once she’s shut off the engine. “Welcome to la casa grigia.” She pushes open the driver’s side door, and it squeaks loud enough that I wince. Then she slams the door so hard, the entire car quakes, and I wince again.
Carter turns to look at me. “That was scary.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I make a little face. “She’s a mad woman behind the wheel.”
He says nothing else. Well, nothing else I can hear, because I’m pretty sure he’s muttering under his breath as he climbs out of the car. I follow him, both of us approaching the fence made of weathered driftwood that surrounds her front yard, and he spots the wooden sign hanging from the front of the arbor gate.
“La casa grigia,” he murmurs.
“The gray house,” I interpret for him.
He scans the front yard as he opens the gate for me, and I walk along the stone path that leads to the front porch. The yard is my nonna’s pride and joy, filled with dense plants and flowers, and giant succulents that are as big as my face spill from the window boxes. It’s a huge undertaking. Maybe too much now that she’s gotten older.
“This is beautiful,” he says as he follows me.
Nonna has unlocked the front door and is already inside the house. I enter with Carter behind me, and he reaches out, sliding his fingers down the door. “It looks like a fairytale.”
“Most of the houses around here are in a cottage style,” I tell him.
“It was built in 1947,” Nonna says as we enter the living room. The ceilings soar, the walls are wood paneled and painted the palest blue, and one entire wall is dominated by a massive stone fireplace. “We moved in 1954, right after we got married.”
“My grandpa’s name was Francesco,” I tell Carter, to keep him up to speed. “But everyone called him Frank.”
“I lost my Frank in 2002,” Nonna says, her voice full of regret. “I miss him so. To this day, I wish he were still here, yelling at me to clean up the mess I made outside.”
My heart pangs for Nonna, and I go to her, wrapping her up in a big hug. “I’m sure he smiles down upon you every day.”
“Or curses at me for doing so many silly things.” Nonna pulls away and then waves her hand at Carter. “Come see the kitchen.”
The house may be a cottage and only 1,700 square feet, but every square foot is utilized to the max, with the exception of the kitchen. It’s small, and old, and could definitely use some remodeling. Even I can see that.
“How many bedrooms?” Carter asks as he looks around, grimacing when he opens the oven door and it squeaks.
“Three bedrooms, two bathrooms.” Nonna pauses, watching as Carter explores the kitchen, stopping in front of the window to stare out at the small backyard and the ocean view just beyond the fence. “There are two bedrooms downstairs and the master suite is upstairs.”
“Can I see it?”
“Take your time, walk around. Look your fill.”
Before Nonna can get the last word out, Carter is already gone, examining the house.
“He seems like a nice young man,” Nonna says to me.
I point at her. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Who, me?” She rests a hand on her ample chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re just friends.” Who had sex once. “It would never work between us.”
“How do you know it wouldn’t work if you haven’t tried? Trust me, the best sort of relationship starts out as just friends. What a wonderful way to figure out if you’re compatible or not,” Nonna explains.
“Is that how you and grandpa fell in love?” I ask.
“No, it was a passionate affair. I fell madly in love with him over a weekend.” She shakes her head. “Once we were in love, we realized we could be friends too. The very best of friends. It was perfect.”
She makes their early relationship sound so romantic. I’m sure it was.
“Love can start in many ways. All encompassing. Fast and passionate. Slow and thoughtful. We each fall in love at the pace we’re meant to,” Nonna explains. “But once you have each other and you want to spend every waking moment together, that’s when you know.”
“You know what?” I ask.
“That they’re the one,” she says simply.
I want that. A perfect love. A best friend and a lover. Someone to laugh with and have serious conversations with. Someone to kiss and hold and be sweet and tender one