Home to Italy Read Online Free Page B

trousers, placing them in neat stacks on the bed. On the floor two suitcases lay open, awaiting the final decision on which articles of clothing would be chosen for the journey and which would be left behind. Peppi was in the closet, sifting through his old suits and looking over his shoes. Before long he emerged with two sports jackets, one pair of dress shoes, and a pair of work boots.
    â€œThat’s it?” cried Angie.
    â€œHow can you go to Italy with just those two pairs of shoes?” added Delores.
    â€œI’ll have the walking shoes I’ll wear on the plane,” offered Peppi. “Plus I’ll have my cycling shoes.”
    The two women glared at him and shook their heads.
    â€œYour cycling shoes?” said Delores. “Why are you packing those?”
    â€œHow else will I ride my bike?” said Peppi.
    â€œWhat bike?” said Angie.
    â€œMy bike,” said Peppi. “I can’t leave it here.”
    â€œYou have a lifetime’s worth of things in this house and all you’re worried about taking is your bike? And how do you plan on carrying it onto the plane?”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ll manage,” Peppi replied. With that he left the room and headed downstairs.
    â€œHow did Anna ever put up with him all those years?” he heard Angie saying as he descended the staircase.
    â€œThey’re all the same,” echoed Delores.
    Once downstairs, Peppi went into the garage. Wasting no time, he took the stepladder, opened it, and climbed up to the rafters. Peppi kept in the rafters many of the things he and Anna had collected over the years. Souvenirs from their trips together. Boxes of old clothes he’d been meaning to give away to the poor. Books and magazines. Some broken chairs Peppi had planned to repair one day when he found the time. The bicycle traveling case he wanted was kept stored against the back wall along with some old bicycle rims and an odd assortment of cycling equipment for which there was no storage space down below. Nearby was a cardboard box atop which rested a photo album that caught Peppi’s eye.
    Peppi knelt beside the box and opened the album. Inside were pictures from a trip Anna and he had taken to Saint Thomas some twenty years earlier. Until that very moment he had long ago forgotten the trip. Seeing the pictures from it brought back a flood of wonderful memories. Peppi flipped through the pages, pausing now and then to marvel at how tanned and beautiful his wife had been, how happy they were together. He gazed at every picture, trying to relive every moment. One in particular made him pause. It was of Anna. She was standing on the balcony, her face and hair bathed in the warm, soft light of the sun setting over the bay behind her. He gazed at the picture for a long time before he heard Angie calling for him. With one last look he kissed the picture, closed the album, and tucked it safely into the box. With a heavy sigh he grabbed the bicycle case and climbed back down into the garage to dismantle his bike.
    The next day, Angie and her husband, Carmine, came to drive Peppi to the airport. Peppi’s flight wouldn’t depart Boston until after eight o’clock, but it was midafternoon and a few snowflakes were drifting down from the slate gray sky. It would be dark before long and Angie was anxious for them to leave before the weather turned bad. She hurried inside to get Peppi while Carmine kept the car running.
    Peppi was sitting at the kitchen table, looking over a checklist he had written up of things that needed to be done in the house at different times throughout the year. Angie came in and looked over his shoulder.
    â€œBoiler to be serviced every first week of September,” she read. “Change batteries for smoke alarms every six months when clocks are set forward or back. What’s this for, Peppi?”
    â€œIt’s for Stacy,” he told her. “When she gets married and moves in