along behind her as she carefully considered each item she saw. At least the store wasn't large; there wasn't much for her to see. He turned at one point to see Alessandra beaming at him. She would likely call his mother later that night to plan his wedding.
“What is this called?” Samantha held up a package of meat.”
“Lunchmeat,” Edo joked.
Samantha rolled her eyes. “In Italian.”
Edo told her, then moved around to get in front of her again. “Why are you buying this? You said you wanted to cook. Lunchmeat is not cooking.”
Samantha pushed past him and kept looking. “I'll need some lunches,” she said.
“Aren't you going to spend your days in the city?” Most people did.
“Yes, but I'll still need to eat.”
“You're going to pack lunches for the city every day?” Edo asked skeptically.
Samantha flushed. “Does it matter?”
If she was embarrassed about packing her lunches, it probably meant she couldn't afford to buy them. She wasn't here on anyone else's dime. Edo knew that look on her face, as he had once packed all his lunches in Philadelphia, too. He didn't feel so bad now about his mother insisting Samantha join them for dinner. “You'll get good dinners at least,” Edo said following behind her. He lifted an apple and held it out to her. “Mela.”
She put it back. “I knew that one already,” she said. “And it was very nice of your mother to invite me for dinner, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll tell her no."
Edo hadn't expected her to be so blunt. “No,” he stumbled, “I don't mind.”
“Don't feel you'll have to translate everything for me,” she said as she added a package of breakfast pastries to her basket. “I want to listen and learn more Italian.”
“Yes, you've made that very clear.” It was nice that she wanted to learn. Plenty of tourists came to gawk at antiquities but cared nothing for the living people or culture.
The door behind them opened, and Edo turned to see who was entering.
A middle-aged woman entered, hauling her own basket, and her face lit up when she saw Edo. Her cloud of short chestnut curls bobbed as she hurried over to embrace him. “Aunt Giulia,” he smiled, enduring the embrace of his father's sister.
Giulia explained rapidly that she'd been to look for him at the house and come to find him when he wasn't there. She'd heard he was coming back, but hadn't realized he'd be bringing a “special friend.” Edo sighed. This was getting ridiculous. His parents hadn't even told Giulia they had a guest?
Aunt Giulia didn't even bother introducing herself to Samantha, just hurried over to gossip with Alessandra, and the two shot many meaningful glances at the younger couple browsing the shelves.
“Look,” Edo said, “you don't have to get everything today. It's practically outside the front door, so maybe you have enough for now?”
Samantha looked surprised until she noticed the way the two older women were giggling at them. Her eyes got a mischievous glint he wasn't sure he was comfortable with. “But Edo,” Samantha said smiling at him flirtatiously, “think how much fun we could have if we stay long enough for even more people to see you.”
That was more than enough of that. Edo took the basket from her and walked quickly to the front. “Alessandra, we're finished. How much?”
“Hey! I wasn't done,” Samantha said, trying to get the basket back from him.
“You’re quite done,” Edo responded, retaining the basket and pulling out his wallet. “How much?” he repeated to Alessandra.
Alessandra took her time counting the items, laughing under her breath as Samantha and Edo fought for control of the spot before the register.
“You're not paying for my groceries,” Samantha insisted.
“I am if it will get us out of here faster,” Edo replied.
With the mischief still in her eyes, Samantha smacked him playfully on the shoulder. Edo flinched. “You're just going to start more rumors, you know.”
She was right, unfortunately, but maybe now she knew he was serious about leaving.
Alessandra gave them the total, and Edo let Samantha pay. Giulia frowned disapprovingly, which was better. Even if Edo did feel guilty about it. He’d have to find a way to make sure she ate with the family a few more times—without giving his mother too many ideas.