Free The Supreme Macaroni Company by Adriana Trigiani

his best friend, Val.”
    “What happened up here was a little more than friendship.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Bret was so upset he cried. I’ve never seen him cry. Ever. So I hugged him, and then he kissed me.”
    “Where?”
    “Here.”
    “No, I meant cheek or lips.”
    “Both. Gianluca came out onto the roof and saw everything.”
    “I knew something was up when I was packing up the timbale. Gianluca came down to the kitchen and went to the windows and stood there.”
    “Did he say anything?”
    “I tried to make small talk, but he didn’t hear me. Or he was ignoring me. Then Bret came through and went down the stairs without saying anything to Gianluca.”
    “I wish they would have spoken.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I love them both. I mean, I really love Gianluca, you know, as a wife, but I’ve known Bret since we were kids, and he was devastated.”
    “So now two men are devastated on your behalf.”
    “No, everything is fine with Gianluca.”
    “I’ll bet.”
    “Don’t make me feel worse.”
    “What you ought to feel is lucky. Gianluca still asked you to marry him after he caught you kissing another man? He’s a man of steel, that one.”
    “He said he understood. You see, that’s why I have to marry him.”
    “You make it sound like an ultimatum.”
    “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I love him and I want to marry him. I can see myself getting old with him.”
    Gabriel let out a long sigh. “Are you going to have children?”
    “I’d like one.”
    “One? The man is Italian. They have a farm mentality. He’ll want six.”
    “He’s a tanner, not a farmer.”
    “Where do you think leather comes from? You need cows. And a cow lives on a farm. Besides, he’s a man. He’ll place the order, and you’ll deliver. Trust me. He’ll want a few.”
    “But he only has Orsola.”
    “Fluke.”
    “Can you believe I’m going to be a stepmother?”
    “I hope you turn evil. They’re the only interesting ones. You ever met the first wife?”
    “No.”
    “I bet she’s a piece of work.”
    “I have no idea.” Actually, when I agreed to marry Gianluca earlier this evening, the farthest thing from my mind had been that I was going to be his second wife. Clearly his first wife was not a keeper, and here I was, attempting to be the one who would last. I wondered if I had the goods or if he did.
    “How are you going to do this?” Gabriel looked up at the sky.
    “Do what?” Now Gabriel had me nervous, like I might have to actually address the situation with Mirella, the ex.
    “Marriage and the shop and the shoes and Roberta and Argentina and me.”
    “I’m getting married, I’m not dying.”
    “Are you going to live in New York?”
    “Of course.”
    “You discussed it?”
    “No, but he knows the deal.”
    “Oh, you sad, naive girl. Men never know anything. They have to be told.”
    “Seriously?”
    “He’s probably got ideas of his own about where he wants to live.”
    “I can’t live in Italy.”
    “You might have to, at least part-time.”
    “I can’t! I took my brother on as a partner to hold on to this business and this building.”
    “I’m not the one you need to negotiate with. You have to talk to Gianluca.”
    Gabriel has a funny way of going round and round with me and getting to the pith suddenly and without intention. I hadn’t asked Gianluca any of the hard questions, so I really didn’t know why I thought my marriage with him would work more than, say, his marriage with his first wife. I know that these were the things I should have focused on, how to proceed with my creative life while also taking on the new role of wife . But that night wasn’t a typical night. It was Christmas Eve. There was a big family party and a whopper family fight. There was no long, intense conversation where we shared our dreams for the future. I washed dishes, we drove Aunt Feen home, and he dropped me off. It was a night full of revelations and strange surprises and not