“I think the American phrase is ‘all hell broke loose,’” said Vito chuckling.
We had arrived at the door of Café Amadeo at precisely the same moment and I held the door open as my friend limped across the threshold. He seemed to linger a millisecond more on each step, measuring his gait and watching the floor for obstructions. It was the unconscious behavior of a man worried about his balance, so I held back another second or two before following him, so as not to step too closely to his own stride.
The barista brought two coffees to our table as we slumped down onto the chairs. Then he swiftly spun around and grasped two plates that he had already arranged on the counter behind him. One had orange slices and the other was piled with cantucci, Vito’s favorite morning snack. He set the pl
