So much has already happened. It’s 6 hours ahead here, ya know. When I was done working for the day, I had a perfect tan. I was also ravenous and way too exhausted to go out. The sun was setting, so I lit some candles and ordered a pizza from the best place in town. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at my door….
It is Lorenzo.
Magnum of Franciacorta in one hand, bouquet of flowers in the other, black mask still on his face. His band mates are standing behind him, carrying instruments and sweating their asses off in their traditional costumes.
“I told you, ragazzi,” he says smugly.
Three of the guys hand him money, begrudgingly.
“I knew you would come back,” He says, holding the bouquet of flowers out to me.
“Isn’t it bad luck for the wedding singer to steal from the bride, Lorenzo?”
“You are such a bitch!” He shouts, picking me up and throwing me on the couch.
The band plays.
The pizza arrives.
The delivery girl is quite confused.
We ask her to join us and she asks if she can invite a friend. The guitar player and I say, “And also your sister!” at the same time and we all die laughing.
We eat the pizza, we drink the wine, we make the music.
And then we all take a shower together.
La Dottoressa e’ tornata.