Italian

When her older sister makes her last attempt to get her boyfriend back, the man twists her plans by inviting her younger sister with them.

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I had an older sister. She was dating with this Italian, who always dressed in white polo shirts. He wasn’t much taller than us, but with beautiful curly hair. Very lovely to look at – not the over macho type, but really, a sweet and friendly man. At the point of the start of the dream I knew I hadn’t met him before, I had no memory of him.

My sister was gorgeous beauty too, with long straight blond hair and very model like. And she loved glossy things, just adored them.

We were in our living room and she told me she wasn’t sure about them anymore and wanted to break it off. Only he had invited her to go to Italy to give their relationship one more chance and she wanted to go.

I wasn’t happy about it, feeling that she was using his trust, but I told myself there was little I could do about it.

The next thing I saw was me standing on the open door of my sister’s bedroom and watching her pack her suitcases. The Italian arrived and stood next to me and we continued watching together, only changing greetings. He was wearing a black jacket which was open from front. He looked upset that she hadn’t finished yet, so I tried to cheer him up by asking questions about Italy. He replied and did it with very calm and charmingly friendly way, though his face was telling another story.

Then we saw my sister drag another empty suitcase out of the bed and we groaned in choir, him for disappointment of not seeing the end of it and me from embarrassment for having such a sister, who packed her entire world with her just to annoy him. She was showing malice and it really shined like diamond.

Suddenly he turned to me, looked at me for a moment and asked if I had a free week-end and would I like to join them on the trip. The packing in the room came to a halt, she also wanted to hear what I say. He can get the tickets, he assured me. I said yes. He looked at the clock and said the plane was leaving in few hours and grabbed the white phone from around the door. I got everything I needed packed right on time.

I only got a glimpse on the plane. He was sitting in the middle row, in the very middle and we sat on his sides. My sister looked on her left, I looked on the right. I think I spent most of the time sleeping, because when I recall seeing them again, they were both angry, but I remained surprisingly calm.

I only remember glimpses from what we did there. It was one of these idyllic Italian houses amongst the vineyard, but I got the idea of it being a small business hotel.

First day there some old lady taught me to make a grape pie. She was showing me how to wrap the dough on the edges of the form or something. I saw nothing else but the hands, her old looking apron and huge wooden board.

In the evening he took me walking between the grapes and I saw field of very soft looking white tiny bells around me – all blossomed wonderfully. I started picking them and he explained from somewhere from my back that it was sort of a weed there. It made him laugh to watch me collect them, but I said they looked wonderful.

On Sunday I saw a huge Estonian choir enter the garden. They were dressed in the folk clothing that was probably from the islands. When they saw me, they were glad to see me and suggested we all dressed up in the folk clothing, so we did. They wanted to celebrate with us and started singing wedding songs. When the solo part came, they stopped and waited me to continue the song. When I refused, they insisted I knew the words. So I did and they caught me up and we went dancing and singing through the local village, which looked more like a small town to me. The Italian was there at that time and he looked shocked, seeing me with them. He asked me later how I knew the dance moves we did there and I explained that they aren’t that hard to master when you already know, which side you pass the partner first. It seemed so out of place that time.

Then came the time to leave. I took the weed punch I had gathered with me and we were already sitting in some open car. The Italian wasn’t around and I felt little sad. My sister was in excellent mood and I was even more worried, figuring she had told him about the breakup. Suddenly he came running around the house corner and pushed a punch of fresh bells in my hand next to the dried ones. He didn’t say anything, but he smiled it made me laugh.

Few months later, it already looked like autumn outside – with all the red leafs and bad wind, the day found me sitting in the kitchen and holding the recipe of the dough the woman had made for the bottom. I remember calling him about it and received a small can of the dough too. For a quick start it said. After that we didn’t meet again before I took a trip on the city with the tram. I was just going on it and he was coming out. I greeted him and he replied. I was already thinking about cappuccino when he suddenly held my elbow and ran side the taking off tram and asked if I’d like to go for a coffee with him one day. I was in hurry, but I agreed.

Few days later we met in the small café on the corner of the business street. He had this huge block of white paper with him. I asked him about something I didn’t understand, when he suddenly pulled himself up on his chair, sitting on the backside of the chair, grabbed the paper punch and wrote on it fast. At the same time he explained me the problem itself. He turns the block around and there are four lines divided on two pages. I read them, concentrated on his talk and nod, without observing the meaning at all. Then he falls expectantly quiet as my shock arrives and his smile widens as I burst laughing. “With all the good we share,” said the first page, “may I kiss you?” said the other.

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