Sunday on the Terrace - Title TBD

I followed Alessandra up to the terrace as her Blue Russian cat, Regalo, hurried behind me. The French doors leading out to the patio were open, many guests had arrived, chatting, chiming glasses. The terrace garden was healthy, vines laying across the wood awning hung like weeping willow and there was a fountain where wrens perched, bathing, shivering water down their backs. I pulled back the white wrought iron chair with a white seat cushion tied in neat bows at the back of each corner of the chair.  The table was set proper, but not pretentious and I could smell the tapas warming in the chafing dishes on the table. I noticed the iced Sangria in a clear glass jug with grapes, sliced apples and oranges swimming around. As I reached across the table for the Sangria I saw Angelo.

 

“I didn’t know he would be here,” I whispered in Alessandra’s ear.

“I know, Henry and I ran into him at dinner last night and invited him to come by. You know, it’s been a long time and I didn’t think you would mind,” she said placing her hand on top of my hand resting heavy on my knee.

“Right,” I said nodding, “Sure, I’m fine.”

 

It had been a long time, but somehow looking at him again across the room had my heart beating faster and my breath shorter. He sat back, casual, confident with his white shirt, sleeves rolled up revealing his olive skin, evidence of his quarter of Italian heritage, on his mom’s side. The quarter he use to like telling me about on his balcony under the stars, over a glass of red wine. He’d tell me the story of how his nonno (grandfather) lived along one of the salt water canals in Venice and how he’d met his grandmother Rose, an American travel writer, passing one day by way of gondola. He use to tell me how people went to Venice to find love, the kind of love we had and how one day we’d go there to see where his grandparents fell in love.

 

We were in love, like two magnets one marked positive and the other negative. No matter how much people tried to pull us apart we’d just cling back together, but things change. We were in our mid 20’s and our friends were single. There’s something about two people being in love and happy that pisses people off and so our relationship ended. 

 

Now, here he is, a man I thought I’d forgotten, sitting back, talking cool, tousled hair, green eyes, shirt loosely unbutton and just the right amount of chest on display. An amount which causes even the most confident, beautiful woman to politely excuse herself from the table to go to the ladies room, tousle her hair and make sure her lips are plump and wet with lip gloss, but  not me. I was smart and had checked my appearance in the large mirror in the foyer. I thought I looked pretty, but now seeing him I’m not so sure.

 

“How have you been Sophie?” Natalie said to me from across the table, then took a bite of her salad.

“I’ve been really well.”

 

She began telling me about her life, her new marriage, how wonderful it was and I began to fade into a dream state. I didn’t mean to be rude, but it was hard to focus. I nodded and said, “I’m so happy for you.” I was happy for her, happy to be alive, happy to have the sun warming my cheeks and the wind blowing cold against my skin.

 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I said.

“Your hair looks so pretty. It looks auburn in the sun, have you highlighted it?”

“Nope, natural. I think it just looks lighter in the sun.”

“Hmmm, natural. Looks good.”

“Thank you,” I said and then tasted a bite of my tortilla espanola. 

 

Drinks were being poured, arms reaching across the table, plates being passed, smiles, laughter, then amidst Angelo's face disappearing then appearing from site our eyes met. I glanced in his direction then looked down, then back to see him mouth the word, hi. I answered back, hi, with an open hand, then folded my hand back to lie on my lap. I knew I’d replay that hi a million times in my mind trying to figure out what it meant. Decode it as if it meant he missed me and he was sorry we ever parted, but I knew men. I knew they meant very well what they said and that a hi was simply a hi, but then he gave me something more to think about. He mouthed, how are you? I nodded and said, “Good.”

 

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