clothing-manufacturing business was also an inherited family business.
“They had a son, but the boy was killed in a diving accident when he was nineteen.”
“That’s terrible,” said Ana sympathetically.
“They still have a daughter. She’s sixteen now.”
“What a blessing. She doesn’t show any interest in the business?”
“From what I’m told, she’s more into soccer. Her team was the state champs last year.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
“I make it my business to know whom I’m dealing with,” Erik said matter-of-factly. “Besides, Leo likes to talk about his family.”
“What about his wife?”
“He met her in Rome when he visited the old country for the first time, is how he put it. It was love at first sight. He learned Italian in order to communicate with her.”
“You mean he’s Italian and didn’t speak Italian?”
“Italian was the language his grandfather spoke, and he never quite mastered. But when he met Teresa she refused to speak English so he had to learn it.”
“Smart woman,” said Ana laughing softly.
“Yes, he later found out she could speak English all along.”
“Very smart woman,” she added as she nodded her head to the beat of the music. “Who is that?”
“Howlin’ Wolf,” Erik told her. “He was known for classic Chicago blues. Like Muddy Waters.”
He knew Ana was slowly working her way through American blues singers. She loved the gutbucket blues the best, the rough-and-ready singers who got under your skin with the emotion in their voices.
“He’s got a gritty, sexy tone to his voice,” she said. “I could listen to him all night.”
Erik grinned, “Are you blushing?”
“No,” she denied, eyes on the road. “Tell me more about him.”
“He was a big guy,” Erik said, “six-six and almost three hundred pounds.”
“He sounds big,” Ana said.
“He and Muddy Waters were rivals. I don’t know why, exactly, but they reportedly didn’t like each other much.”
“Probably a professional rivalry,” Ana suggested. “They competed for jobs, maybe record deals, maybe even women.”
“They probably didn’t have to compete for women. Women love musicians. There were undoubtedly enough to go around.”
“Who knows, maybe they were in love with the same woman,” Ana countered. “Men have feuded over women since the beginning of time. Remember Helen of Troy?”
Erik laughed. “The blues is usually about a broken romance,” he said. “You could be right.”
They talked about the blues and listened to it the entire trip. It was nearly noon when Ana turned onto the long driveway that led to the Barone house, a three-story Tudor-style mansion on the outskirts of Bridgeport. There were three other late-model cars parked on the circular drive.
Ana parked the Corvette and turned off the engine. Shy by nature, she was always a little apprehensive about meeting new people. “Here we are,” she said to Erik hesitantly.
Before they could get out of the car, the Barones, looking relaxed in their casual weekend clothes and warm jackets, came out of the house, welcoming smiles on their faces.
“Oh my God, it is Ana Corelli!” Julianna Barone cried, sprinting to the driver’s side and pulling open the door. “When Daddy said Mr. Whitaker was bringing his lady friend, Ana Corelli, I thought to myself, ‘Not the Ana Corelli!’ But it is you!”
Ana got out and was immediately enveloped in Julianna’s arms. Ana hugged her back. Then they peered into each other’s faces. “It’s good to meet you…” Ana began.
“Julianna. I’m sorry. Where’re my manners?” Juliana said.
“I was wondering that myself,” said Teresa Barone. She was in her early fifties, five-six and curvy with tanned skin. Her dark brown hair was cut short and framed her lovely face nicely.
“This is my mom, Teresa,” said Julianna.
“Welcome to our home,” said Teresa in Italian, having noticed Ana’s accent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ana.”
Ana smiled, loving the way the language tripped off the other woman’s tongue. It had been a while since anyone other than her family had spoken in Italian to her. She answered in Italian and soon the two of them were speaking rapidly in the language. Teresa took her by the arm and led her inside with Leo, Erik and Julianna following.
“Forgive her,” said Leo to Erik, commenting on the fact that his wife had totally ignored him in favor of Ana. “It isn’t often she meets someone who speaks her native tongue as fluently as she does. It goes to her head. How was your trip?”
Erik told him they’d had a pleasant drive. He looked around him, at the beautiful house and acres of greenery. “Is that a stable?” he asked about the outlying building east of the house.
“It is,” Leo told him. He shaded his eyes with a hand as he looked across the field at the well-kept stables. “In good weather, Teresa and I ride every day. We’re trying to interest Julianna.”
“But I’m scared of horses,” Julianna finished for her father. She smiled up at Erik. She was taller than her mother, but had the same chestnut hair. However hers was long and fell nearly to her waist in waves. Her complexion was also somewhere between her mother’s dark skin and her father’s fairer skin. She and her father were nearly the same height at around five-nine.
She and Leo stood aside as Erik retrieved his and Ana’s luggage from the car’s trunk.
“Yes, well, I’ve never gotten used to them myself,” Erik told her. “My father raises horses. These days he calls himself a gentleman farmer, and horses are one of his obsessions.”
“Finally,” Julianna said, “someone else who doesn’t think horses are the noble beasts my parents think they are. Those things are big! They’ve got hard hooves and they bite!”
“They don’t bite,” Leo said, chuckling. “Well, I’ve never been bitten by one, anyway.”
“You’ve been lucky,” his daughter said.
Leo suggested they put the luggage in the foyer closet until after lunch.
By the time they got into the kitchen where Teresa had led Ana, the two women were already putting lunch on the table while chattering away.
Teresa looked up at her husband when they came into the room. “Ana tells me that her mother is
