Genesis - Keith R. A. DeCandido [17]
It took Lisa a moment to realize that their destination was in the basement. Another staircase lay adjacent to the stoop, leading down to a door with a modest sign:
CHE BUONO.
"That's it?" Lisa asked.
"Don't judge a book by its cover." Alice's smile had turned mischievous. "First rule of Security Division."
The first thing she noticed when Alice opened the door was the smell: olive oil, garlic, tomato sauce, fish. It reminded her of Da Vittorio's or Carmine's in New York. Then she realized it was better than that: it reminded her of the trip to Venice she and Nick had taken—the last vacation they'd take together before his mother got sick.
The last vacation they'd take together, period.
"Alice! So good to see you!"
Lisa had to look down to see the round face on the tiny body that had greeted them. The woman stood at only five feet tall—if that—and her face was covered in wrinkles, none more pronounced than the smile lines around her mouth. She looked up at them with the happiest brown eyes Lisa had ever seen.
"And who is this?"
"This is my coworker Lisa," Alice said. "She's from New York."
"Bene, bene. Welcome to Che Buono, Lisa. Come, come, sit, sit," the old woman said, waving her hand as she led the way into the small restaurant.
There were only about half a dozen tables, covered in red-and-white checked tablecloths straight out of every pizza joint in the world.
The little old lady seated them at one of the tables, Lisa taking the side with her back to the wall, Alice facing her. Lisa noticed pictures of Italy all around the place—Milan, Venice, Rome, all looking fairly recent—as well as one large painting over the door to the kitchen of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence.
"This is lovely," Lisa said, a broad grin on her face. "Where'd you find this place?"
"By accident, honestly. I was walking around downtown one Valentine's Day feeling sorry for myself because I was alone. I got hungry, but there wasn't room anywhere—if you didn't have a reservation, you were out of luck."
"Except this place?"
Alice nodded. "They don't take reservations, and only about three-quarters of the tables were filled. I wound up having the best meal of my life. It's run by a single family, and it's like eating at your aunt's house."
Lisa fixed her companion with a dubious look. "Your last name is Abernathy."
"My mother's maiden name is Ferrara."
"Ah."
A young woman with black hair, and a face that was a younger version of the old woman who led them in, came over and handed them menus. "Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked.
Before Lisa could say anything, Alice said, "A bottle of the Chianti Classico." Then she looked at Lisa with those penetrating pale eyes of hers. "You do like Chianti, yes?"
"It's been so long since I had a decent glass of wine, I honestly don't remember what I like."
The server nodded, and went off.
Lisa glanced at the menu. "So are you still alone? Or is married life treating you well?"
Half-smirking while looking at her menu, Alice said, "Hardly a marriage."
"Yes, but you're both living in that huge house—"
"Which makes it very easy for us to avoid each other."
"And you're working together."
Alice's half smirk spread into a full smirk. "Among other things."
Lisa hit her hand on the table. "I knew it! I want details!"
"Forget it."
Fixing her with a look, Lisa asked, "So why tell me in the first place, except to torture me?"
"Maybe I think you've earned a little torture."
"For what?"
"I'll tell you later."
That brought Lisa up short. Up until now they had engaged in harmless girl talk. But there was something in Alice's tone, a seriousness that had been wholly absent from their conversation since the train first pulled in.
Before she could pursue it, however, the young woman with the black hair