Notoriously Beautiful

7

The Ice Cream Parlor

I'm taking a shower, the cold water feels amazing on my back, it's so hot here. I mean I knew it was hot here, but it's really hot. I get out of the shower and wrap myself in the beige towel, and sit down on the little round chair we brought from home. We took this from my nonna's house. I'm going to sleep, I'm tired, that's the reason. I'm tired and I'm relaxed.
It's Saturday morning, I rush to my mom, to see if she is feeling better.
"Mom, are you okay?" I ask, shaking her a little. She was still in bed. I realized I woke up a little later than usual. It was 10:30, I usually wake up at 9:00 on weekends. My mom usually wakes up at 10:30 though (well, ever since she retired), so it was normal to me.
"Katerina, ugh, I feel terrible," she says. I can tell her head is spinning furiously.
"Mom, what happened yesterday, you were speaking gibberish," I laugh, thinking back to yesterday night.
"Oh Kat, I just met some people," she begins, not telling the whole story.
"And..." I say, rolling my hands in a circular motion, to gesture her to keep telling the story.
"Well, they were all going through something, I don't know," she goes on.
"Okay, so you met people who had problems, and..." I say again.
"Practically, I went with five other older than 55 year olds to the bar," she says hysterically laughing.
"Wow ma, I thought something really happened to you," I lie, laughing with her. I knew she was drunk, duh.
I've been laughing so much more since I've moved here. It's so great in Sicily. The scenery is different, the sun is different, and above all, the people are different.
"Nothings going to happen to me Kat, I love you, come here," she says, pulling me closer to her, as she lay on her bed.
"Alright ma, I love you. Oh, do you like the bed? Oh, and ma guess what, I learned how to sew yesterday. Oh wait, I'm also going to the beach with Simona, Marco, and Tommaso today," I say, super fast. I didn't mean to talk so fast it just happened.
"You learned to sew? Wow, my little princess. Your nonna would have been so proud Kat," she says.
My mom still thinks I'm a baby, but it's okay, I love her so much.
"I know mom, Simona taught me," I say.
"Simona? Oh you said you're going to the beach with her," she says, thinking about what I had said seconds before.
"Yes, and Marco and Tommaso, we are going at 3:30, I mean, 2:00," I admit, I feel bad leaving her, but I can't bring her to the beach with friends that would be, just a little strange.
"Alright, princess. Have fun, I'll be here, I just want to relax today," she says.
I have a few hours before I have to go so I decide to walk around and go into the other stores I'd seen when I went to Simona's shop.
I see one store read, "Pesce fresco". It was a store that sold "Fresh Fish." I turn my head over to the other side of the road, over there I see a pastry shop,
"Gelateria Mannino", which meant Mannino's Ice Cream Shop. I cross the street, and go into the shop. There stands an older man at the front, and he looks very kind.
"Ciao," I say.
"Ciao, com'è stai," he says. That means how are you doing.
"I'm doing good sir," I say.
"Oh, English sorry. I'm not too good," he says chuckling, as he puts his hand to his mouth.
"That's okay," I laugh.
"Chocolato," I say pointing to the ice cream I want.
"Yes, sì," he says.
I watch as he uses a stainless steel, flat spade to get the ice cream. It looks like an art, as he moves the ice cream back and forth with the spade. In New York I was used to an ice cream scooper, shaped with a deep circular indent. It's a tad crazy to see no ice cream scooper anywhere in the parlor.
"Qui," he says smiling.
"Grazia," I said, thanking him.
I give him five euros, as it says on the sign on the counter.
"Thank you, ciao," he says, as he sits down behind the counter. There was a chair that I didn't notice before.
That was a nice shop. I take a lick of my ice cream (well really it's gelato).
I learned something new today. Italian ice cream reigns supreme over all the others. I go back home, and look up on the internet how Italian gelato is made.
Gelato is made with more milk and sugar than American ice cream. It also has less cream, and usually doesn't contain any egg yolk. Gelato is churned much more slowly than ice cream is. This makes the gelato smooth and luxurious. It's pretty interesting, not going to lie.
"Kat, what are you doing?" My mom asks me.
"Oh, I went to a gelateria, and it was so wonderful. So I just looked up how it's made," I'm still staring at the laptop.
"Wow, you went to get ice cream without me," my mom jokes.
I know it's a joke but that was pretty mean of me actually.
I always think she's going to say something that makes sense, like oh so how is it made, instead she jokes about me not bringing her some.
"I'll go back and get some for you," I propose.
"No, stop. I'm kidding," she smiles, a true smile.
I nod.
My moms been more relaxed since we've moved here. I don't know who was more devastated when Nonna died. Me or her, the fact of the matter is, I think she feels closer to her here, where she grew up, I think I do too.