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“Francesco invited a few of his friends so everyone will be very loud, speaking mostly in Italian. Don’t be scared, okay? I'll try my best to translate everything,” Beatrice said.
“I kind of know what to expect.” I laughed nervously.
We chatted, and it turned out that Beatrice had lived in London for years, studying economics. She’d met Francesco when he came to close some sort of deal with the wholesaler she worked at. Apparently, it was love at first sight, and then he immediately moved to England for her, leaving behind his whole business.
Spencer had me sit next to him at a large table, where at least twenty other members had gathered. The kids were running around, playing by the smaller pool, and Maja was with them. Luca was placed in a high chair, and Beatrice fed him plain pasta and vegetables.
“Who are all these people? Is this your whole family?” I asked Spencer.
“Yes, mostly family. Francesco has five brothers, and some of these men are his cousins. They always invite the extended family if we are visiting.” He placed his hand possessively on my thigh.
“Stop it. We are in public. You need to go back to being nice and gentlemanly, Spencer Banks, because this is highly inappropriate,” I said, then smiled at an older lady who put a huge plate of something that appeared to look like antipasto in front of me.
“Mangia, mangia, carissima,”3 she muttered and walked away.
“What did she say?” I asked.
“That you should eat,” he said.
The cold cuts were delicious, and after I finished the course, Sofia kept bringing more and more food, still talking to me like I understood everything she was saying. At some point, I had to stand and paced for a bit because I could hardly move, I was so full. I went to the pool and watched Maja and her three cousins splashing around.
Spencer had mentioned that Francesco had a vineyard somewhere close. After Beatrice had graduated, they’d all gone back to Sicily to start a family, and nowadays, he was in the export business, dealing particularly in wines.
Spencer’s father, too, was half-Sicilian, and he came to the island almost every summer. That’s how he spoke fluent Italian. Several moments later, the kids got out of the pool, and I got some towels to dry them, then they ran towards the garden. Maja shouted that her cousins had a playground farther down, by the lemon trees.
“Ciao, bella, what’s your name?” Someone startled me.
I turned around and nearly tripped upon seeing a hot shirtless Italian man who had sat at the table earlier. I suspected he was one of Francesco’s cousins who’d been invited today. Beatrice had told me everyone’s name, but I couldn’t remember all of them. The man handed me an icy orange-coloured drink and gestured for me to try it. I didn’t know what to do, so I tasted it.
“It’s Aperol spritz. You like?”
The drink was slightly bitter yet sweet at the same time. It was quite refreshing.
“Grazie, it’s good. My name is Laura,” I replied.
“Bellissima, you Spencer family? Came with him?” he asked in a thick accent.
He came to stand a tad too close to me, so close that I could smell his overpowering cologne. His shorts were drooped below his waist, exposing the top of his pubic hair. My cheeks flushed. Oh dear, these Italians didn’t give a damn.
“I take care of Maja. I'm her nanny.” I had no idea if he understood me or not, because his eyes were now focused on my chest.
In a sudden move, he took my hand and kissed it, then leaned over like he wanted to whisper something into my ear. I was not used to another man touching me like that, especially without my permission, and I didn’t like it.
“Credo che ti devi prendere una pausa, ragazzo. Questo non è un bel modo di comportarsi.Questa donna non ti capisce, quindi scusati con lei. Mentre ora scusati con me per aver toccato cio’ che e’ mio.”4 Spencer appeared next to me like a shadow.
Whatever Spencer said made my new companion angry, because he took a step towards Spencer and snapped, “Ma mi ha appena detto che è solo la tua tata. Allora le posso parlare, no?”5
“È la mia donna e ti stai fissando sulle sue tette, allora sparisci prima che smetto di essere cordiale,”6 Spencer replied with a growl.
I could sense that he was already agitated. He was also a little drunk.
“La tua donna? Ma piace pure a me. Forse vorrà scegliere u veru omu sicilianu,”7 the man said.
I was just about to tell him that I needed to use the restroom because I truly didn’t want to witness any altercation during the family dinner. But then, Spencer growled something incoherent and pushed the guy into the large adult pool. I gasped, freezing. Once more, he was overreacting. When a few members of his family started laughing and talking all over each other, I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. The man finally emerged from the pool, shouting and waving his fisted right hand at Spencer, splashing water everywhere. I was too stunned to react.
“Let’s go. That’s enough of socialising for you today,” Spencer said as he grabbed my hand and dragged me away.
“Wow, hold on. Where are we going? We can’t just leave your family like that.” I pulled out of his grip. “And why did you push that guy into the pool?”
