Chapter Thirteen
Christmas Eve dinner was a subdued affair. The several varieties of fish - fried, sauced, served cold in salads - were carefully if unenthusiastically prepared and consumed without the usual fawning compliments. Table talk centered on quotidian complaints – the rising cost of goods, extra-long lines at the markets, the extended cold weather snap – skirting the subject uppermost in everyone’s mind.
Once the table was cleared, the men played a card game, Briscola, which I’d almost but not quite mastered during my student days. When the women had finished their chores, they prepared for midnight mass. Signora Eugenia asked me along, and I graciously obliged, since by then I was down several hundred lire.
At dawn, I was awoken by the downstairs clatter, the womenfolk prepar
