Lost in Rome (15 page)

“What are we gonna do?” AJ asked.

“What we're good at,” Gianna said. “Everyone is going to do what they're good at.”

“I resisted my special skill because
someone
”—I eyed Gianna—“told me it was weird. But I'm matchmaking regardless of what people think.”

“Obviously Maria is awesome at pizza,” AJ said.

“Totes,” I agreed. “Grandfather Mossimo—not so much. But he's got other skills he's not even using.” To AJ I said, “And so do you.” I looked at Rico. His expression said he wanted to hear what he was good at. “You have friends who owe you favors. We're gonna need them.” To Jane I said, “I need a special dress made. Oh, and I'm gonna need that pin board thingy too.”

“What about me?” Gianna asked.

“We're gonna need signs and flyers made,” I said.

“I'm on it.”

I laid out the details of my plan.

The next day we mobilized the plan we'd created last night. I was on Aunt Maria duty.

“You know, Rico told me the story of Beatrice and Dante,” I said as she and I made cannoli filling.

“Yes. You like?”

“I think the ending is sad. And I've been wondering, what do you think would've happened if they'd met again? You know, later, when they were older?”

“I think maybe a love like theirs would not have died. Some love is like that.”

I asked, “Do you know a love like that?”

She pinched the dough together and didn't answer right away. “
Sì
. I have, but that was a very long time ago.”

“What if you had a second chance at it?” I asked.

Aunt Maria gave me a curious look. Before she could respond, AJ stuck his bandannaed head through the opening between the dining room and kitchen. “Match needed at twelve o'clock.”

I looked straight ahead—at the twelve o'clock position. No one was there. AJ didn't know what these positions meant. But it was cute that he tried. “Who?” I asked.

“The girls at table six.”

Table six was not at the twelve o'clock position.

He'd sat the four girls who were in the other day. I remembered the girl with the mouth full of elaborate orthodontics. I thought her name was Riley, and I thought she was the one who was all about bacon. Her hair was pulled back in braids that were as pretty as the ones Gianna could make.

“Sorry,” I said to Aunt Maria. “I'll be right back.”

“
Sì.
You do the matching.”

I approached the girls. “Hi there. Welcome back. So, how did the matches work out last time?”

The leader girl said, “I've been out with Evan three times. Your little pizza voodoo worked for me.”

Another girl said, “I'm going out on a date with Ashton tonight.”

“That's great,” I said.

“But we're here to find a match for Riley,” the leader said.

“Double bacon, right?”

She smiled. She was a very pretty girl.

“You're a tough one, because bacon is so unusual. I'll be back. Let me think for a minute.” I strolled from table to table with a pitcher of water, refilling glasses and hoping I'd get a feeling from someone, but nothing stirred my gut.

That is, until I returned the pitcher back behind the counter to discuss the situation with AJ, who had made himself a big ol' slice of anchovy pizza.

Double bacon and anchovies?

I guess it made sense.

Maybe I hadn't seen it initially because I thought I
like
liked AJ myself.

What does a matchmaker do in a situation like this?

Anchovies didn't go with ham and pineapple.

I knew this.

My gut knew this.

Maybe I just liked him, not
like
liked him.

I said to him, “They asked for bread. And the girl with the braids wanted an Aranciata. Can you bring those over to them?”

He folded the last quarter of his pizza into his mouth and, without swallowing, said, “Roger that.”

I watched. They talked. Riley laughed at something AJ said. I took a cherry from a bowl in the kitchen and ate it, except for the pit, which I blew through a straw and shot at the leader girl.

Bing!

Hit her right in the forehead. She looked at me, and I waved for her to come over.

“What the heck?” she asked, annoyed.

“I need help right away with—with—with—the chocolate mousse pie. I can give you a free slice.”

Her expression brightened. “I love chocolate.”

Who doesn't?

“It's going to melt if it doesn't get eaten, like, right this second.” I ran to the kitchen and got a half-eaten pie out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter with three forks. “Look at that,” I said. “I only have three forks. Which of your friends do you think would want to help?”

Vito pushed a little bell, signaling an order was ready for pickup.

“That's probably Riley's double bacon. I'll bring it to her. Bacon probably doesn't mix well with chocolate mousse pie. Am I right, or am I right?”

“I think you're right. I'll get the other girls,” she said.

“Wait a sec,” I said. I snatched the bacon pizza. “Would you give this to Riley? And this to AJ.” I handed her an orange soda. “I have to get a lasagna out of the oven before it burns, if you know what I mean.”

“Sure thing.”

As I'd hoped, the three girls left Riley alone at the table and sat at the counter around the chocolate pie.

With three empty chairs now at the table, AJ sat. He started showing Riley pictures on his phone. The two of them didn't stop talking, and Riley laughed at pretty much everything AJ said.

It looked like another successful match! I was happy for AJ.

To the three girls devouring the chocolate mousse pie, I said, “I found another fork after all.” I dug into the pie with them.

One of the girls pointed to the basket of letters for “Beatrice.” “Can we look at those?”

“I guess so.” I brought the basket over and took the empty cake plate away.

They unfolded them and read them to each other. “Can I tweet some of these?”

I said, “I guess that would be okay.”

She took pictures of the notes and, with a click, sent them out into social cyberspace. A minute later her phone dinged—dinged—dinged.

“I'm getting tons of comments about these,” she said. “You should start your own Instagram page with these. People love it.”

It was a great idea.

“I'll tell you what,” I said. “If you can do that for me, I'll hook you up with endless chocolate mousse pie for the next few days—for as long as I'm in Rome.”

“Deal!” the girls squealed.

The three of them snapped pictures of the letters.

Then Lorenzo and Gianna came in through the front door. I looked back into the kitchen to see if Aunt Maria was watching. She still didn't like Lorenzo. Her back was turned as she shaped cannoli shells. “What's up, guys?” I asked.

Gianna said, “I came in to tell you that I'm taking the night off.”

“Um—” I started, but she didn't wait for a response. They left holding hands as they walked down the cobblestone alley.

A few nights later, all the prep work for my plan had been completed. There was only one piece missing. I had my biggest—and most important—matchmaking challenge ahead of me.

“Aunt Maria,” I said, “we're going out.”

“Okay, Lucy. Have fun.”

“No. You're coming too.”

“Oh, no. I can't go out with you kids. You'll do all the games.” She wiggled her fingers like she was holding a video-game controller. “And the computers.” She pantomimed a typing motion.

“Uh, kids usually don't work on computers when they go out,” I said. “We're going to sing, dance, and play bocce!”

Aunt Maria clapped. “I love the bocce. I used to play a lot.”

“I'll do your hair,” Gianna said.

“Why? Is the place fancy?” Aunt Maria asked.

“No, we just thought it would be fun to dress up. And celebrate!” I said.

“What should I wear?” Aunt Maria asked.

Jane replied, “I have an idea.”

On cue, Rico held up a flowery red dress.

“It's perfect,” Gianna said.

“It will look great on you,” AJ added.

“It is very
bellissima
,” Aunt Maria said. “How can I say no?”

“You can't,” I said. “Get ready.”

We all walked together into the piazza, which looked different now. The colorful sign for Pizzeria de Roma had been replaced with a
DANZA ITALIANO
sign.

“What is this?”

“Surprise! It's not a pizzeria anymore,” I said.

AJ explained, “They have dancing and singing and indoor bocce.”

We went inside and saw Lorenzo standing at the podium. “Your table is waiting for you,” he said.

We followed Lorenzo to a large round table close to the stage. The lights had been dimmed, the music turned up. AJ didn't even sit down. He walked to the stage and pressed a few buttons on a big piece of stereo equipment—which I guess was kind of video gamey and computerish—and a second later the beat of a popular dance song came on.

Then AJ started singing.
That's
what he was good at.

Okay, so I'll tell you about his karaoke. It wasn't terrible, but he was far from good. It didn't seem to matter, because people of all ages jumped to the dance floor. Even Aunt Maria left her Aranciata on the table and danced. That is, before she froze.

She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

“
Mamma mia!
” she said. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” Mossimo said.

She walked up to him, and they hugged. A tear rolled down Aunt Maria's cheek.

Mossimo wiped it off. “I've thought about seeing you again for a very long time,” he said. “You look exactly the same.”

“Um,” I said to Rico. “How about a game of bocce?” I had never actually played the game, but I wanted to give Aunt Maria some privacy. Rico and I challenged AJ and his new “friend” Riley.

Mossimo led Aunt Maria to a small table in the back corner. I spied as they looked into each other's eyes and talked.

I hadn't been a matchmaker for very long, but if this was what it felt like, I wanted to do it forever. I was so happy to have helped them find each other again—and write the perfect ending to their story.

Pizzeria de Roma's transformation to a singing, dancing bocce club was a huge success. All the pizza lovers in the piazza now came to Amore to eat, then went to Danza Italiano to have fun. AJ's new friend Riley and her three social-media-maven girlfriends maintained our website and also got jobs at the pizzeria for the rest of the summer. Rico and his friends had set up tables and chairs outside so we could offer dining alfresco.