Love Like Ours

They made it into the apartment and were immediately assaulted by heat radiating from the oven. The smell of strong cheese permeated the air.

“So this is where you grew up?” Cristiano asked, looking politely around Mallory’s modest apartment.

Keira nodded. It was a far cry from his parent’s villa in the hillsides of Florence. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the house that looked like it belonged on the pages of a designer furniture magazine. It couldn’t even be claimed that the house was shabby-chic. It was just shabby.

Keira felt the weight of embarrassment pressing down on her. She had worked so hard at school and college specifically to leave this sort of life behind. She worried that the impression Cristiano was getting of her must be a million miles away from what he’d been expecting when he first agreed to get on that plane with her. So much for the high flying reporter from New York City. There was no way of hiding that she’d come from humble beginnings now.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Mallory yelled over her shoulder as she busied herself in the kitchen.

Keira gestured to the table. Her mom had covered it in a weird vinyl table cloth. Cristiano sat in one of the chairs. Keira noticed it wobbling beneath him but of course he was too polite to say anything.

Mallory came over with a steaming dish and placed it on the table. The lasagne was a mess to look at, the tomato sauce bubbling up through the pasta, the cheese burned to a crisp at the edges. It was probably a world away from what Cristiano was used to eating back home in Italy!

“What are those?” Keira asked, pointing at small, round balls on the top.

“Hazelnuts,” Mallory said.

“On a lasagne?” Keira asked, frowning.

“I read it in a magazine,” Mallory replied ambivalently.

Keira felt her body growing heavier and heavier.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Bryn?” she asked her mom.

“I told her seven,” Mallory replied. “She can read a clock. It’s her fault if she’s not here on time.” She grinned at Cristiano and poured a glass of wine for him. “I hope you like rosé.”

Keira hunkered in her seat, remembering how much of a wine connoisseur Cristiano was, how he knew what wine to have with what dish. You didn’t need to be a connoisseur to know that rosé didn’t compliment anything!

Politely, he picked up his glass of pink colored wine.

“To our handsome guest,” Mallory announced, and they all clinked glasses.

Keira was so embarrassed she wanted to disappear.

The door opened then and in waltzed Bryn. Any signs of the hangover she ought to be sufferings were completely gone. Her eyes were bright, her hair clean and glowing, and she’d dressed to impress.

Keira couldn’t help the jealousy she sometimes felt over her beautiful older sister. She had years of memories of boys swooning over Bryn to back it up. The only saving grace was that her sister was a bit on the unstable side. You just wouldn’t know it to look at her. To look at her, you’d think she was a supermodel, all grace and poise.

Bryn sat down at the table with flourish and helped herself to a large portion of lasagne.

“I did an hour and a half in the gym today,” she boasted. “I’m allowed to treat myself.”

Keira couldn't remember the last time she herself had been to the gym. In fact, the last two months had been a blur of eating and drinking. From all the Guinness and fried breakfasts in Ireland, to the pastas and gelatos of Italy, she was quite frankly surprised to have not yet become obese. It was only thanks to all those hills in Italy and muddy walks in Ireland that she’d managed to stay in any kind of shape at all.

“Do you work out a lot?” Cristiano asked Bryn. He seemed interested rather than suggestive, which relieved Keira, although she couldn’t understand why he’d want to know.

Bryn nodded. “Spinning is my main thing. Oh, and climbing. They have a great wall at my local.”

Cristiano looked excited. “I love to climb!”

“You do?” Keira asked, surprised. Somehow that had never come up in conversation.

“Yes,” he said, nodding excitedly before turning his attention back to Bryn. “You will have to take me sometime.”

“I’d love to,” Bryn replied.

Keira cringed. This whole conversation was putting her on edge. She wanted to put as much distance between her sister and Cristiano as possible.

Mallory seemed suitably impressed by Cristiano’s climbing background. “What else can you do, then?” she asked. “Physically?”

“Mom,” Keira groaned. “What kind of a question is that?”

“I like to swim,” Cristiano replied. Then with a wink at Keira, he added, “And dance the night away.”

“Really?” Mallory asked. “Do you Flamenco?”

“That’s Spanish, mom!” Keira cried.

Cristiano burst out laughing. Bryn chuckled too. Even Mallory seemed to find her error amusing. Keira was the only one who didn’t. Maybe Bryn was right about her being uptight?

“So how was your Italian adventure?” Mallory asked Keira, leaning over the table to pat her hand. “Another success?” Her eyes darted to Cristiano.

Keira felt the blush rise in her cheeks. “It was beautiful,” she said, trying to steer the conversation away from the fact she’d instigated another romance and towards the country itself. “The scenery is out of this world. The food is incredible. And the culture!”

“Don’t forget the men,” Bryn added, wiggling her eyebrows.

Keira shot her a look. “Yes, the people are wonderful too. Cristiano took me to meet his parents in Florence. They were super friendly.”

Mallory looked over at Cristiano, impressed. “You’re close with your family?”

He smiled and nodded. “Very. Apart from when I’m working out of town, I see them at least once a week.”

“That’s so nice,” Mallory said, looking down contemplatively at her lasagne. “My girls are always too busy to see me. I’m only a cab ride away but I may as well live in Canada.”

Bryn rolled her eyes. “We’re modern women, mom. We work.”

“I’ve spent about forty eight hours in New York City in the last two months!” Keira added.

Mallory just shrugged, keeping the wounded expression on her face for maximum effect. Bryn seemed immune to that sort of thing, but it always irked Keira. She felt like her relationship with her mom was pretty good. She certainly spoke to her on the phone a lot, and visited her frequently. And it was hardly like Mallory was a lonely old woman sitting at home all day! She may be retired now but she had friends a plenty and all kinds of hobbies to occupy herself with.

“How’s your lasagne?” Mallory asked Cristiano then. “I suppose it doesn’t compare to your super mom’s recipe, does it?”

Bryn just laughed at her mom’s forlorn tone. Keira wasn’t in the mood to mollycoddle her. She responded before Cristiano even had the chance to, attempting to relieve him of an awkward social encounter.

“Of course it doesn’t,” she said. “Our food is completely different. Most of it is imported. I mean the Italian ingredients are so fresh and nutritious.” She prodded her rubbery pasta with her fork. “Even the tomatoes taste different in Italy.”

“But American food is good too,” Cristiano added diplomatically. “Keira and I had bagels for breakfast this morning. It was very exciting.”