They passed the rest of the week in much the same way - spending time on the lake, sitting at the dock, evenings in front of the campfire or, when it rained, watching a movie.
All Evie had up there was old VHS tapes - mostly Disney - but nobody seemed to mind. She put a dutch oven full of popcorn on the fire, and poured melted butter over it. She and Nat knew all the songs, which had evolved into some pretty silly duets.
"Hey, do you guys mind if we do a detour on the way home?" Evie asked, cradling the phone that she'd just answered in between her shoulder and ear, covering the mouthpiece.
"I don't mind, why?" Steve shrugged. The others agreed.
"It's my Nonna, she wants to have us come visit. It'll tack another three hours onto our trip, but we can leave Saturday instead of Sunday, and stay with her, she has plenty of room."
"Your Nonna?" Wanda looked puzzled.
"My grandmother," Evie grinned. "Believe me, it'll be worth it. Her cooking is the best."
"Let's do it," Nat smiled at her.
"But..." Vision started to interrupt, staring at his hands. Evie patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, she knows about you. The only thing she might do is try to make you eat." Evie smiled, and then began chatting in rapid Italian. She hung up the phone, reaching behind her to replace the receiver. "She was talking to Mom, who told her I was in Canada. So she wants to see me, and she's excited to meet you guys, too."
"It's the first time I'll be meeting any of your family," Steve looked a little nervous.
"Don't worry, she'll love you. You have a healthy appetite, that's her favourite thing in the world," Evie grinned, crunching on a piece of bacon.
That Saturday morning they bid goodbye to the cottage, gathering all of the sheets into a laundry basket to bring back to Montreal, packing their bags and loading up the car. They piled into it, Steve and Evie in the front seat, Nat, Vision and Wanda in the back.
"It really is beautiful up here," Nat said, looking out at the trees as they bumped along the gravel road back to the main road. "Thank you for inviting us."
"Yes," Vision echoed. "I feel like this has been an interesting and fulfilling experience."
"You're welcome any time," Evie grinned into the rearview mirror. "Seriously, this has been the most fun I've had up here in years."
Evie cranked up the radio, rock music blaring, and she and Nat launched into an Aerosmith song. They made one stop, at an On Route on the 401, so Evie could put some gas in the car and everyone could stretch their legs, then continued on their way.
"And now," she said, as they pulled onto a bridge. "We're going onto the island of Montreal."
She wove her way around potholes, some drivers zipping past, half of them not using their turn signals.
"Okay," Steve said, gripping the dashboard. "I see what you mean about Montreal drivers."
"The main thing about driving here is to assume everybody is an asshole. Even you. And if you don't just do things, you'll never get anywhere. Nobody is gonna let you in while you're merging, you gotta just go." She swerved to miss a giant pothole. "Oh, and the roads are awful."
"There are a lot of orange cones," Vision observed.
"Oh, construction is an ongoing process, we probably have more of those than any city in the world. I don't even know if they're doing anything, they just put them there so people think they're working, that's my theory anyway."
She drove over the Turcot interchange, pointing out the scary looking patches, amused at the horrified reactions of her friends. She exited at Atwater and headed for Pointe St. Charles - The Pointe, as she explained. She parked in front of a row of duplexes, the outside stairs characteristic of Montreal architecture. She led them to one house in the row that had a beautiful front garden, full of flowers, knocked on the door, and opened it without waiting for an answer.
A tiny, bird-like woman came rushing when she opened the door, wiping her hands on an apron.
"Ciao, come va?" Evie bent to hug her, kissing her on both cheeks. "This is Steve. Steve, Nonna."
Nonna reached her arms out to him, and he had to bend to hug her, she was so petite, and she grasped his face, nattering in Italian. She turned to the rest of the friends and gave them the same treatment - a big bear hug, then a two-cheek bise. Even Vision. She hadn't even blinked. He was dressed in a pair of light grey dress pants and a button down shirt, and looked very tidy, compared to the rest of them in their jeans.
She led them through into a giant kitchen, complete with a dining room.
"Sit, sit," she told them, in her accented English. "I make lunch."
Through the windows, a giant garden took up the entire back yard. Vegetables - tomato plants, cucumber, fruit trees, everything imaginable - took up the patch of land.
They sat around the table, and Nonna pulled off her apron, serving them bruschetta on freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven. She sat with them, next to Vision, who sat with his elbows politely kept off the table, but didn't serve himself.
"You no eat?" she asked him, regarding him curiously.
"I don't require food, no," he replied, giving her a wan smile.
"Ah, you eat for pleasure, then," she told him, serving him a piece of bruschetta. "You don't need, but you enjoy anyway."
Evie smiled at him from across the table in amusement as he picked up the piece of bread, laden with tomatoes seasoned with basil from her garden, and took a tentative bite. His eyes widened.
"This is... very good," he said, after he swallowed a bite. "Thank you."
"Prego. You're welcome," she turned to Evie. "I make eggplant parmigiana for lunch, lasagna for dinner."
"You're trying to fatten me up," Evie laughed.
"You too skinny anyway," she gesticulated dismissively, as the oven beeped. She bustled into the kitchen, and came back wearing oven mitts, carrying a tray of delicious smelling eggplant, which she placed on a trivet. She served everyone, and added a bit of salad, also fresh from the garden, and passed around her homemade balsamic vinaigrette.
"Vino?" she asked, uncorking a bottle. "I make myself."
"Of course," Evie grinned, taking the bottle from her and pouring a little into everyone's glass, the fragrant red liquid shimmering in the sunlight that came through the window. "She really makes it herself. She has grape vines in the garden."
"Do you grow all of your own food?" Vision asked curiously, as he bit into a piece of the eggplant.
"Yes," she replied. "I have chicken, too. Not supposed to in the city, but neighbours don't mind, I give them the eggs and my tomato sauce. Nobody tell on me."
"Ah, Nonna, food bribery always works," she chuckled, touching Steve's hand.
"He is handsome, your man," Nonna teased. Steve went red around the ears. "Is good. I like. He is polite."
"That he is," she nudged him with her shoulder. "Handsome, polite, brave."
"Good," Nonna grinned at him.
After lunch, espresso with sambuca and amaretti cookies, they stayed around the table. Steve and Vision rose, insisting on doing the dishes, Steve washing, Vision drying.
"I like them very much," Nonna told Evie, sitting at the table sipping her coffee with the rest of the girls.
"Me too," Evie grinned. When they'd finished, Evie rose to help them put away everything.
"Come, we go sit in the parlour," Nonna said, leading them into the front room of the house.