Expats

1

Three blocks from the Boboli Gardens, the Arno Café was a favorite of his since the move. Thomas hadn’t heard of it, and he was eager to meet him there.

The next afternoon they had a table by the window with espresso cups and saucers set down on it. In a frenzy of activity beyond the glass motorini buzzed, car horns beeped, people went past in either direction.

“Visiting composer,” Dave said.

“Looking forward to it.”

“When?”

“Saturday.”

“Bologna will be good.”

“I’m happy to get it. I appreciate these things more. I no longer expect them to come to me.”

“Life gets finer with age. It’s the realization it isn’t forever. There’s no shortage of people out there wanting the same stuff. No one gets to have it all.”

“I meant to ask on the phone, how long you and Loren been here?”

“Five years next month.”

“That was your plan as I recall.”

“It was. The situation being what it is, we’re in no hurry to go back. Honestly, the longer we’re dug in the more we wonder if we’ll ever leave.”

“You don’t miss your friends. Your families?”

“We do, of course. Some have come here.” Dave’s finger tapped the table. “It’s a getaway from the madness. Speaking of that, what’s up with Jonathan? We were just talking about him.”

“Haven’t seen him in ages. After he broke up with Ellen he went dark on all platforms.”

“I should check social media more than I do. I still have a few go-to spots. Right now, I don’t want to know everything that’s happening.”

“I used to depend on you for stuff. I knew where to go to find out what was going on under the radar.”

“I can report to you a cat five storm is coming to the States next month. A new world order too. I wish I thought different. You tell me. My mind can be changed.”

Thomas looked out the window, turned back and said, “There’s still hope, man. Things to fight for. You can’t run away from it.”

“You think that’s why we’re here? We’re running away?”

“Not how I meant it.”

“That’s not what we did. There are other places to live in and ways to live. This is one of them. It’s not perfect, but it’s less manic than it is across the water.”

“Were you expecting to go back to find everything the way it was before 2016.”

“No. I expected it to be better. Now it’s going to be worse than either of us ever imagined.”

“You sound like Alex.”

Thomas, Ellen, Alex. They were three of the group he was part of his first years in Brooklyn. For a while it was a tight crew of friends hanging out, hooking up, drinking, partying. Sharing success and failure. There were others, lots. But for a while he was closest to them. Thirty years later Thomas was still there. Alex too. Most of the others were scattered about. Upstate. Vermont. Out west. A few like he and Loren hightailed it to other countries.

“Calling it as I see it.”

“When you do go back, where’s it going to be? New York? Or Boston, from whence you came?”

“Boston’s possible. There’s no Williamsburg redux. That would be like starting over. Mid-fifties, we don’t want to do that.”

“I was in Boston in March. It’s changed so much I almost didn’t recognize it.”

“Pretty sure I told you my siblings and relatives went to the other side. They were always on the borderline. Now it’s manifest. They drank the flavor aid. If I was there, they would be hard to avoid.”

“Understood. But I’m not letting anyone decide what I do, say, or don’t do and say. I’m in it until victory or death. I prefer the former.”

“I get it. My EU passport eased our transition. It’s why I got it, even if I didn’t know at the time this is what I’d use it for.”

“I had a hunch you and Loren were going to bag it.”

“You did? We didn’t know until we were watching the news one night and realized we didn’t have to be there. We didn’t have to continue to live through that.”

“You must have known something before then. Election night 2016 at your place, I remember you threatening to do it.”

“Everyone said it then. It was a knee jerk reaction. People saw something on the horizon that wasn’t good. They didn’t know just what. Considering what’s coming, we might think of those as the good old days.”

“There’s a growing resistance. There will be pushback.”

“Look, I didn’t know they would wear me down. They did.”

“I was surprised.”

“We said five years. Since the election, we know if we go back it might never be the same. Not in our lifetime, anyway. Here, we don’t have an emotional attachment to parties and policies.”

“It’s not a rose garden. That’s what I’ve been reading.”

“The same forces are at work. To a lesser extent. It’s a different system.”

“There’s historical precedence for much worse.”

“There is that.”

“Maybe we should switch to wine.”

“Not for me. But you go ahead. I don’t start in until I get my workout out of the way. I’ll get to the booze tonight. Loren’s making pasta. I’m not sure what kind. Whatever it is, it’ll be fantastic. I’m doing the veggie dishes and buying dessert. And, we have a surprise visitor.”

“Who?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Come on.”

“You’ll see.”

“Give me a hint.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Well, I’m having one before we hit the road. You want something?”

“I’m good.”

Thomas went to the counter. He came back to the table with his glass of wine. Whatever else had changed, that hadn’t.

Outside later, they walked to Via Maggio. They paused on the sidewalk by Piazza De’ Frescobaldi.

“I got to get to my errands.”

“I’m seeing an old friend.”

“Now you tell me. Who’s this old friend?”

“Rebecca. You don’t know her.”

“She from here?”

“She is now.”

“Bring her. There’s always room for an extra plate at the table.”

Thomas looked away then looked back. “You sure?”

“Of course. We like meeting new folks. Especially expats.”

“All right, catch you at seven.”

2

The bell rang for the first time at seven-ten. Their friend Maria was in the door with a bottle of wine and Dave led her to the living room where chairs were set out. William was next, followed by neighbors Marco and Francesca. Thomas was the last to arrive. He came with Rebecca, the transplant from the states he told Dave about.

Spotting William across the room, Thomas said, “I have to come to Italy to see you.” He looked at the others. “I haven’t run into him in New York in, I don’t know how long.”

“My friend,” William said. “I get around. Not as much as you. But I do manage to avoid being pinned down to one place very long.”

Thomas went over to shake his hand.

“All’s well here,” Thomas said. “I have a few days to hang out in Florence.”

“I heard from Dave. Sounds like the music business continues to be fruitful.”

“Knock on wood it stays that way. What about you?”

“Business is fine.”

“How many buildings you got now?”

“Five. Enough to keep me busy. I unloaded a chunk of the work to a management company. That eased the burden.”

“Sounds good,” Thomas said. He turned to Rebecca and introduced her around.

She was tall, with long hair, uncomfortable among strangers it appeared to Dave.

He was back in the room with two bottles of wine and another of an Italian brandy. He put them on the table with the glasses, sparkling water, and bowl of ice.

He said, “Everyone, please, get something to drink and take a chair. We made sure there are enough. We don’t want our guests sitting on the floor.”

“That would be a lot like our early Williamsburg days,” Maria said. “We’ve moved on from that.”

“Who said progress is dead?” Dave said.

“Some of us are still close to the center of that storm,” Thomas said. That got a laugh.

“Sounds like you know a lot about them.” Francesca said to Maria.

At that moment Loren came in the room. “More than I do. I was late to the party. Last one in, you might say.” She stood next to Dave.

“I see,” Francesca said. “That’s not a bad place to be. There has to be some mystery.”

“Not sure I’m a mystery,” Dave said. “Those years were more flailing around while I was figuring out what I wanted to do.”

“That was most of us,” William said.

“Let me get you some wine.” Dave nodded at Rebecca. He went to the table with the glasses on it.

“I was just about to do that,” Thomas said.

“I was going to say,” Maria said. She smiled at Thomas. They had a moment long ago. The banter between them hadn’t stopped.

“I was giving her a breather,” Thomas said. “We imbibed this afternoon.”

“Would you prefer mineral water?” Dave said.

“Wine is fine,” Rebecca said.

“It’s fine for me too,” Thomas said. “But you knew that.”

“Best we sip our drinks so this doesn’t get out of hand,” Dave said. “Who knows, we might start telling embarrassing stories about each other?”

“Save those for later,” Loren said.

“Why do we have to wait?” Marco said.

“No worries, you’ll hear more than you want to,” Loren said. She caught Dave’s attention and flipped her head toward the kitchen. “Excuse us.” They went off that way.

“How do you like living in Italy?” Maria asked Rebecca.

“So far so good. It’s been a year, so one step at a time. I was in Trastevere until last month.”

“Americans keep coming,” Marco said. “More and more are living here.”

“Some of those are remote workers decamping for a while,” William said. “Tech heads, business consultants, social media types.”

“The creative class,” Maria said.

“That’s it!” Thomas said. “The words I was looking for. Creative class. To think that was us once.”

“Except they didn’t call us that,” William said. “We were the outsiders. Nonconformists. The broke and busted.”

“The waiters and waitresses,” Maria said.

“We’re still creatives,” Thomas said. “It’s just that our identities were subsumed by the techies. In five years, I’ll be sending my tablet to Bologna instead of going there myself. It has my music, programs to run it and make more in the same mode. Or whatever mode. It’ll be out of my hands.”

“Most of those coming here don’t know the language and don’t intend to learn it,” Marco said.

“I agree,” Francesca said.

Rebecca said, “They like what Italy’s offering. That’s not a bad thing.”

“The government’s making it easier for people with the resources to bring their money here and spend it,” Maria said.

“After this election you’re going to see a lot more of them,” Thomas said.

“They raise the price of everything,” Francesca said. “It’s costing us more every time we go to the store. Our food bill is outrageous.”

“That’s happening globally,” William said.

“The capitalists are raking it in,” Marco said.

“It’s the same every generation, or worse,” Maria said. “This one’s worse.”

“Greed’s the word I prefer to use,” Thomas said. He rubbed a thumb and index finger together.

“Most countries want people with money to live there,” Rebecca said. “It raises the standard of living for everyone.”

“It lowers the standard of living for many of us,” Marco said. “We’re average income earners.”

“What do you do?” William said.

“I teach high school,” Marco said.

“I’m a nutritionist,” Francesca said.

“Sounds to me like you’re doing well,” William said.

“We have a nice life,” Francesca said. “Fragile as it is. If it were just us, okay. We can survive. But we have two children.”

“How old?” Rebecca asked.

“Nine and eleven,” Marco said.

“We’re going to need a bigger apartment soon, that will be a big hit on our budget,” Francesca said.

Loren came into the room, and said, “Everyone please, have a seat at the table, the food is ready.”

Dinner was abundant. Penne strascicate. Peperonata. Pinzimonio. Spinach and artichokes.

It was all good to the guests. Restaurant quality, they toasted. Throughout, they told their stories to each other. When it was time for the plates to be cleared and the desserts, amaro, and grappa to come out, they couldn’t decide whether the influx of Americans was good or bad for the country.

“It’s a no decision,” Dave said.

“I thought we agreed, it’s not that for a lot of people,” Marco said.

“They bring money and that can only be good for businesses,” William said.

“We were sure we would be welcome with open arms,” Dave said. “We are and we’re not. Our friends are our friends. But those who don’t know us are skeptical.”

“It doesn’t take long to figure out we’re not from here,” Loren said.

“One look was all it took for me,” Francesca said. She smiled.

“We know, we know that all too well,” Dave said.

“You’re fluent,” Marco said. “That goes a long way.”

“Almost fluent,” Loren said.

“I agree with that,” Dave said.

3

The guests left at midnight. During the meal and after it, the conversation was engaging. Serious and funny. The embarrassing stories weren’t too uncomfortable to listen to, Dave and Loren agreed as they cleaned up.

They woke late on a sunny Sunday morning. Dave made a pot of stovetop espresso. They took their cups out to the balcony with slices of leftover astagnaccio. They sat in their usual places. Loren with her back to the railing. He staring across the Arno toward the Porta al Prato.

Loren said, “We should have this for breakfast more often. No reason to limit ourselves to cornetos and brioche.”

“If we do that, we’ll have to add a half hour to our workouts.”

“Last night went well. I thought so anyway.”

“It did until Thomas got into it with William.”

“They put on a show. I could see Marco and Francesca thinking, how do you guys know William?”

“He was always a straight arrow. He’s even more of one now.”

“Being a straight arrow and supporting those policies are two different things. Conservative is fine. I get it. But now there’s a whole other side I refuse to put up with.” Loren shook her head.

“Like we keep saying, it’s two one-way streets with no connecting paths. Some of it was hard to listen to.”

“What are we going to do today? I say we get in the car and head out to the country for a ride.”

“I say we have another coffee. Then go for a long walk.”

“How about we go somewhere to get the next one. Then walk.”

“Then find somewhere to eat. We’ll have the leftovers tomorrow.”

4

One o’clock they were down the stairs and out the door. First thing, they stood at a bar and drank an espresso. Back on the sidewalk, Loren said, “I haven’t been across the Arno all week. Let’s go this way.” She turned and started off in the direction of the Ponte Amerigo Vespucci.

Across the bridge into the narrow cobblestone streets the shops and markets were shuttered. Further on the restaurant Da Giggetto was open. It was a favorite of theirs. Approaching it, Loren spotted a couple from the States they met a few times. They sat at an outdoor table, a white cloth draped over it.

“Look who it is,” she said.

Dave couldn’t recall their names.

“Edward and Michelle,” Loren said in a low voice.

In a few more steps the woman glanced at Loren. They stopped next to their table. An empty bottle of white wine was turned upside down in a metal chiller.

“How have you been?” Michelle said.

“We got an early start,” Edward said with a nod.

“I get it,” Dave said. “We’re looking to do some of that ourselves.”

“It’s one of those days to sit out and enjoy,” Loren said.

“This is such a great spot,” Edward said. “You can sit with us. We need to go by two. Then you have the table to yourselves.”

“We were just saying how we’re in a wandering mood,” Dave said.

Michelle said, “We’re getting a jump on our vacation. Edward and I are off to Greece tomorrow.”

Edward said, “Except for trips back home, it’s our first major excursion since we came here. Two years. Can you believe it?”

“I can believe it because we did the same,” Dave said.

“At some point you got to get away from it,” Michelle said. “Not that we don’t like Florence. We do.”

“Everyone needs a change of scenery,” Loren said. “Even from this.” Her hand drew attention to the ancient, decorative facades all around them.

“We’ve been talking about a trip to Portugal,” Dave said. “We’ve never been.”

“Go to the southern coast,” Edward said. “It’s not as popular as the western side, but just as scenic if you ask me.”

“And be sure to lose your bathing suits, it’s the thing to do on the beaches,” Michelle said.

The comment drew attention. Heads turned their way.

“Oooops, too loud?” Michelle put a hand to her mouth.

Loren said, “Well, before we do that we’re planning an escape to Padua. I never get tired of seeing Giotto.”

“If we feel like dealing with the crowds, we’ll go to Venice for a night,” Dave said.

“It’s just about a full invasion there,” Edward said. “With bigger and bigger landing crafts.”

“They’re going to have to put a cap on the numbers before it’s too late to save it, don’t you think?” Loren said.

“Who knows what anymore,” Michelle said.

“Why do that?” Edward said. “It’s a giant cash cow.”

A waiter arrived with a plate of pasta in either hand. One had red sauce. One shellfish.”

“Looks like your food’s here,” Loren said. “We won’t interrupt. We wanted to say hello.”

Michelle said, “It was nice seeing you. We’ll have you over when we’re back. How do we get in touch?”

Loren took a pen from her bag and wrote her email address on a napkin.

“Send when ready,” Dave said.

“Will do,” Edward said.

“We thank you in advance,” Loren said.

She and Dave turned away and started toward their unspecified destination.

“I get the feeling they’re not going to be here much longer,” Loren said. “They don’t own, do they?”

“Not sure,” Dave said. “As I recall, I don’t think their jobs require they be in a specific place, so it might not matter.”

“Elisabetta knows Michelle. I’ll ask next time I see her.”

5

They strolled a while before deciding to turn back. Da Giggetto was too good to pass up. They had a hankering for their simple, delicious food.

Back there, Edward and Michelle insisted they sit with them instead of waiting for a table to open.

“You sure?” Loren said. “We don’t want to bother you.”

“Of course we’re sure,” Michelle said.

“The urge to have one of their pastas was greater than the urge to find another restaurant,” Dave said.

“We need another chair.” Edward’s eyes went out in search of the waiter.

In moments a chair and two menus were present. Dave and Loren were quick to order. Not long after that a bottle of red wine arrived. Dave poured glasses for Loren and himself.

“Well, cheers,” Edward said with a lift of his glass.

“It’s great to run into you,” Loren said.

“Yeah, we don’t get over this way much,” Edward said.

“We ate here once and wanted to come back,” Michelle said.

“Excellent choice,” Dave said. “We’ve been many times.”

The conversation went off on assorted topics: upcoming trips, business, health care. In the middle of that their plates of pasta were on the table and the focus turned to their food.

Dave said, “I’m going to miss eating this well back home.”

“Will that be soon?” Edward said.

“We’re not sure when to give up our suspended life,” Loren said. “No matter what, the U.S. is still our home. Beautiful as it is, I’ll never consider Italy its replacement. It would be silly to think that.”

“Twenty-five years in New York,” Dave said. “It was good to get away from it a while.”

“I bet it was,” Michelle said.

“We’ve adapted nicely here,” Edward said.

“I can vouch for that,” Michelle said. “I hope it’s not going to be a problem when it’s time to go back.”

“I know one thing, we’ll be going back to a better place than the one we left,” Edward said.

Loren turned to Dave with questioning eyes.

“I know our daughters are staying put,” Michelle said. “No way they want to live here, or any other country.”

“Ellen’s visiting us next month,” Edward said. “Bringing her boyfriend.”

“Sounds serious,” Dave said.

“Who knows,” Edward said with a shrug.

“It’s the same with our daughter Lily, they’re together until they’re not,” Loren said.

“I’m tighter with my family than Edward is,” Michelle said.

“We’re tight, but they’re in Nashville and we’re in Miami,” Edward said. “We see each other on holidays. The way it’s supposed to be.”

The focus turned back to the food and the glorious Florentine day.

Loren said, “No matter how hard I try, I can’t duplicate this sauce. Not even close.”

“We know our limitations,” Michelle said. “Easier to come out and order it.”

Dave took a sip of wine. “Since we got here, I like drinking wine more and more. I was a beer guy back home.”

“It’s the country, the atmosphere,” Michelle said. “It’s all about wine.”

“There’s not much of a beer culture here,” Edward said.

“I’ll start up again when we’re back,” Dave said.

“If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a plan?” Michelle said.

“We talk it over, it’s always right there, when do we do it?” Dave said.

Loren turned to Michelle. “How much longer are you thinking?”

“Not too long,” Michelle said. “Much as we like being between, not here or there, we know it can’t be forever.”

“We don’t know how bad it’s going to get, so we we’re not sure,” Dave said. “Right now, it’s like waiting for a giant bubble to burst.”

“I never thought it would come to this,” Loren said. “It’s terrible.”

“Did you vote?” Edward said.

“We did,” Dave said.

“We wonder if they were counted,” Loren said. “We’ve been reading a lot weren’t delivered, weren’t counted or were lost.” She hung air quotes around the last word.

“So many things went wrong with the votes the last time,” Edward said.

“That election was vetted,” Dave said. “It was clean. Sixty court cases said so.”

“The deep state fixed the votes,” Edward said.

“Oh come on,” Loren said.

“We voted for change,” Michelle said. “The country was going to hell.”

“That’s an opinion I don’t agree with,” Dave said.

“I don’t know what to say,” Michelle said. “The economy is shit. Immigration and inflation are out of control.”

“The economy’s better there than it is here or anywhere in Europe,” Loren said. “The U.S. is the envy of the world.”

“That’s just not true,” Michelle said. “What about late term abortions? That’s another horror.”

“That’s not happening anywhere, it’s a lie,” Loren said.

“We’re done with our food,” Edward said. “It’s time for us to get going. We still have packing to do.”

Dave and Loren eyed each other in telepathic communication. Dave wanted to launch into a long remonstration and explanation, but Loren beat him to it.

“Remember checks and balances, what happened to them?” she said. “I’ll never in my life forget what happened at the Capitol and he was still allowed to run.”

“The country was dying,” Edward said. “He’ll lift it up.”

Dave shook his head. “He plans to turn it into a place we won’t recognize.”

Edward shook his head. “Nope.”

Dave said, “You’re right, this isn’t the place to hash this out.”

Michelle said, “Yes, we don’t want to ruin a nice day.”

Edward gestured to the waiter they wanted their check. When it was settled Edward and Michelle pushed their chairs back.

“You have a great rest of your day,” Loren said.

“We will, enjoy your meal,” Michelle said.

“We’ll be seeing you,” Dave said.

They watched them go off toward the Piazza della Signoria. When they were out of sight, Loren said, “Well, that was unexpected.”

“I’ll take the hit for agreeing to sit with them, I had no idea,” Dave said.

“Neither did I. How could we. We didn’t know much about them.”

“We assumed, and we shouldn’t do that.”

“They were as surprised as we were. They couldn’t get away from us fast enough.”

6

Two days later Thomas called wanting to get together before he went to Bologna.

That evening Dave met him at a bar off the Piazza Santa Maria Novella. They had a table in the back. Glasses of wine and plates of olives and pizzette were set on it.

“There’s nothing quite like the sudden discovery you have zero in common with people you assumed you were simpatico with,” Thomas said.

Dave said, “We let our guard down and there we were, looking for an exit like a couple of cornered cats. Back home, we know before we go.”

“Except for extended family members I have to put up with once or so a year, it’s rare I’m in that situation. I don’t have the patience or tolerance.”

“They’re closing in on us. It was a slow process. Then last month, bingo bango, we got hit with a tsunami.”

“It won’t wash us away.”

“No, but it’ll continue to erode the shoreline we’re standing on.”

Thomas nodded. “True that.”

“We’ll see what happens. If it’s as bad as we expect, we’ll stay here.”

“Don’t let them rule your life. Better to take a stand for what you believe in.”

“Why go back to what’s certain to be a disaster for everyone? A majority just willfully voted for a dictatorship.”

“You can’t hide here forever. It’s all hands on deck now. It’s going to be a mess, but it’s not hopeless.”

“I want you to be right.”

“This isn’t why I wanted to get together.”

“I know. Tell me this, you have an idea of the work you want to do in Bologna, or you going to let it happen?”

“Yes.” Thomas smiled.

“Figured as much.”

“Before we get into it, let me order us another glass.”

“Let me do it.”

The sun was low in the sky as Dave made his way across the Arno. Along the way his mood turned gloomy. He and Loren had decided to live in Florence as the strained dynamics back home played out. Yet not only had they followed them there, they went on in other ways around them. Not with the same intensity. Or so it seemed; he and Loren were removed enough to think they were.

Going past a café people ate and drank at, his mind continued to turn over what Thomas had said: “You can’t hide away forever. We need all hands on deck.”

He was right. Their five years were up. It was time to go back. They didn’t intend to live in Florence more than that.

When he was home Loren agreed. “I’ve been thinking that too. I want to be there. Now we have to figure out where that’s going to be.”