Marietta(Dill McLain) It was a wonderful spring day that made hearts beat faster and motivated people to lively new beginnings, and encouraged all sorts of happy deeds here and there. So it was the case with Marietta. That morning, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror longer than usual. She put on her make-up carefully and checked her work several times with controlling gestures and almost dramatic lifting of her eyelids. She felt great and rejuvenated. And she was convinced that no soul would ascribe to her the 63 years that she really had under her belt.

Marietta had been a widow for five years. Her husband, who was two decades older than her, had died after suffering from severe pneumonia. He had left her an excellent fortune to continue to live in the spacious condominium into which they had moved after selling their family home. The five years of her widowhood life had somehow crumbled away, passed her by without her realizing it. Everything had run smoothly, with no significant highlights or special events. Over time, she felt bored. She no longer had the same interest in vacation travel as before. The fascination had blown away after she had done sightseeing in foreign cities several times alone and therefore rather listlessly, or had taken endless walks along white beaches in distant lands.
On various group trips, she felt like the 5th wheel on the car amid all the married couples, and she did not want to travel with married couples that were friends because, in her opinion, this would have given her the role of a disruptive factor. So she lived from day to day, took regular yoga classes, courses in water aerobics, and went on bike trips in the surrounding area. Concerts and art exhibitions were always part of her program, and to the cinema, she went weekly.

In the last winter, an inner restlessness had arisen, the feeling of having missed something. She decided – although afraid of it – to register on an online platform, hoping to find a new partner on this path. This had been suggested to her several times by different friends. Thereupon, she had bravely registered in such a platform and, with medium enthusiasm, read the partner suggestions that were soon received in her online mailbox. After five so-called ‘dates’ with interested ‘partner candidates’ who all seemed terribly petty and who wanted to spend the night with her more or less immediately, her hope turned into final perplexity. Finally, she considered trying her luck in the coming spring with renewed courage and the traditional way.
Twice a week, she drove into town, strolling along casually one or the other shopping street with a happy face, stopped here and there, always carefully on the lookout. These forays also took her to the large bookstore in the center of the city. There she eyed books on different floors but always let her gaze wander mainly to the right or left, assuming that a suitable gentleman might appear. In the end, she used to sit in a well-known boulevard café with a glass of Prosecco, lovingly smiling into the scene and always full of expectation. However, up to that day, all of this had been for nothing, as she resignedly thought to herself. But yet she did not want to give up. And just now, spring had really hit her hard.

In front of the mirror in the corridor, Marietta paused again. She adjusted the collar of her chic jacket and then turned around her axis elegantly like a diva, looking over her shoulder examining her reflection in the mirror. Yes, actually, she was delighted with her appearance.
In a happy mood, she got on the well-occupied tram. As there was no vacant seat in sight, she stopped by the door and held onto the bar while the tram started.
Now a neat young man jumped up and politely offered her his seat. Marietta was delighted and slowly sank into the seat, nodding gently at the young man with a radiant smile. Oh, she wanted to sigh out loud with happiness. Her today’s excursion seemed to start very positively. For a while, she observed the young man, who seemed to have perfect airs and manners. He was now holding a little book in which he was reading with a rapturous smile.
At the next stop, an elderly lady got on the tram. She was walking on a stick and seemed a little awkward. The young man immediately rushed to her aid and accompanied her to a recently vacated seat.
Marietta now stared confusedly in the direction of the old lady with the stick. It struck her like a bolt of lightning, this terrible realization about her own situation. And she screamed at the young man with all her might,
"How did you get the idea that I am frail and need a seat? Why do you think of me as an old woman who no longer has a good equilibrium? I can still stand very well in the tram!"
She jumped up with an angry face and moved energetically towards the young man, who stuttered something to himself, completely frightened.

The tram now drove into a big curve of the track. Marietta lost her footing and stumbled straight ahead to a seat for two, in the aisle seat of which sat a man of her age with thick, grey hair. Intuitively wanting to hold on, she grasped the towering straps of the shopping bag parked on this passenger’s knees and finally fell to the ground with his bulging shopping bag. The bag emptied itself through this jerky action. Marietta lay there on the tram floor in the middle of oranges, avocados and many tomatoes in different colors and sizes.
"Like a surreal painting, perfect, absolutely great!" the older gentleman exclaimed enthusiastically. He hurried over to help Marietta to her feet while the neat young man from earlier picked up the goods scattered on the tram floor. Most other passengers in the area who had been absorbed in their cell phones until now looked up, grinning in amusement.
"Excuse my comparison, I am painter and poet and thus inspired a little differently than the great bunch. May I suggest that we get off at the next stop and get to know each other better?" came his pleasant voice.
But Marietta stood there, clutching a handrail, staring at him in disbelief.
"I can then also explain to you why I raised my son to always treat women well and to be charming."
The tram stopped, and before Marietta could reply, he skillfully led her off the tram. The young man followed with the shopping bag in his arms. Several passengers craned their necks and waved at them through the window.

Marietta suddenly felt utterly out of place. Her left knee hurt terribly, and the right wrist also seemed damaged from the fall because it had to suddenly carry her entire weight for a short moment, a reflex movement to ease the impact. In addition to all this, there was still a tremendous shock in her whole body. And then there was this horrible embarrassment. She felt miserable, would have loved to sink into the ground or hurry away.

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Serafino, and my son is called Angelo. We live around the corner, only two houses away. Please come with us, we have wonderful fresh pasta…!" Serafino could not finish the sentence because Marietta staggered, closed her eyes and literally fell into his arms. The two men carried her over to the large fountain and placed her on the broad rim on the narrow side of the faucet where she could lean against the high stonewall. Serafino supported her other side.
Marietta slowly opened her eyes again and whispered, visibly suffering, "My knee hurts, and something is wrong with my wrist, and I’m so embarrassed!"
"You are likely to have bruises. Do you think you can make it around the corner by foot if you lean on me? Then Angelo can examine your knee and wrist at home. You should know he’s a doctor!"
Marietta bit her lip and nodded vaguely. Serafino instructed his son to go ahead with the shopping bag and prepare the pasta lunch. Angelo, eagerly nodding, walked away with long strides.
"Come on, let’s go very slowly. I'll hold you around your waist!"
Very slowly, step-by-step, they moved forward, crossed a street and finally turned the corner and then soon stopped in front of the house entrance, where Angelo had left the door wide open. The elevator brought them to the attic apartment, where the two men skillfully placed Marietta on the sofa, supported by several large cushions. Angelo carefully examined her wrist and, nodding confidently, declared that nothing was broken and that it was bruised from the impact. With which she had probably prevented a worse injury. Then, he knelt in front of her and, with the utmost care, rolled up her left trouser leg to examine her knee, showing red patches from the fall. Marietta groaned slightly and clenched her teeth as he checked the functionality of the joint. Finally, Angelo announced, visibly relieved, that this was also a bruise. He patted her shoulder and told her, "I will rub the areas with gel for better healing and apply a supporting bandage. Hold on a moment. I’ll be right back!" After saying this, he disappeared into the corridor.

Now, Serafino came along and served her a glass of Prosecco, smiling charmingly and toasting her. When Angelo reappeared with ointment and bandages, Serafino bowed and said jokingly, "Well, the cook has to go back to the kitchen!" and left, walking backwards out of the room.
While Angelo took care of her injuries expertly, Marietta sipped her sparkling drink and, out of the blue, asked, herself, amazed at her impertinent question, "And where is your mother?"
No sooner had she said this than she regretted her indecent boldness and wanted to straighten her sudden and blatant question again, but she could not think of anything useful. And felt embarrassed again.
"Aha, my mother, well, she died a long time ago when I was still a boy. She died in a car accident together with her lover!"
"Well, so we got that sorted out right now, and I will just add that we are a male household, but we are pleased about your visit!" came Serafino’s voice from the doorstep. Before he turned around, he added cheerfully, "Now, please come to the table, the salad is served, and the pasta is ready too!"

Angelo had provided Marietta’s knee with an elastic sports brace, and on her wrist she wore a light support cuff. She sat there wholly bewildered at what was happening. At the same time, the aperitif was slowly doing its own thing. And she smiled, kind of bewitched and shrugging. Then, she got up slowly, gratefully holding onto Angelo’s arm, and hobbled out next to him in the direction of the kitchen. Now the three sat at a long, nicely laid wooden table in the middle of this large kitchen and enjoyed an incredible tomato salad. After a few minutes filled with polite everyday conversation, Serafino suddenly asked straight on, "Maybe you have to call home, so your husband doesn’t worry?"
After this sentence, he paused for a moment, fork in hand, visibly excited for an answer. Angelo also seemed to be waiting eagerly for something and stopped chewing.
"Oh no, nobody is waiting at home. I’m also widowed!" Marietta announced with a light smile, grabbed the wine glass in front of her and took a deep sip of the red wine. The two gentlemen sat silent and motionless for a moment as if they were statues. And then both burst out into joyous shouts at once, "Aha! What a coincidence!"
Serafino jumped up, happily announcing, "I’ll get the pasta now, Angelo. Please insert a CD. We want nice piano music!"
Marietta took another deep sip of red wine and examined Serafino from head to toe while he skillfully arranged the pasta on large plates and spread the butter flakes over it. Then elegantly added two spoons of sauce over each serving and brought the plates to the table.
"Please help yourself with Parmigiano!"
Pleasant piano music now sounded in the background, and both men took their seats at the table again.

Marietta pensively sprinkled cheese over her pasta and began to feel great. She slowly raised her eyelids and looked at Serafino. And then she said calmly, she was surprised herself, "I feel like I’m on vacation here!" No sooner had she said this than she paused, irritated by her own audacity, and looked from Serafino to Angelo, then back again.
"Great! Holidays, that’s the keyword now. We three will leave on Saturday for a vacation week in Italy!" Serafino applauded, then grabbed his wine glass and announced cheerfully, "Now, we really have a toast!"
They let the glasses clink, smiled at each other, and then took a long sip before turning with great appetite to the wonderfully fragrant pasta.

Marietta felt it was her responsibility to explain the mishap on the tram and, above all, to apologize for her rude and entirely misplaced shouting and behavior. The two men waved with a charming smile and said that it was not all that bad after all and that it finally led to this extraordinary meeting, which was the most important thing. Serafino put his hand reassuringly on Marietta’s arm and said, with a warm tone in his voice, "Oh, I wanted to explain that I raised my son to be gallant and polite towards women of all ages. It’s simply my own conviction and philosophy of life that my parents conveyed to me!"
After dinner, Angelo had to leave and from the corridor called over his shoulder, "Nice to have met you. See you on Saturday at the latest!"
Serafino explained to her in a loving voice, "My son has just passed his state examination as a doctor and is now celebrating with his colleagues. And this is why we three go for a week’s holiday in northern Italy before he then starts with his new job!"
Marietta sat there with a doubtful expression on her face, and she did not really know what to answer because it was not clear to her what was meant with ‘we three’. She was confused, and tiredness overcame her more and more. That was probably the wine and also the fall. Serafino realized what was happening to her and that there was a need for explanation.
"Well, let’s take a break now. You can lie down in the guest room. And in the evening the two of us can talk in detail about our next plans and ourselves. Your fall over my knees and with my shopping bag in the tram was great providence, this is clear, and I must say, I feel great happiness in me. Hopefully, you feel the same way…!"
He did not have to go on because Marietta nodded at him several times with downright dreamy eyes but a visibly heavy head with tiredness. He helped her up and accompanied her to the guest room, where she immediately lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.

A few hours later, Serafino knocked on the door of the guest room.
"Good evening Marietta, I’ve just made tea, and it’s time for an evening snack. We can talk extensively. I wait here to help you over to the living room!"
After a short moment, the door opened, and Marietta appeared smiling. The two sat in the living room until midnight, chatting happily about everything while they nibbled on the tiny toast bites that Serafino had prepared with fresh cheese, tomatoes, zucchini and cold roast. After finishing the tea, they switched to a bottle of rosé wine. Serafino also showed her his paintings and told her that he was initially a banker and had left his job prematurely. He just did not feel like it anymore and wanted to do something artistic. He also wrote poetry now and then with great pleasure and regularly went on interesting art trips.
They got along very well, and there was already a certain familiarity. It was as if the two had known each other for a while. Marietta stayed that night in the guest room – Serafino accompanied her to the door, kissed her goodnight.

The following day, he brought her freshly squeezed orange juice to the guest room. After they enjoyed a delicious breakfast and already behaved like a well-rehearsed couple. Later, they drove to her apartment. Serafino then went back home to finish some artwork. Marietta began to prepare for the upcoming trip, again and again, humming happily.
On Saturday morning, the three drove off and spent a wonderful holiday trip in northern Italy.
And it was the most natural thing in the world that on the return journey, they planned in detail Marietta’s moving in, which took place a few days later. They lived a happy life together and always laughed, amused when eating tomato salad, remembering the unusual meeting on the tram.

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