‘Nothing. Just admiring you’ She walked over to our bed and covered her face with her hands and shook her head, hair tousling about in waves. ‘God- honey, I’m so gross right now.’ I pulled her hands away and kissed her reddened cheek. ‘I mean it- you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And what’s more- you’re my wife, and the mother of my child. There is no person in the world more attractive to me than you.’ She blushed even deeper and lifted her mouth to mine in what was intended to be a goodnight peck, but grew into a deep, tounge-tangling kiss, which when finally broken left us both breathless and rabbit-hearted. After 5 years of marriage we still drove each other as crazy as we did when we were teenagers. I started to unbutton the neck of her nightdress when she put her hand over mine. ‘What about the baby?’ she glanced at the wall that separated our room from the nursery and furrowed her brow at the prospect of waking our just barely asleep newborn. I cupped her chin. A dark tanned teenage boy ran down the tock to help us tie up. ‘Ciao!’ he yelled as he was running. Once he saw us, though, he very confidently said ‘Hallo how are-uh you?’ in his well-practiced English. I would have liked to pretend that he somehow saw The Stars and Stripes off the back of the boat but I knew damn well that everything about us screamed ‘AMERICAN’. Oh well. The Italians loved us. ‘If I was any better I just couldn’t stand it!’ I said in a noticeable but not too thick southern accent. He stopped with a slightly confused pause before I smiled with a wink to let him know that my jumble of double negatives wasn’t a bad translation on his part. He smiled back and tied off the last rope. ‘What do you come to Calabria for?’ he asked as he held out his hand to help me out of the boat. ‘Cibo. Vogliono cibo. Lotti. E vino. Lotti.’ I answered not-so-confidently in my not-so-well practiced Italian. I pushed my fedora back on my head and smiled as I patted my belly. My.
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