“Nonna likes Halloween, but draws the line at a costume, although she's been known to scare small children as she looms over them in her stark black, screeching at them to have some M&M's.”

“The Fall Ball," I told her. "Our Halloween dance.""Ah.You have a boy to go with?""Absolutely.Frankie."She sighed, and perched on the edge of my bed.Her feet dangled a good six inches off the floor. "I like your Frankie, but he's not going to make pretty bambini with you.""Nonna!""Well,is he?No." She leaned forward. "Now, that boy with the nice voice and bony mother.He might do."I sighed. "He might do a lot of things, Nonna." I'm not one of them. "Dancing with me is not one of them.""He liked my pane.""Yup.He did.""And you.He likes you.""Nope.That he does not.""Hmph.You with all the answers about boys."That made me smile. "Apparently, I don't even know the right questions.""Who does? Even kings don't know te right questions.Eh,did you know there is a love story between a king and a queen in your history? Here." She patted the bed. "Get in, cucciola. I will tell you.”

“Pretty,eh?"I jumped a foot. "Nonna!"She was standing in my doorway, beaming like a demented gnome. "For your underwater dance.""It looks like....a toga.""Toga," she sniffed as she stalked across the room to lift the dress from its hanger, "is for boys at silly parties. This is for a goddess." She held it up to me. "You will be Salacia, Roman goddess of water."It still looked like a toga, and not a very big one, although it did almost reach the floor. My legs would be covered, which was all well and good, except that, other than going a little too long without defuzzing, I didn't have much of a problem with my legs. I did know this wasn't going to work. I just had no idea at the moment how I was going to make it not happen."This is awfully...pagan of you, Nonna."She rolled her eyes. "Ai, sixteen, with the smart mouth and such certainty. You think I just read the Bible? A goddess, she has more fun than a saint.""Nonna!""Ah!" She poked me in the center of the chest with her middle finger. "Fun, si, but a bad end if she thinks to hold the heart of a boy who wants only to play. Salacia, she let Neptune chase her and chase her and prove his heart was true."I didn't argue. My grasp of Greco-Roman mythology is shaky at best, and derived mostly from the Percy Jackson books. I had my doubts about Neptune's heart, but figured it would only be smart-assy to mention that to my grandmother.”

“Maybe if he hadn't paused to take an audible breath, we wouldn't have heard it. But as it was, the creak from the floor outside my half-open door came in loud and clear. Alex shot up like he'd been poked with a sharp stick. I crossed the room in a single breath and jerked open the door.Nonna, halwayf past my room and clearly heading for the stairs, looked like something out of a cartoon. Her shoulders were hunched, she had one foot lifted off the floor, and she was cringing. "Oh,Fiorella. I am sorry!"In an alernate universe, another Ella was frantically reassuring her shrieking grandmother that nothing had happened, she had not endangered her immortal soul, and it would be a very good thing, please, if Poppa's revolver went back into its dusty case.In this one,Nonna had a gun forefinger to her own temple. She popped her thumb and rolled her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped aside. "Um...Nonna, this is Alex Bainbridge. Alex, this is my grandmother..."He was already across the room, hand extended. "Buongiorno, Signora Marino. Piacere di conosceria."She responded with a delighted cackle and a torrent of Italian. I caught "welcome" and "sausage." Of course, I might have been wrong about both. Alex listened attentively, then gave her a crooked smile. "Scusi, signora. I don't speak Italian. Well, much,anyway. I just practiced a couple phrases for...um...practice.""Ah"-Nonna reached up to pinch Alex's cheek, not to hard-"it doesn't matter. You have me at buongiorno. Now, come,come.”

“I thought maybe she would have been an okay teacher. If she hadn't been guaranteed to scare the opinions right out of just about anyone at Willing who might possess one.”

“She peeked inside the box,then slapped the top back down and glared at me. For a second I wondered if I'd broken some rule of business or cultural propriety. "Homemade?" she demanded."My grandmother."She peeked again,and groaned softly. "I don't know whether I love you or hate you right at this moment." She closed the box firmly. "Of course I'll supervise your article.""The cannoli weren't meant to be a bribe.I just...thought you might like them.""I'm sure I will," she sid crisply, "a great deal.Just as much as I will not like the extra twelve hours on the treadmill." Then her face softened. "Thank you.What a treat. What I started to say about mentoring is that I don't normally do it. Apparently I scare students. But I would be happy to help you however I can."It was my turn to thank her. I added, "You don't scare me.""Really?" She stared at me over the sharp frame of her glasses."Well,maybe a little," I admitted. "Sometimes.""Excellent. Now skedaddle.”

“She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a pair of gunmetal-framed reading glasses. She flicked them open, switchblade-style, with a snap of her wrist, and shoved them onto her nose.”