Page 68 of Better Than Gelato
I snort. Maggie complained long and loud about me abandoning her this year.
I just want to tell you that I am so happy you were born, and my life would suck without you. Hope you are well celebrated today.
I miss that girl.
While I’m still holding my phone it rings, and I know it’s my mom.
“How are you doing? How do you feel?”
I give her all my updates, and she makes encouraging noises. “What a wonderful life you have created for yourself!” she says. Then my dad gets on the phone. He tells me he’s proud of the young woman I’ve become. He gets teary, and it makes me laugh.
“I love you, Dad,” I say.
“I love you too, Juls,” he says. “I hope your day is as amazing as you are.”
It is a spectacular day. I go shopping with Valentina and Carmen at the Sant’Ambrogio market, then Jake takes me to lunch and a soccer game, and in the evening, we head to a restaurant downtown to meet the gang for dinner.
“Benvenuti, tanti auguri!” they yell when they see us.
“Happy birthday,” Paolo says to me in English.
“Your English is as impeccable as your shirt,” I say.
“You are too kind,” he says with a charming smile, switching back to Italian. “How does it feel to be twenty-one years old? You look so elegant and sophisticated, no one would ever guess you’re American.”
I give him an elbow to the ribs and a “thank you.”
We spend the next hour eating and talking. A giant tiramisu lit with candles arrives at our table and everyone starts singing “tanti auguri.” When the singing stops and it’s time for me to make a wish, I can’t think of anything I could want that I don’t already have.
Let this last,I think as I blow out the candles.Let this good thing I’ve found continue.
Jake starts dishing out cake, and Paolo leans in and whispers, “Valentina wanted to make her special Slovakian dessert for you tonight, but I let her know it was against the restaurant's policy to bring in outside food.”
“Paolo, you are a true friend,” I say. “And I mean that from the bottom of my stomach.”
I’ve barely finished my last bite of tiramisu when Diego starts chanting, “Regali! Regali!” and suddenly the table is filled with presents.
“Wow. Thanks,ragazzi,” I say. Suddenly my throat feels a little tight. Six months ago, I didn’t know any of these people, and now, they’re my people.
Jake hands me a gift.
“That’s mine,” Diego calls from the end of the table. I carefully unwrap it and find a silver antique-looking brush.
“Diego, this is beautiful!” I tell him.
“Well, I noticed that you have a lot of hair,” he says. “Then when I was thinking about what to get you for your birthday, I saw this cool brush and remembered all the hair you had, and I thought you’d like it.”
“I love it,” I tell him. When I give him a big hug, I notice that he’s put on some weight. I guess I’m not the only one.
The next gift is from Paolo. It’s a large glossy white box with an elaborate pink bow on top. I carefully lift off the lid to reveal six giant pomegranates nestled in tissue paper. A smile slowly spreads across my face, and I lift one up to show the group.
“You got her a box ofmelograno?” Carmen asks. She looks appalled.
“Pomegranates are my favorite,” I say. “It’s a fantastic gift!”
“Julieta happened to mention Angelo, who she buys pomegranates from near her apartment,” Paolo says. “And I thought, when you know your pomegranate vendor by name, you really love pomegranates.”
I lean over and give Paolo a hug, and he whispers in my ear, “I didn’t want to upset Jake by giving you diamonds.”
