155 - Mambo Italiano

It was midnight when they landed in Milan and close to two a.m. by the time the private car, she hired arrived at the cozy little home she’d rented. She didn’t want to bother with a hotel; they stayed in enough of them as it was. No, she wanted this to feel like home. A place where they could cook if they wanted or get up in the middle of the night for a snack, and all they had to do was walk down the hall to their very own refrigerator. The small three-bedroom house was just that. When you stepped out of the red painted front door and onto the cobblestone street, you were within walking distance to the town’s local markets and cafés, the city’s large public squares, or their favorite little restaurant, which was right around the corner. 

 

Torino, known as Turin, to most English speakers, was a hidden gem in Northern Italy that sat on the banks of the Po Rivera, with the majestic Alps as a backdrop. A true authentic working city, it was not a tourist dependent one. Ariana first stumbled upon Turin in 1990 after she left Jon standing on the beach and again at the beginning of the Keep the Faith Tour, when she needed to escape him yet again, along with the rest of the world. You would think this city held terrible memories for her, but it didn't. This was also where they came during the Destination Anywhere Tour with some of the crew when they had a few days off. It was a bittersweet time for her. In all the years she’d worked for him, it was the first time she had to do it alone. Just months before the tour started, he had dropped everything to be by her side when Sal had succumbed to a heart attack. It took a week for him to get her out of bed and in true Ariana form, she left in the wee hours of the morning while he slept. She was still trying to cope with that loss when Jon showed up at Pettit Soho and persuaded her that work was what she needed. 

 

Since arriving in Italy a week ago, they spent most of that time walking around this beautiful city as if they lived here. Jon woke every morning and went for his run while she slept in. He usually woke her with the aromas of fresh pastries and coffee he picked up at one of the local cafés or with gentle kisses along the back of her neck that soon turned into a round of their morning lovemaking. 

 

Afterwards, they'd spend the day taking in the history the city offered. Another reason she loved it here. They could come and go as they pleased. Whether you were some joe-schmo or some globe-trotter, here in Turin you were never treated as a tourist, only as a Torinesi.  

 

Being the history buff that he was, Jon couldn't wait to venture out each day and explore. And as trying as it was for her, she let him suck up as much as he could. After all, this trip was about him relaxing and if this did it, by all means she would try to seem a little bit interested. To some degree she was, her paternal grandparents immigrated to America from Naples as teenagers. 

 

Every day they would pick a new museum or head back to one that they hadn’t finished because she had grown tired. They learned in 1861 the city became the capital to the newly proclaimed United Kingdom of Italy and remained that way till 1865, when the capital was moved to Florence. In 1870, they moved the capital again to Rome, and that it was home to the House of Savoy, one of Italy’s royal families dating back as far as the 11th century.  

 

But Turin wasn't just known for its history. It was headquarters to automobile manufacturers - FIAT, Lanica, Alfa Romeo and Iveco and because it bordered close to France, it combined the culinary arts of the two countries. And who could forget Aperitivi, Torino’s version of Happy Hour. After a long day of work, the people of Torino met up at the local bars, some bars having people spilling out onto the street. The bars would pour local red wines and some of the best martinis. Using, of course, local vermouth, Martini and Rossi.  

 

Wine, who can forget that. Piedmont was one of Italy's premier wine regions. Featuring one of Italy's 'noble wines' Bartolo, which was another reason she came here. After some impeccable research by Jeanie, she learned that just a quick trip away was where his beloved Santa Margherita originated and unbeknownst to him, she had arranged for a private touring and wine tasting. For him, that was, there would be no wine tasting for her.

 

They spent their evenings having a quiet dinner at the little cafe they fell in love with years ago. Carmela, the sweet little Italian woman, still owned it, though her three sons, under her watchful eye, ran it. The first night they went in for dinner, it surprised Ariana that she actually remembered them.  

 

Carmela had greeted them with open arms like it was just yesterday they had been there. She rubbed and kissed Ariana's stomach, then pinched each side of Jon's cheeks and said she could never forget a face such as his beautiful with mischievous eyes. As she did all those years ago, she spoiled them with huge, delicious meals every night, followed by Ariana's favorite dessert. Zabaglione. The best zabaglione she’d ever tasted. No one made it like Carmela, and just as he promised on the plane, Jon would ask for his to go every night. 

 

"Wakey. Wakey, Crash." Jon nudged her bare shoulder with his sweaty brow. 

 

"Mmm." Ariana tugged the sheet up over her head. "Few more minutes."

 

"Nuh-huh. We have places to go, things to see."

 

"Ugh. Not another museum." She buried herself deeper under the covers and pillows. "We've seen them all, some even twice. I'm declaring today as a stay in bed all day, day."

 

"Hey, what did you expect when you brought me here?" Slapping her on the ass, Jon stood. "Suit yourself. The car will be here in twenty minutes, if you care to join me."

 

"What." She flapped her arms and untangled herself from the sheets just in time to see Jon's naked ass disappear into the bathroom. 

 

"You're not the only one who has a thing or two up their sleeve." he called, closing the door, "twenty minutes, sweet cheeks."

 

What and when did he have a chance to plan anything? 

 

The only time he had his phone was when he called the kids each night before they went to bed or the two times Paul needed him. Other than that, she hadn't seen him on it. Pulling her fingers through her mousy curls, she shook her head. 

 

Guess I'm getting up and going on an adventure today. 

 

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the back of the car she hired, and it was her turn asking the questions. 

 

"Where are we going?" She dragged her nail over the seam of his blue jeans. 

 

Wrapping his fingers around hers, he set both their hands in her lap. "Nice try."

 

"C'mon. It's not nice to sneak things up on a pregnant woman."

 

"Ha!” he grunted. “That's low even for you."

 

Ariana let out a huff and leaned forward, smiling up at the man behind the steering wheel, “Mi scusi. Poteto dirmi quanto tempo ancora. Ho bisogno di usare il bagno."

 

Smiling back at her in his mirror, the young man answered, "Si, signora. Dobbiamo essere in aeroporto in pochi minuti."

 

"Grazie." She scooted back and made herself comfortable against him. "Hmm. The airport, Mr. Bongiovi. What do you have up that sleeve of yours?"