Free Lost in Rome by Cindy Callaghan

with Aunt Maria and braced myself to be yelled at in Italian.
    â€œWant a bite?” I asked her.
    â€œNo.” She held up the newspaper. There was a picture of me. The headline read, MATCHMAKER AT AMORE PIZZERIA.
    â€œLook. I’m sorry. I know you said not to. You said, ‘ Capisce?’ But then that reporter came in. I matched her the other day as an experiment. And that went really well. She wanted to do an article. She said it would be good for business. And I love you so much and love Amore Pizzeria so much that I couldn’t let—”
    She held up her hand for me to stop talking.
    A few beats later, she broke into a huge smile. Then she pushed a button on the cash register and the drawer flew open. It was full of money. “It worked!”
    â€œSo you’re not mad?”
    â€œI’m furious. But I’m so happy.” She hugged me. “You eat!”
    I was just about to sink my teeth into the sandwich when a customer yelled, “Water! Acqua! ” He grabbed a glass and chugged it, half of it spilling down the front of his shirt. “That sauce! It’s too spicy! Are you trying to kill me?”
    The sauce?
    I touched the sauce on my sandwich with my tongue. “Yowww! He’s right,” I said to Aunt Maria, and grabbed my own glass of water.
    Aunt Maria yelled to AJ, “Where did that pot come from?”
    AJ said, “The walk-in fridge. It’s the batch you made Wednesday.”
    She looked at the bubbling pot, grabbed a spoon, and tasted the sauce. She immediately spit it out.
    â€œSomeone has ruined my sauce,” Aunt Maria yelled. “Who would do that?”

17

    â€œMamma mia!” Aunt Maria shouted. “What happened to the sauce?”
    AJ said, “I’ll take the extra pot out of the fridge and pop it on the stove.”
    â€œDo not ‘pop’ anything,” said Aunt Maria. “Just heat it.”
    â€œThat’s what I meant,” AJ said.
    â€œThen do not say ‘pop.’ I no understand you kids anymore.”
    AJ retreated to the kitchen, while Gianna told the customer that we were making a new lunch for him.
    â€œThe sitch isn’t that bad,” I said to Aunt Maria, who was now fanning herself with an empty drink tray. “We didn’t make any pizza with that sauce yet.”
    â€œâ€Šâ€˜Sitch’?” Aunt Maria shook her head. “Is good we have the extra pot, but that will change the sauce-making schedule. We will run out before Wednesday.”
    â€œWe’ll make more! You can teach me.”
    â€œ Sì! But I need very special ingredients. I go all over Rome to get only the best. It takes time. A lot of places. A lot of time,” she said. “Without the ingredients, I cannot teach you.”
    I looked at my watch. “I’ll go after lunch. Give me a list of what you need and addresses.”
    â€œYou do not know Rome. You will not find these places.”
    I held up my phone. “I have GPS. It works in Rome.”
    She looked at my phone and shook her head. “ ‘Gee peas’? No. You go with Rico. He can follow the map. You know a map?”
    â€œYes, I know what a map is.”
    We looked at Rico sipping another espresso, and Aunt Maria added, “You two cannot carry everything. I make many trips. AJ and Gianna will go too.” Then she waved to Jane, who came over with her arms filled with dirty dishes. “Can you stay with me? I need the help for dinner.”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Jane said. “Anything you need.”
    Rico’s waiter guy lingered nearby and called over to us, “I’ll help too.”
    â€œWho that?” Aunt Maria asked, confused.
    â€œDoes it matter?” I asked. “He knows what he’s doing, and he wants to stay and help.”
    â€œOkay.” Aunt Maria pointed at him. “You stay.”
    He asked, “And I can call mio amico ?”
    â€œ Sì ,”