Tag: Opposites

The minute she walked into my deli on Arthur Avenue, I was blown away. She knocked my socks off. Even through the crack in the storage room door I was dazzled by this profusion of red hair the color of a bright autumn day, creamy skin with a splash of freckles and captivating emerald eyes. I’ve got a weakness for gingers and I fell head over heels. 

I’m Bruno Deluca – or Mr. Monotone compared to the stunning Monarch butterfly that just gaily flew into my market. I have the quintessential Italian look – walnut brown hair, coffee brown eyes and a perpetual deep tan. But I have a sparkling smile and dimples “to die for”, as my Aunt Carmella always says. 

This amber goddess stood in front of the meat and cheese display, a bewildered look on her face. Here’s my big chance. I dashed from the back room and positioned myself directly in her line of vision. “Welcome to Deluca’s Salumeria. May I help you with something, miss?” [Smooth, right? Not to mention original!] 

She looked up and I flashed her my trademark smile. And she smiled back, blushing winsomely. My knees grew weak when she spoke, her lilting Irish brogue a sweet surprise. 

“Everything looks so exotic and delicious! I wouldn’t know what to order, even if could pronounce the names!” And when she laughed I swear I saw musical notes wafting through the air. 

“No problem” I replied as I swiftly came around to her side, naming and describing all the meats and cheeses. 

She smelled like honeysuckle. I smelled like provolone. 

She still couldn’t make up her mind so I tried something radical. “How about I give you a few samples – on the house – if you promise to come back and buy something, even if it’s one slice of salami?” 

She hesitated for a second, then laughingly said “You have a deal, Mr…..” 

“Deluca. Bruno Deluca. And you are…..?” 

She extended a delicate porcelain hand. “Rowan McCourt. Pleased to meet you, Bruno.”

“Rowan, eh? That’s a lovely name. What does it mean?” 

Tentatively toying with her hair she said “Little Red-haired One. And what does Bruno mean?” 

I shrugged and matter-of-factly stated “Brown” and we both burst out laughing! 

I packed up a nice selection of sliced meat and cheese and some of my best Italian bread. “Here ya go, Rowan, and don’t forget…..” 

“Oh, no Bruno! This is too much! I couldn’t possibly…..!” 

“Go! Enjoy! It’s always good to have leftovers. See you soon!” 

The next day I kept glancing at the door; I couldn’t get Rowan out of my head and I was disappointed when she didn’t return. True to her word, though, she was back the following morning.

“Bruno, everything was delicious!” she declared excitedly. “Now what shall I buy?”

She browsed for a minute. “That looks incredible! What is it?” 

“That’s lasagna – sheets of wide pasta layered with ricotta, mozzarella, grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, sauteèd chopped beef and sausage in my homemade tomato sauce. It’s already cooked; just heat and enjoy. Would you like to try it?”

“I would indeed! You make it all sound so delicious, Bruno. My mouth is watering!”

“You won’t regret your decision, Rowan. Lasagna is one of our specialties. How much would you like?” 

“Enough for a few portions, please” Rowan replied. Her smile was radiant.

“Ah, leftovers. You remembered!” I said, smiling back. 

“Actually, Bruno, I was hoping you would join me for dinner tonight.”

It took me a second to remember to breath. “I’d love to” I whispered while inside I was shouting “YES! I’d love to!” 

“Wonderful! Here’s my address. See you at 7:00. And Bruno, can you bring a bottle of wine and some of your fabulous bread?” Rowan asked. 

I stared into her eyes and nodded mutely.

“Bruno, I’m very happy you’ll be joining me tonight.” Taking her bag, Rowan floated out the door. The slightest trace of honeysuckle tickled my nose.

NAR ©2023

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Motown Memories.
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