“Used market?” Lora asked, recognizing the words.
“Yes! That’s very good!” said Giada.
“It’s a great place to find glasses, cups, furniture, even art,” Vivi said. “Next time we go, we will take you.”
“I would love that,” said Lora. “But to be honest, I don’t know how much stuff I want to accumulate, you know. I am only here for a few more weeks possibly.”
“It’s too bad. I have not seen Andrea like this with anyone”—Giada turned to Vivi—“right?”
“No,” Vivi said, shaking her head. “Affettuoso.It’s weird.”
“Well, you didn’t see him in New York. I am sure he wasaffectionatewith his girlfriend.”
“Ah, you got that word too!” said Vivi.
“I’m trying!” Lora said, placing a brick of vacuum-packed coffee into a cabinet.
“Oh, you mean MissSenza GlutineBut Not Celiac?” Giada laughed as she scanned the empty fridge. “Thank god we brought cheese.”
“No! She was the worst!” Vivi cradled her forehead.
“You met her?”
“Of course! We stayed with him in New York. She said she had to be gluten-free constantly. She would tell every waiter, all the restaurants,” said Giada, finding a small knifein a drawer. Lora took a plate from the drying rack and set it on the counter in front of Giada, who promptly began slicing a small wedge of buttery-golden cheese.
“If Andre try to kiss her, she ask, ‘Did you have gluten, baby?’” Vivi spoke in a high-pitched voice that sounded unhinged with her rasp. “She made him brush his teeth constantly so she doesn’t get contaminated.”
“But then we went to—” Giada broke off, turning to Vivi. She waved the point of the knife asking, “Come si chiama quella pasticceria?With the fat cookies?”
“Levain!” said Vivi, taking a bottle of wine out of the grocery bag. “You have the—?”
“Right here,” said Lora, reaching into the drawer for a wine key and handing it to Vivi. She took three glasses from another cabinet and set them by the giant loaf of bread.
“Yes, we went to Levain bakery. And we buy six cookies, but we put them in a special spot so she doesn’t get sick. And then we come home one day and three of the cookies is smaller.”
“And we think maybe it is nothing,” Vivi added, working the cork out of the wine bottle with a slight pop.
“But slowly they disappear and we don’t eat them,” Giada said, pointing at her and Vivi with the knife.
“We try to tell him, but…” Vivi trailed off. She poured sparkling amethyst-colored wine into the glasses and held one to Lora. “This is Gutturnio. It’sfrizzante, red but sparkling. You’ll like it.”
“So, I’m not surprised that they break up because how could she lie about something like that.” Giada shook herhead. She popped open a jar of tiny, oil-cured olives and set it next to the plate of cheese.
“Who would lie to eat the gluten-free bread?” Vivi made a pained face, pointing at her own masterpiece in all its crusty, glutenous splendor.
“Speaking of, can we cut it soon?” Lora asked, feeling guilty about the conversation turning slightly gossipy. She should have never brought up Andrea’s ex-girlfriend. Hopefully, she could redirect the conversation to carbohydrates. She pulled the largest knife out and set it near the loaf.
“Of course. And I only tell you all of this because I love Andre. He is different, you know? He is loyal. Maybe too much. But he never does anything without his whole heart. If he did this for you”—Giada gestured around the room—“you must mean something. Even if it is temporary.Cin.” She held her glass aloft.
“Cin,” repeated Lora and Vivi as the three clinked their glasses together.
“So. Now tell us more about this research,” said Giada.
“And Switzerland,” said Vivi, sawing into the bread. “Because, I hope you know,fa un freddo cane.”
“It’s cold there, huh?” asked Lora.
“Uff—”
