"Ah, good." Marco has found me in the living room. "I have news. The mayor is coming for dinner..." Marco stands very still, and I can hear faint music in the distance.

"Cheese truck," Marco says. "Come with me."

We take the path to the road, and a little white van comes slowly around the corner. Marco waves it down, and the van comes to a quiet stop. There is a little horn mounted on the van, and I can hear the chugging of a compressor. The window on the side of the van slides open, and a little man puts out his head to us.

"Raphael," Marco says. "Hello!"

"It is good to see you, Marco. I thought I might find you today." He waves us over, and we move to the window. I can see a little of the inside. The ceiling is full of pegs strung with cheeses, swinging slowly above Raphael's head. "How fares your parmigiano?"

"She is old, but she still walks," Marco says. "My subscription is all right?" Raphael nods at that, and Marco peers into the truck. "I have need of other things." Raphael steps back and spreads his hands, bumping into cheese with his head.

"Provelone," Marco says pointing, and a round ball in string is handed to me, and I hang it from my arm. "Fontina from the valley," and I am given a little wheel, which I leave in the crook of the other. "Gorgonzola."

Raphael grins. "Are you having guests?" Marco nods with a sad smile, and I am given a block of butcher paper, already greasy. I hold it very carefully.

"You are lucky," Raphael says. He leans out of the truck in conspiracy. "Di bufala. I have it."

Marco stops. "How long?"

Raphael beams at him. "You are my first today. I came from there: 45 minutes, maybe less." Marco asks me if Juliet is in the house, and I say I think she is. Marco holds up 4 fingers, and four pearled balls appear on a clean piece of paper, placed into Marco's hand.

Marco takes the wheel from me to free my hand, and offers me the paper. It rustles with the movement, and the cheeses are wet and fat.

"Eat," he says. "They are very bad at waiting."