me try again.” This time, he held the sides of my face, like Angel would, and pressed his lips to mine, even harder.
After a lingering moment, he leaned back with a proud smile. “Now tell me all you want is wine.”
“All I want is wine.”
Sal gasped, stumbling back as if I had shoved him, then almost cried as he asked himself, “Has Sal lost his golden touch?”
Baffled by his comical alarm, I responded, “Gold is very pretty,” and poured wine into his glass. “Sal’s necklace is beautiful.”
I lifted the glass to my lips, but stopped when Sal laid his palm on my forehead. “Maybe you have a fever.”
Ignoring him, and ready for my next lesson, I tilted the glass… My mouth exploded with taste. “Oh…” I licked my lips. “Wow.” I took another sip. “Sal, now this is amazing!”
Appalled, he shrieked, “Not my kiss?”
“Can you teach me how to make the dressing now?”
He snatched the glass from me and filled it to the rim. “After I’m done crying away my shame.”
By the time Angel finally returned, I was—according to Sal—lounging on the kitchen counter. Sitting on top of a tablecloth, Sal had set me up with my very own glass of wine because he was tired of ‘sharing,’ slices of cheese, grapes, fresh bread, and olive dressing to dip my bread in. “Angel!” I celebrated. “Would you like to join my pic-i-nic?”
Even though I could tell he was fighting it, Angel smiled. “Pic-i-nic?”
Pulling lasagna from the oven, Sal chuckled. “I told her about all the picnics she will love back home, and how we spend much time next to the orchards with Ma-Ma’s cooking. Scarlett wanted an example.” He wafted the smell of his lasagna to his nose, using his large hand. Then he moaned in pleasure. Facing Angel again, he explained, “Seeing how we are hanging on the side of the mountain, with no backyard, I improvised.” He winked at me. “Who am I to tell her bare feet on the kitchen counter is frowned upon?”
Angel grabbed one of my feet and squeezed, still smiling. “You can do whatever you want.”
I gasped. “Can I taste you like I tasted Sal?”
During much arguing in Italian, by Sal and Angel, I waited in my bedroom. Once they finally stopped, and it sounded like they had gone to bed, I snuck out. I was desperate for my plastic cup that Sal had in the ‘dishwasher.’ Creeping down the hallway, I heard a sound I had never heard. The curious child in me passed by the kitchen and had me following the beautiful noise.
On the other end of the huge living room with the glass walls facing the serene mountains, Angel was sitting on a little stool in front of a black shiny grand piano, his hands moving up and down the keyboard, face focused. With soft lighting, I watched his body move to the music he was creating. He was alluring and intoxicating. My feet carried me to the sight and sounds like a drug calling to an addict.
Angel didn’t notice me right away, but when he did and saw what I was wearing, he stopped playing.
Quietly, I pled, “Please don’t stop.”
“Please stop wearing his undershirt.”
Without delay and in one swipe, I removed Sal’s shirt, which had become my nightie, and dropped it to the floor. Naked, I demanded, “Play.”
Angel’s mouth gaped, but his hands found the keys and began to move. So did I. Toward the beautiful sound. I laid my hands on the black wood, yearning for the vibrations. When my bare belly touched the side and felt the music, my whole body bloomed with envy. I wanted to feel the magic all over, in my cells, like I was feeling it in my spirit. Maybe it was the wine, but I had no restraint. I slowly climbed on top of the piano and laid on my back, basking in the beautiful sound and feelings they brought out in me.
As Angel kept playing the lovely melody, my eyes slid shut, and I surrendered to the utopia happening inside me. My arms lifted over my head to reach for the maestro soothing my soul. When his face leaned into my hands, I felt high because of the music rushing through me while I touched its creator.
I thought of Sal and how he told me about body orgasms, and I was sure I was having one. It felt that uplifting—like soaring through valleys I’d never seen. And for once, I was carrying