Dinner with Julie March 2017
195 Words
Dinner with Julie
March 2017“Giorgio? Mom, really?”
Julie was never good as disguising her thoughts through careful modulation of her voice. She came across as both surprised and disappointed, maybe even a bit indelicate in her willingness to doubt me.
“I wasn't a young girl, Julie.” Somehow, I felt like I had to defend myself and my time with Giorgio. Julie sat back against the chair and tapped her fork on the plate; she seemed ready to offer some 'grown up' advice to her mother.
“Mom, was that his real name?”
Okay, so that really set me off. I had many fond memories of my relationship with Giorgio and how it had matured and developed, but Julie – with no knowledge yet – acted like I needed a lecture about avoiding swarthy Italians approaching me on a street in Rome.
Hmmm. When I thought about it in those terms, I had to laugh a bit myself.
“Yes, Julie, that was his real name. But there's so much more. Can I tell you about him?”
She paused her fork-tapping and focused on me as I proceeded to tell the story of how I met Giorgio so many years ago and how we fell in love.
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