Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 20

           Ithinkit’sfunnythathe’sataxaccountant,becauseitseemslikesuchstiffworkforsuchalightheartedguy.Ontheotherhand,Lucathinksit’sfunnythatthere’sanothersideofme-thisYogaside-thathe’sneverseen.Hecan’timaginewhyIwouldwanttogotoIndia-andtoanAshram,ofallplaces!-whenIcouldjuststayinItalyallyear,whichisobviouslywhereIbelong.Wheneverhewatchesmesoppinguptheleftovergravyfrommyplatewithahunkofbreadandthenlickingmyfingers,hesays,"WhatareyougoingtoeatwhenyougotoIndia?"SometimeshecallsmeGandhi,inamostironictone,generallywhenI’mopeningthesecondbottleofwine.

           Lucahastraveledafairamount,thoughheclaimshecouldneverliveanywherebutinRome,nearhismother,sinceheisanItalianman,afterall-whatcanhesay?Butit’snotjusthismammawhokeepshimaround.He’sinhisearlythirties,andhashadthesamegirlfriendsincehewasateenager(thelovelyGiuliana,whomLucadescribesfondlyandaptlyasacquaesapone-"soapandwater"inhersweetinnocence).Allhisfriendsarethesamefriendshe’shadsincechildhood,andallfromthesameneighborhood.TheywatchthesoccermatchestogethereverySunday-eitheratthestadiumorinabar(iftheRomanteamsareplayingaway)-andthentheyallreturnseparatelytothehomeswheretheygrewup,inordertoeatthebigSundayafternoonmealscookedbytheirrespectivemothersandgrandmothers.

           Iwouldn’tmovefromRome,either,ifIwereLucaSpaghetti.

           LucahasvisitedAmericaafewtimes,though,andlikesit

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