A car. A nun. A little secret.

This an episode about tiny little secrets. Do you have any? Have you been able keep them?

In my case, I can’t keep anything from Graham, my husband even when it’s in my best interest like the time I had two separate car accidents, in the span of a few days, both in front of our home in Montepulciano, nella bella Toscana.

Let’s begin with the first accident. Just so you know when I told Graham what had happened, I reversed the order of events. The reason is simple. In the second case I was a victim, (la vittima)  but in the first I was basically naïve o ingenua.

Okay so the main character in incidente numero uno, was a certain Nun who no longer lives in Montepulciano.

Let’s call her Sister Goodness or Suor Bontà.

She’s young, giovane/ honest,/ onesta  and has the energy of a Duracell battery with a smile that lights up the sky.  It’s that innocence of hers that catches me off guard every time.

One day I met Suor Bonta’ on the street right in front of our home. She was nervous because she was working on getting her driver’s licence. You need to understand that driving for her was not only a matter of freedom but a point of pride that would have put her on the same level playing field as the other sisters.

That fateful day, when we saw each other on the street  Suor Bontà had just had a driving lesson on parallel parking in reverse.  At the end of it, her instructor told her to  practice as much as possible because on the day of the exam she would be scared and nervous. Makes sense.

Italian instructor voice.

So, in seeing me with Grigia, my Italian rental car, she begged me to let her work on parallel parking.

“Silvana, ti prego di lasciarmi fare un po’ di pratica con Grigia.”

For a split second, I hesitated because according to the insurance policy, I was the only one allowed to drive the rental.  

Before you know it, we were both in the car.  Sister Bontà in the driver’s seat adjusting the rear-view mirror, and I’m next to her doing up my seat belt.  And just as I am about to tell her to be careful , Suor Bonta’  makes a quick and decisive move putting Grigia in first gear, not in reverse, causing her to sprint forward, not backwards,  banging into the gate in front.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t any ole’ gate, it so really old one – meaning historical because it dates back to the 16th century made of wrought iron. Ferro battuto

 It is also an entrance to one of the most prestigious wine cellars of Montepulciano where the famous Vino Nobile is stored in hundreds of wine barrels.

Accidenti – Dang!    Caspita ­– Yikes

We quickly jumped out of the car, to look at the damage done to both the hood and the gate.

Grazie a Dio there is only a little bit of paint has been pealed off the historic gate; Grigia, however, was worse off with a good dent.

We looked at each other. Suor Bontà, became pale (palida) and so did I. And both of us feeling colpevole or guilty.

Tearing running down her angelic face, she made me swear (giurare) to never tell the (La Madre Superiora) or the other nuns what had happened because they would never stop teasing her.

Truth be told, with respect to me, I was more concerned about Graham who, once I would have told him, would have shaken his head and given me that  looks that says “what were you thinking…were you out of you mind.”

And being  (buone cattoliche) good Catholics, Suro Bonta’ and I agree to meet in to Church (in Chiesa) later that day to pray and atone for our guiltly feelings.

Me, for not knowing how to say no, and Suor Bonta’ for taking advantage of my own goodness.   (THE END)