Excerpt: Tutte Le Mie Voglie

July, 1948. Vincenzo Romero household, Bronxville, New York.

"Are you ever going to be off of house arrest?" Michael twirled the phone cord around his finger, jerking it just enough to arouse the interest of the kitten who sat across the room. "I have something to tell you."

Sam gave a weighty sigh. "Michael, I don't know. My mom's really mad at me. Dad doesn't care. He knows she was being insane. But mom runs the house."

"Your family is weird." Michael lay on the couch with his ankles crossed and took a sip from a glass of wine. The kitten pounced on the telephone cord and tried to disembowel it until Michael shooed it away.

"Yours is weird, too. What are you drinking?"

"Wine. Dad brought back some really fancy stuff from Naples. It's pretty good." He stretched and fiddled with the stem of the glass.

"Michael, why does your family let you drink wine?" asked Sam, leaning against the hallway wall, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs under cut-off jeans. It was nice not to have his mother around to give him the stink-eye, and he was taking full advantage of it.

Michael shrugged. "Why not? I mean, in Italy, the give the little ones watered wine with dinner." He picked up the throw pillow and shoved it under his head. "It's a different place, Sam." He paused. "Maybe it's a better place."

"Aw, don't say that, Michael," said Sam. "My dad fought for this country. He could have died, and it was all for your freedom."

"Yeah. My freedom to say I like Italy better."

Sam groaned. "Well, whatever. I'm glad you had a good time."

Michael was suddenly rather more serious. "I didn't have nearly as good a time as I would have if you'd been there."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam cleared his throat and scratched himself a bit, enjoying the relative privacy afforded him by his father's relaxed attitudes. "How many girls did you sleep with?... Compared to how many you would have slept with if I'd been there?"

Michael choked and coughed. "None!" He wiped at the telephone with a towel. "Jesus, Sam."

"Well," said Sam, "I had to ask!"

"Like hell!" Michael pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch. "Anyway... Sam, next time your mom's out, come by my house... please. I really want to see you. I have to talk to you."

"Okay. Um, I have to go. I think she'll be home soon."

Michael sighed. "Okay. I... I miss you."

"I miss you too. Jesus."

"Bye, Sammy."