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I’m just saying, I’m sure Susie Schramm has grown into a very interesting, vibrant girl. Why don’t you see her, just for lunch? What could one lunch hurt? You have a little lunch, catch up on old times… who knows where it could lead?
Call me, Markie. I’m worried about you. Really.
Mom
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To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Darrin Caputo
Re: Hello, it is your mother
I am using your brother’s email to write this to you. Your father says I should not, that you are an adult and I should let you lead your own life, like your brothers.
But all of your brothers found nice Italian girls—except for Frankie with that stripper. But even she is a good Christian, when she is not taking her clothes off for money.
Even Darrin, even HE found a nice Italian boy. Bobby came over for di
I don’t understand why you ca
I am asking you to think about what you are doing with your life. People are starting to think things about you and this Mark. I saw Jane Harris’s mother in the grocery store, and she was talking like you and Mark are getting married. If you are not careful, other people will begin to think the same, and eventually word will spread to Father Roberto, and then how will I be able to hold my head up at Mass on Sunday?
Think about your life, Holly. Do the right thing.
Mom
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To: Cal Langdon
Fr: Graziella Fratiani >
Re: Yesterday
It was so lovely to be seeing you yesterday afternoon. You are a twenty-first-century man, not like these Italian boys I constantly meet. You know, still living with Mama, and expect all women to cook and clean for them. It’s nice to be with a man who washes his own socks.
Did I tell you, I’m between shows at the moment, so I can take a little time off from the gallery. Might I to be joining you at your little villa later in the week? I think I can—“rough it”? Let me know.
Grazi
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To: Jane Harris >
Fr: Julio Chasez >
Re: The Dude
Hey, Ms. Harris. I got your messages. Just wanted to let you know your cat is fine. Really.
And no, I haven’t had to use the oven mitts yet. And yeah, he ate all his salmon pate. And the Tender Vittles. And the Science Diet. And the Fancy Feast. And the Sheba. And he tried to gnaw through a box of Girl Scout cookies you left on the counter, but I took it away before he could.
Also, he chewed a hole through your sofa. But I guess you knew that. And he took a pretty big chunk out of my thumb when I caught him eating a tube of your toothpaste and tried to take it away. But the doctor says I’ll be fine. I guess cats have cleaner spit than humans or dogs or something.
Hope you’re having a nice trip.
Julio
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To: Julio Chasez >
Fr: Jane Harris >
Re: The Dude
Oh, my God, I’m so sorry about your thumb! PLEASE save your doctor’s bills so I can reimburse you when I get back!
You are the BEST!!! I ca
Yes, I know about the sofa. It’s okay, really.
THANK YOU!!!! I’ll see you in a week!
Love,
Jane
Travel Diary of Jane Harris
Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine
Jane Harris
It’s actually kind of hard to write this with the suitcase wedged onto the seat between me and Holly, but it’s better than trying to make conversation, because everyone seems to be in a bad mood since we all checked our Blackberries after lunch. Well, except for me. Since Julio says The Dude is fine!
I’ll have to make sure I reimburse Julio for his medical expenses, of course. But just knowing that Dude was in a good-enough mood to bite him must mean he’s not missing me too much.
I don’t know what’s eating everybody else in this car….
Well, I sort of do. It turns out Mark, who was supposed to be the one in charge of bringing CDs to listen to in the car, forgot. So the only thing we have to listen to is Italian radio (Hello. You do not know what disturbing is until you’ve heard Italian rap) or the Queen CD Cal happened to have in his backpack.
Yes. Queen.
I have now heard “Fat-Bottomed Girls” twelve times. Holly joked that it’s going to be her and Mark’s wedding theme song.
Thank God Mark pulled over when we got to the foot of the mountains and let Cal take over. You never saw such narrow, twisty roads in your life. I thought I was going to heave. Thank God I had Dramamine with me.
Plus, every time we made a turn, Holly’s suitcase fell on me. Well, not really fell, since Holly was holding onto it, but it LEANED HEAVILY on me. By the time we pulled over for lunch, I was chafed from the stupid thing rubbing against my shoulder, and in a pretty bad mood myself… especially when I saw the restaurant Cal had pulled up in front of.
I mean, God forbid he should choose a place in an actual TOWN. Oh, no, not Mr. I’ve Backpacked Around the World With Nothing But a Razor and My Queen CD (and some condoms, I hope, if he makes a habit of porking supermodels at every stop with his ABNORMALLY LARGE APPENDAGE—if what Holly says is really true, which I doubt. She’s probably only saying it to make me like him. Well, it’s NOT going to work).
Anyway, Modelizer has to pick this ridiculous looking Ho-Jo type place with these plate-glass windows in the middle of nowhere, perched on a CLIFF, practically.
Only when we walked in—me trying to rub some life back into my shoulder—we saw that there were like a million people there, looking out the plate glass windows at this beautiful waterfall rushing right past the dining room.
And the waiter was totally nice even though we didn’t have a reservation, and sat us at a really lovely table right by the waterfall window. And instead of giving us menus, he just told us (in Italian, of course) what they were serving, which Holly and Cal said Si to, even though I didn’t understand a word.
And then the next thing I knew, a carafe of bianco frizzante appeared as if from nowhere!
And then the waiter brought a giant bowl of deliciously cheesy pasta, which he spooned out onto each of our plates, and which seemed to melt as soon as it reached my tongue.
And then he brought a HUGE fish, swimming in butter, for the table to share, and a giant bowl of crisp, fresh, vinegary salad, and all this bread, and the whole thing only cost—get this: twenty-eight euros.
That is five Roman Diet Cokes right there.
The real question is, of course:
Why aren’t more women in Italy fat? That’s what I want to know. Because the women in that restaurant looked totally normal weight.
Mark said it’s because they aren’t loading up on empty calories the way Americans do. You know, soda and fries and stuff like that.