Lure of the grapes, p.17
Lure of the Grapes, page 17
Mike blinked. “Why do you assume he doesn’t love you now, may I ask?”
“This person named Saverio told me he loves Sheila, funny isn’t it? Same name as your wife,” Akala said.
But when she looked at Mike, she wondered about everything she was telling him, for Mike’s eyes stared without blinking.
“I am sorry,” Mike said, “but may I inquire as to why you believed Niccolò loved you initially?”
“Sure. Niccolò told me so. Of course, we were doing a play, I guess.” She shrugged. “And he promised to let me see the sheep on his mother’s farm, but he didn’t do that, yet. In my opinion, he truly adores the farm, his mother’s vineyard.”
Akala smiled, because she loved the farm, too.
“And,” Mike said, “do you have the same feelings for Niccolò?”
“Well, yes, I do!” she laughed.
“Perhaps you should tell him. At least it would bring peace to your heart.”
“Perhaps.”
“You know what else is funny?” Mike asked. “Saverio told me the same thing. That Niccolò loves Sheila, my wife, but Sheila has been to the Cathedral of Fiorella with me several times. She does not like farms, at least, she has never expressed an interest to me. I just don’t see the connection between them. Her friends are lawyers and fashion designers. How would they even connect with each other? I may not be the most interesting, intelligent person in the world, but we share a love of beautiful things.”
“You know Saverio?” Akala asked.
“Saverio knows Sheila’s rich friends.”
They both pondered it.
Finally, Mike sighed. “Perhaps I can help you with this play?” he said. “And I can give you some pointers!”
“Really? I cannot thank you enough!” she answered.
“Okay, tell me about the play.”
“It’s a lot like we are just discussing. A woman who must escape the rejection of others and finds a man who accepts her. I am looking for a better ending to a different story, one in which the woman cannot please anyone and at the end, she scrambles some eggs and gives up on life.”
Mike studied her. “Perhaps,” he said, “you are looking for a better ending for your own story?”
“Yes!” Akala admitted and became lost in contemplation. He waited.
“What is going through your mind? What can you do to make this play authentic? To reveal who you are - without a mask? Even if you are, in a sense, wearing a mask!”
Akala felt surprised and excited by these ideas.
“Perhaps she encounters different people as she is leaving the life she knows,” Akala said. “I would like to aspire to be someone like this beautiful doll.”
Akala picked up a doll with a beautiful dress, embroidered with flowers.
“Even if it is not the most beautiful, it is still lovely!” Akala said excitedly as she picked up another.
A sense of liberation came as she brainstormed her creative work.
“And then at the end, how will I express my emotions to Niccolò?”
“Communicate your sentiments to him as directly as possible. Don’t just hope that he will understand, you must say it.”
“You’re right! I will tell Niccolò how I feel! I will say, ‘I found a man that understands,’ or that I figured he understood. While he shows me the sheep or something, that way, he will understand that I am speaking of him!”

After the strange encounter, Niccolò walked to his mother’s house from Bagno a Fiori. He had not found Zio and assumed now that it was just a ploy to rob him. How Saverio was involved, he was not sure, especially since the hitman had mentioned this Sheila person. He held his jacket in hand, and tried to walk slowly, to clear his mind.
Niccolò’s mother was already asleep when he got to the darkened house, so he fell into the couch and fell asleep himself, disheveled and sad.
In the morning, when he detected the aroma of breakfast, Niccolò walked into his mother’s kitchen. It was early, and as usual she was cooking.
“Buon giorno, Niccolò,” Josephina said.
“Buon giorno, Mamma.”
“Akala is not here?”
“No. Can you milk the sheep, Niccolò?” Josephina asked. “I have not had time as I have had to entertain the lawyer.”
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, irritated, but he knew she was not irritated at him. Niccolò studied her.
“The lawyer is here already?”
“It is the anniversary of your father’s death,” Josephina said.
She seemed sad after saying this, which seemed to mirror Niccolò’s own sentiment. He looked toward the driveway and his heart sank. He lacked confidence this year.
“Akala disappeared last night,” he said. “That is why I asked you about her, Mamma.”
“Actually, Akala never came home last night,” Josephina replied.
“Why?”
“I am not sure,” Josephina said. “You know she often stays in Fiorella.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right.”
“We will eat in one hour, Niccolò. If you can get the milk, I will make cheesecakes. One for tonight, and one for us, now!”
She smiled at him. The cheesecake was Niccolò’s favorite dessert, and she made it as a comfort to him.
Niccolò’s Favorite Cheesecake
3 ounces milk (85 ml)
3 tablespoons butter (40 grams)
4 ounces cream cheese (115 grams)
4 eggs, divided
⅓ cup flour sifted with 2 T cornstarch (45 grams flour with 15 g cornstarch)
1 teaspoon lemon juice or almond extract
⅓ cup sugar (75 grams)
Heat milk, butter, and cream cheese in a saucepan until butter is melted, stirring constantly. Turn off the heat and let cool.
In a separate bowl, stir the egg yolks until smooth and add the butter mixture. Add the sifted flour and cornstarch. Last, add the lemon juice.
In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer.
When the egg whites are whipped and bubbly, add the sugar in increments, whipping each time until soft peaks are formed.
Add the egg white meringue to the egg yolk mixture in small increments, mixing well each time.
Line a 9” pan with wax paper, then brush it well with butter. Pour the cake batter into the pan. Place on a pan of hot water (optional). Bake at 180 degrees celsius (350 F) for 5 minutes or 110 degrees celsius (300 F) for 30 minutes.
Grape Sauce
2 cups grapes (300 grams)
3 tablespoons sugar
In a saucepan over medium heat, put the grapes, and cover with a lid. Boil 15-20 minutes. Mash if desired.
Pour the grape pulp through a strainer and collect the juice.
In the sauce pan over low heat, combine the juice and sugar until the sugar is dissolved.
Serve over cheesecake and enjoy!
Niccolò found himself nervous as he milked the sheep outside. The day already felt hot, and Niccolò had not adequately prepared for what lay ahead. Nothing seemed to go right. Even though Niccolò had prayed for the things to turn out well with the vineyard, he worried that there was no sign of the money he lost. And of course, Akala had disappeared.
Niccolò walked into the barn, and the sheep seemed nervous as well. They were not friendly as usual and the rabbit in the next stall hid from him.
Niccolò milked the skittish sheep and all he could think about was how he told Akala that he would show them to her. Why, he wondered, would Akala leave so suddenly for someone else?
At the sound of a shuffle of grass beneath someone’s feet, he looked up, hoping that it was Akala. There stood Zio. Niccolò took a deep breath.
“How glad I am to see you, Zio,” Niccolò said.
“Did you bring the money?” Zio asked.
Niccolò looked down. “Someone robbed me last night.”
Zio looked at him, concerned. “Niccolò! Are you okay?”
Zio was always a rock. Niccolò could trust Zio to be calm when things were chaotic.
“Yes, but the money is gone. What am I going to do?”
“We will tell the lawyer the truth,” Zio said, “that you had the money, but someone robbed you.”
Niccolò thought for a moment, then he nodded in agreement. He looked back to the sheep and finished milking.
“Akala really wanted to see the sheep, but I did not get the chance to show her, yet.”
“Maybe you will still have the chance,” Zio answered.
“Perhaps she is not interested in me.”
“Why would you say that? Perhaps she needs insight into your emotions.”
Zio smiled as Niccolò finished the milking. Zio waited for him, and they walked together with the bucket of milk to the house.
Josephina had already separated the eggs into two separate bowls. She would beat the eggs whites but first, she heated the fresh milk they brought her with butter and cream cheese. After beating the eggs and sugar, she added the flour and cornstarch with the milk mixture, then mixed both parts. She poured all the ingredients together into a pan and put it into the oven.
The three of them held hands after that and Zio said a prayer that it would all work out the way that God wanted it to.
Niccolò’s confidence increased after the prayer. He helped to set the table in the dining room, putting the plates on the table and meticulously setting silverware around. He remembered how to do this from the days they had guests at their farmhouse. He had been quite young, but he remembered it well and how it instilled in him a love for the finer things. He set out carafes of juice, one homegrown blueberry juice and the other grape juice. And another carafe of sparkling water. Josephina brought the omelette of pine nuts, basil, and raisins, topped with shredded parmesan cheese. She had made bread already that week and spread it into a basket. Beside it was a tray of homemade soft, sweet cheese to spread on the bread as well as butter.
He could see the lawyer speaking to Aurelio on the couch. Niccolò’s stomach hurt, and he wished Rocco was there to support him.
Josephina came out from the kitchen. “Please,” she announced, “come and eat the omelettes.”
The lawyer and Aurelio came to the dining room. Niccolò, Zio, and Josephina stood until the lawyer set down. The lawyer seemed as uneasy as the rest of them. To Niccolò he looked proud.
Niccolò found it difficult to harbor negative feelings towards him, as he acknowledged that it was the man’s duty to oversee the inheritance of the vineyard and guarantee its rightful transfer.
The rest of them sat down at the table. Niccolò sat between his mother and Zio. Aurelio and the lawyer sat across from them.
“Let us pray,” Zio said.
They all folded their hands, and again Zio asked that God’s will be done. They all seemed to agree.
“Isaiah 30:21,” Josephina read, “When you go to the right or when you go left, your ears will hear this word behind you: ‘This is the way; walk in it!’”
The words comforted Niccolò, as usual.
“Let us eat,” Josephina said.
They ate the omelettes almost in silence as Aurelio told the lawyer about the land around the vineyard. They all listened as Aurelio explained the pH balance of the soil.
Afterwards, as they drank their coffee, with the scent of the cake wafting in from the kitchen.
“The cake is ready!” Josephina said, “I will get it.”
She brought the cake to the table with a spatula to serve it. The small plates were already set at their places. They all ate the cake slowly, as though they wanted to hold off on the business aspect of the morning. Even the lawyer seemed to dread it.
When they had all finished, Josephina cleared the dishes.
“Let’s get down to business,” said the lawyer, in a low voice which seemed to slur all the words together. This added to his calm demeanor. He pulled out a large envelope, sealed with a wax stamp. He opened it and sighed, as though it was an arduous undertaking. The lawyer cleared his throat and read:
“My son, by the time you read this, I will be gone. Still, I must tell you something.
“Your mother has agreed to oversee the operation of our beautiful farm for the next five years. Whoever overtakes the vineyard, and I hope it is you, Niccolò, will take care of your mother financially. My son, I want nothing more than to see you make a better life and begin trusting the Lord. I want to see you make it on your own, away from the farm, and make a good living for yourself. If you have—then in five years’ time, the farm is yours. If not—the next one in line is Aurelio.”
Aurelio groaned.
It was obvious Aurelio did not want the vineyard. Perhaps he had too much on his hands already, without the responsibility of the grape festival every year. However, the silver lining was that Aurelio would make sure to take care of Josephina financially.
“Have you the money for the festival?” the lawyer asked.
Niccolò looked at the lawyer, then he looked at Zio. “I had it all last night, but I was robbed,” Niccolò said. “I truly feared for my life.” Josephina gasped. The lawyer raised one eyebrow.
“Niccolò! Are you okay?” Josephina asked.
“Yes, Mamma. I think I am okay.”
Even the lawyer seemed disappointed at this revelation.
“Let us take a look at the grapes outside on the hill,” the lawyer said.
They walked out into the sunlight, and the lawyer led the way between rows of purple grapes. Niccolò followed close behind him. The lawyer studied the grapes and plucked one from a large bunch. He held it up to the sun. Niccolò watched him curiously.
“Do you have workers to pick them?” he asked.
“Yes, some townspeople and my friends have volunteered. They are specially eager to stomp them this year.”
“That’s great. And you, are you eager to stomp them?” asked the lawyer.
Niccolò thought it was a strange question. “Well, I let the visitors do so. I have had my share of grape stomping. I would prefer to drink the juice from last year.”
Niccolò and the lawyer stared at each other for a moment. The lawyer seemed uncertain about what to say. He blinked and then chewed on the side of his lip.
The lawyer then cleared his throat. “Well, let’s see how the flavor of the grapes is this year.”
He made his way down the row and pulled at a purplish blue grape in the middle of a large clump. It would not come loose. Niccolò crossed his arms and wondered if the lawyer faked it. The lawyer looked seemingly embarrassed at the rest of them, as they watched, their mouths agape. Niccolò blinked.
All the grapes fell off the vine at once, in a synchronous explosion. Niccolò gasped.
“Well, I guess they’re ready for picking!” the lawyer said, and the others scrambled to get them off the ground.
The lawyer also picked a grape from the ground and quickly chewed it, like the rest of them. His eyes glazed over.
“That is delicious,” he said. “So the grape picking should begin today?”
“Yes,” Niccolò answered.
“You should be in charge of that,” the lawyer said, and then led them back toward the house.
When they reached the doorway, the lawyer walked back into the house, and everyone moved to follow. Niccolò stopped in his tracks. Zio came up beside him.
“So, what is your plan?” Zio asked.
“There is something more important than this to me. I realized that when I was milking.”
“There is?” Zio said, seemingly astonished.
“I need to go to Fiorella and find Akala,” Niccolò answered.
“I don’t understand,” Zio said, “I thought this was what you wanted? This is your chance to get the vineyard!”
“I don’t think I can ignore the girl for the grapes and be the hero.”
Zio observed him for a moment. “I trust your judgment, Niccolò,” Zio said. “You must do what you think is right.”
“Thank you, Zio,” Niccolò said. “It holds great importance to me.”
“I will help tend to the grapes,” Zio said.
Niccolò smiled at Zio. Zio took him by the shoulders and smiled warmly at him. “I am immensely proud of you.”
Niccolò felt surprised. “Thank you! I must do it.”
“Go…”
Niccolò ran toward the driveway. He stopped short and looked back. “Zio? Could I borrow your car?”
Zio nodded.
Niccolò smiled and grabbed the keys from Zio’s hand.
Niccolò drove to Fiorella with a sense of freedom, but also with questions floating in his mind. He was giving up the chance of owning the vineyard for something else he knew little about, except the understanding he’d never gotten from anyone else.
After being robbed the night before, it seemed there was no hope left of getting the vineyard, anyway. The only chance he had was of picking grapes and now, he had left Zio in charge. Zio would help him the best he could. Niccolò would most likely lose the vineyard if the lawyer found out he declined to help, but if the vineyard was God’s will for him, Niccolò trusted it would be.
Niccolò sighed as he drove around the hills towards Fiorella and wondered where he would search to find Akala. He drove over the Ponte Grande with an idea of the hotel where Akala had stayed. He parked frantically and ran inside the hotel D'argento lobby. He interrupted the guests in line at the desk.
“Please!” he said. “I have to find a girl, she is young-looking, red hair to her shoulder?”
The workers shook their heads as the customers in line became angry. He ran around the lobby and then down a hallway to a banquet room.
“Akala?” he shouted.
The people in the room stared at him, curiously. He looked at each one. They blinked.
He ran outside and toward his favorite coffee shop where he asked them if they had seen her. They offered him coffee, which he hesitated to decline, then ran to the Cathedral of Fiorella.
