To Rome With Love

Dinner with Julie March 2017

Dinner with Julie

March 2017Julie's gaze had softened a bit as I told her the story. My memory of Giorgio, and maybe my telling of how I met him, seemed less threatening than she first assumed. I think I even saw a glint of romance in my daughter's eyes as she concentrated on my account.

“Giorgio was a perfect gentleman.” I felt obliged to reassure Julie at the first. “Despite his obvious self-assurance, he was not forward. He was gentle and thoughtful throughout.”

“Was he as nice as dad?” Julie asked. I always knew that if I told her about Giorgio her first question would be to compare him to her own father. The slight hesitation in her voice brought this dilemma home.

“Both of them are wonderful. But they don't have to be the same.” I had no qualms about defending my dear husband, Ted. He was a wonderful husband and father and, more importantly, my best friend. I wouldn't trade him for the world. And I still ached for losing him.

But, then again, there's Giorgio. And I was having trouble explaining to Julie how I felt about him.

“He had such an easy smile, and he listened to me when I talked,” I began. Giorgio's physical features were etched into my memory, but I didn't think describing his physique or handsome face would make this any easier for Julie.

“I was a young woman,” I reminded her, “but still a woman.” Why I felt the need to point out my femininity – or was it my sexuality? – to my daughter didn't occur to me at that moment. Whenever I was with Giorgio, I was at ease and my words flowed without having to measure them, and it seemed that the same affect held power over me even when I was only talking about him.

“I suppose you went with Giorgio for that glass of wine,” Julie asked, eyes cast down and one finger tracing circles on the tabletop.