Page 45 of Cinderella-ish
He exits the highway and we take some side streets until he turns onto a street called Via Confortino. And then we pull into a parking lot in front of a smallfactory.
“And here we are: my uncle’sfactory.”
The two of us are out of the car for only thirty seconds when a tall, thin man with dark hair and a well-trimmed salt-and-pepper-colored beard approaches, arms spread out, headed right for Antonio. “Benvenuto, nipote mio!” He cups Antonio’s face in his large hands, planting a kiss on one cheek, then theother.
“Hello, Uncle Carlo. It’s great to see you,” Antonio says, switching the conversation from Italian to English, for my benefit, Iassume.
His uncle looks at me with widened eyes and raised eyebrows. “Ooooh. Such a beauty. Is this a girlfriend you’ve been hiding, eh,beldiavoletto?”
Antonio swallows his embarrassment and clears his throat. “Uncle Carlo, this is Daniella Belle. My newassistant.”
“’Your assistant?E cosi che si chiama,adesso?”
Antonio rolls his eyes. “No, Uncle. Assistant still means assistant. Not a new term forgirlfriend.”
Uncle Carlo approaches and greets me in the same manner he did Antonio, planting a kiss on one of my cheeks before moving to the other. “It’s good to meet you, Daniella Belle. And welcome toItaly.”
He stands between me and Antonio and claps his hands. “Shall we go on in? We’ve got lots of work to do, Ihear.”
He leads the way through the factory doors, taking us past endless rows of floor-to-ceiling shelving filled with layers of color-categorized garmentfabric.
We end up in an office, its walls splattered with labeled sketches of all sorts of designs—from coats, to pants, to shoes, dresses, andlingerie.
He encourages me to sit on a small white sofa, perched against a copper-toned wall displaying vibrant artwork of small Italian cities. I sit down, sinking into the couch cushions, feeling a little tired now. Jet lag to blame, nodoubt.
He sits on the edge of his desk, and opens a drawer, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Mind if Ismoke?”
Antonio shakes his head. “Uncle Carlo…put those away. Does Aunt Bettina know you’re smokingagain?”
Uncle Carlo grimaces, placing the pack of cigarettes and lighter back in the desk drawer. “No. And you better not tell her.” He smiles. “I’m doing much better now anyway, only down to one or two cigarettes a week.” He coughs and grabs a bottle of water and takes a long sip. “Oh, can I offer you both something todrink?”
I shake my head and both Antonio and I offer a “No thank you,” in harmoniousunison.
Uncle Carlo laughs. “Hmm. Soon you two will be completing each other’s sentences.” He professes, his thick Italian accentbrimming.
What is that supposed tomean?
“So, Uncle, let’s discuss the designs. Do you have thesketches?”
“Yes, of course.” Uncle Carlo removes a black portfolio from the top of his desk and hands it over toAntonio.
“Great. I just need to tweak these a bit and then get them back to you tomorrowmorning.”
“Not big tweaks, Ihope?”
“No. Very subtle, but necessary. Anyway, we need to look at fabric that is…lesssheer.”
“Certainly. Followme.”
Antonio and I spend the next couple of hours perusing all sorts of fabric from sheer lace to sheer chiffon, along with numerous types of silk, then rayon, spandex, nylon, cotton, and even some knit fabric. We then create a book full of swatches of fabrics we like best, in addition to swatches of colors we think befits the style we wish to emulate. And all the while I am beaming inside, gratified Antonio is affording me the opportunity to assist with picking out fabrics and colors on a project sograndiose.
Soon after, we pack up and head out, promising to return early the nextmorning.
“See you here bright and early then.A domani.” Uncle Carlo waves as we driveoff.
“Thanks for your help, Daniella. Your design training has proved most significant. I’m really happy you accepted the job.” Antonio looks at me andsmiles.
I offer a smile in return when his phone rings, and he instantly answers, “Sì, Nonna. Sto guidando, ci vediamo presto.” He ends the short call, with a satisfying glow on hisface.
