He didn’t confirm or deny this either way, and I sat back as my food was set down in front of me. I wasn’t sure what was polite in the situation, but I wanted to dive in. Give my hands and mouth something to do. He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, he was okay company, but what should be a woman’s response to that? I was saved by the waitress when she set Dante’s food down across from him. Hopefully the food would be so good, neither of us could speak after taking our first bites.
The food didn’t slow him down. He was super chatty, and it seemed like he was interested in every aspect of my life. Like…if this was a date, what would we have left to talk about on the second one? It wasn’t a date, though, so maybe it was okay for friends to chat about everything all at once. I reiterated what I had said earlier at his clinic. I grew up in New Orleans, but my dad’s parents were both born in Italy. My mom’s side was Italian, too, but had immigrated long before my paternal grandparents had.
Behind Dante, I noticed the boys who had followed me from thetavola caldato the shore the night before. They were sitting ata table, flicking glances my way, smiling and laughing a little obnoxiously.
The seating area suddenly hushed, and in the quiet, my voice seemed super loud, like when someone turns the volume of the radio down while someone else is blasting a lyric. Dante’s eyes narrowed and then widened. He stood abruptly, and the boys behind him seemed to scatter like mice in the wake of a dangerous cat, followed by Dante.
Suddenly, and out of the blue, it felt like a cold hand breezed across the heat of my neck.
By the time I made sense of it, it was too late. When I turned around, whatever, or whoever, had been behind me had vanished, just like the wind, but I could still scent him there. A rich cologne that made me inhale the air as if it was something much more powerful than that, and I clasped the pendant against my heart with my fingers, checking to see if the overreacting of my pulse had knocked the ruby loose.
Chapter 14
He Who Appears as a Man is no Ghost, Unless You Look into His Eyes
The entire ride back to my apartment, I kept looking over my shoulder, to the left and to the right, the handlebars shimmying with my excitement, hoping to catch a glimpse of my ghost. I knew it had been him standing behind me, but what I didn’t understand was the hasty exits of the men who all had their eyes on me.
Was it because the young boys were being obnoxious? I called them “young boys” even though they were probably around my age or just a little younger. They weren’t acting their ages, so… That still left Dante, who was older than me and acted his age. He’d left without a word to me, too, his ravioli growing cold and hard on his plate.
Pondering this, I parked the Vespa in the garage and removed my things from the basket. I stopped abruptly when I got to the threshold of the apartment, and a pang hit me in the chest that Pisolino wasn’t there to walk me up. The fat tabby was there, though, flicking his tail, giving me one stink eye.
“You’re next, buddy!” I pointed at him. “Dr. Accolti will be by to check on that eye of yours.”
He crouched low and did this weird tail wag thing, and I had a feeling he was going to use it like a propeller to launch himself atme. I took off for the door, getting inside a breath before he hit it with a resoundingthump!andrawwwr!
“Psycho cat,” I whispered to myself, taking the steps up two at a time.
In my apartment, I took a quick shower and dressed in a floral, laced-trimmed, blush-colored cami and short set. I twisted my damp hair up in a hair clip and went into the kitchen. I’d decided on the ride to the apartment from thetrattoriato make my ghost an offering. Nonna was famous for her focaccia bread, and she had taught me how to make it just as she had. We always added toppings that made the bread look like a Vincent Van Gogh painting. I had everything I needed for the bread and the toppings.
Green, white, and red onions. Yellow bell peppers. Basil leaves. Tomatoes—a few different varieties. Olives. Rosemary. Thyme. Pepperoni. Parmesan cheese.
I set my dough up to rise, knowing that, since the room was warm, it wouldn’t take as long to puff up. I left it on the counter while I wiggled my fingers, sat at the desk, and picked up where I’d left off in the story. Two or so hours later, I felt satisfied with the overflow of words, and I knew the dough was ready. I took two focaccia pans from the cabinet, greased them with olive oil, and added the dough to each. After a night in the fridge, I’d finish them off with the toppings and bake them.
It was hard to fall asleep. I kept thinking how close I had been to my ghost, and how, if I had turned around just a second before, I would have seen him. The thought energized me and made my heart rate skyrocket. There was no way I could sleep, and since I was satisfied with my words, and the bread wasn’t done yet…what to do? I looked through all the pictures on my phone, knowing sooner or later I’d have to check my messages. Before I arrived in Italy, my mailbox had been full. Remy kept leaving me messages.
You know you love me, Ari! Give us a chance!
It felt pushy, borderline…obsessive. I was glad I was away from him, too.
Yawning harder this time, I settled on the picture of the ghost in the window. I set my phone on the pillow next to me and fell asleep while starting at it, romantic music playing in the background. And even though I was intending to sleep late, I woke up early, even though it was my free day. It felt like a strike of lightning had gotten caught up inside of me, a human bottle, and it was keeping my heart racing, my feet moving at the same pace.
After breakfast, I finished the dough, dimpling it, coating it in olive oil, and then decorated it. On one sheet, I created sunflowers out of yellow peppers, using green onion and basil as stems and leaves. On the other, I just went wild. I set both pans in the oven, and while they baked, I changed into a cream-colored bathing suit and a pair of jean shorts. I kept my hair up, tying a scarf around it. I packed all I’d need for a day at the beach. I pulled out the bread before I left and set it on the counter to cool.
I’d drop off the bread tomorrow before starting at the red-pepper stall.
A rush of butterflies invaded my stomach at the thought and made me almost breathless. I had to force myself to take the steps one at a time (the stairway was narrow) as I raced toward the garage. I decided to take the car instead of the Vespa. It looked fun to drive, and there was less of a chance of the psycho cat surprising me and getting in a swipe or two. He reminded me of Garfield.
In Italy, I decided, he’d be…Garfielio. Glancing out the door, I didn’t see him, so I rushed to the garage and opened the door.
The car didn’t start the first time I turned the key over, but on the second turn, it sputtered to life, and I took off. I rolled the window down—yeah, rolled. It had a turn knob instead of a button. I let the fresh air flow through the interior. It smelled like someone might have gone fishing on its last trip and left a catch in the backseat. I hit the horn when no one was around and it wentMEEP, MEEP!When I passed the same two wives and two husbands still arguing about the dead car, I hit the horn again, and they all gave me blank looks before they waved.
I laughed, then left the car running while I ran into Dante’sclinic to pick up Pisolino. The doctor couldn’t speak to me, one of his nurses told me, but Pisolino would be fine and was ready to be picked up. Dr. Accolti had stitched up the worst of the cuts and was sending him home on antibiotics. The tech at the front desk gave me directions on how to use them. The other tech went to grab Pisolino, but instead of her carrying him out, she brought the carrier. His paw stuck out of the metal, claws out, and he was hissing. We decided to just open the door and see what he did.
We released him outside.
He darted out but then stopped, giving me a look, as if to say,tripletraitor!He disappeared, proving to himself that he was still king of wild cats. I gave him an Italian wave and said, “See you at dinner!”
Then I headed in the direction of the beach. It was packed, but I decided to brave it anyway.
