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Eddie pulled into the driveway of Micola’s house and came in through the back door. He called out to her from the kitchen.
“I’m here, Eddie.”
He walked down the hall to the living room where Micola sat, hands on her knees, looking anxious.
“How did it go, Eddie? You find my ristorante?”
He shook his head and moved to sit in the chair across from her.
“Not yet. They weren’t right. Dumps, really.”
She nodded, her expression flat. “Oh. I see. Dumps. But ... you look for more? You keep checking, sí?”
He smiled. “Yeah. The realtor’s gotta’ place. She’s gonna’ call me with a time to go look at it next week. It’s more money than we talked about, though.”
She flapped her hand at him. “Eddie, I got money. You no worry about money, okay?”
His chest fluttered with excitement. “You sure?”
“Si, Eddie.” She pulled herself up from the sofa. “Now, I make you breakfast.”
Eddie chuckled as she passed him. “I ain’t gonna’ turn that down.”
Micola placed a hot cup of coffee next to Eddie before sitting next to him at the kitchen table. With his mouth full, he nodded his thanks to her. She leaned on her elbows and smiled as she watched him eat her homemade spinach and mozzarella omelet with toast and jelly. A simple meal, rich and creamy, with a hint of garlic, yet, unique—unlike any other egg dish Eddie had tasted.
After taking his last bite, Eddie wiped his mouth and sat back, his hands resting on the table.
“Let me tell you, Mrs. F.,” he pointed at his empty plate, “you got somethin’ real special here. Too good to be true, know what I’m sayin’?” He gave her a quick chuckle of disbelief as he shook his head. “I’m not kiddin’ ya’. Every dish has been fantastic. Your restaurant? It’s gonna be great.”
Micola smiled. “Thank you, Eddie. You-like-a dream to me. You come here. You give my life a spark. I am nervous about the ristorante. But excited, too.”
“That’s good.”
Eddie went up to his room for a quick nap. His burner phone rang and he was happy to see it was from that beautiful realtor.
“Kate. What’d ya’ find out?”
“Hi Eddie. We can look at it tomorrow morning. I know it’s a Sunday, but−are you available around eight-thirty?”
“Too early, Kate. How about ten?” He listened to her chuckle and imagined her beautiful smile.
“Well, I’d have to confirm that. Tell you what. If you don’t hear back from me, you can assume ten o’clock works, okay?” She gave him the address.
“Yeah. That’s great. Thanks, Kate. I’ll see ya’ tomorrow unless I hear back.”
“Sounds good, Eddie. See you then.”
