Lucas and I spent the morning cleaning up. Around one, Catalina showed up with a lasagna that smelled amazing. As she helped us cut and plate it, she told us how Iria and Blas’s granddaughter had shown up the afternoon before and there would be a barbecue that evening.
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Judith,” Catalina said. “She’s a lovely little girl.”
“Little girl? How old is she?” Lucas inquired.
“Eighteen.”
Lucas grabbed forks from the drawer and glasses from a cabinet, handing them to me to set out on the table. As he passed me on his way to the fridge, he bumped me intentionally with his hips. He loved trying to get on my nerves, and I always played along.
Catalina was watching us. Then she looked around as though seeing the place for the first time. I caught her looking at me with a special kind of tenderness. I barely knew her, but I adored her in a way I struggled to understand.
I walked her to the door while Lucas finished setting the table. She looked back at me before stepping out and reached up to stroke my hair.
“Giulio told me about the classes and about what happened to you. I’m so sorry,” she said softly.
“It’s fine.”
“I hope so. Anyway, you seem to be fitting in well here. I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
I had the sense she was looking deep into my heart as she told me, “You know, everybody’s got to find a place where they fit in. People they can trust, people they can tell their hopes and fears to. We all deserve for someone to look in our eyes and tell us we’re good. That we matter.”
I nodded and looked down, not wanting her to notice how her words were affecting me. I didn’t know if I really deserved what she was saying, but it was something I’d always wanted. I wasn’t used to having anyone there to pick me up when I fell. I wasn’t used to the warmth of someone holding me up so I wouldn’t drown. I felt myself clinging to her tight as she told me, “I’ll see you at dinner,” and I replied, “You sure will.”
I looked at myself one last time in the bathroom mirror. I barely recognized myself. The bags under my eyes were gone, my cheeks were pink, I’d put on a little weight, and my tan made the white of my dress stand out. It was a little skimpy, with a square neckline and lace straps.
I was nervous as I walked out, and Lucas looked up at me from the travel magazine he’d been reading. He took his time examining me before telling me, “You look incredible.”
Shyly, I asked if I hadn’t overdone it.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” He rubbed his hands on his jeans as he stood and said, “I’ll take the drinks if you’ll carry down the appetizers.”
We were the last people down there. Iria and her granddaughter came over as soon as they saw us. Judith was petite, her face round, her hair short and dyed blue. She was wearing a shirt with a band logo I didn’t recognize and platform boots with laces. She was a nice girl, and smiled easily, and I liked her right away.
“You’re into them?” Lucas asked, pointing at her T-shirt.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“They’re not really my thing. But some of that British alternative metal I’m into.”
“Yeah,” Judith said. “That stuff is too soft for me.”
“You young people don’t have an ear for music,” Iria said. “Carlos Gardel, Rodolfo Biagi, Nat King Cole…now that was music.”
“Nat what?” Judith asked.
Iria rolled her eyes and hugged her, dragging her off to see Julia’s nephews.
“Grandma, I don’t want to,” Judith protested.
“They’re sweet, and they’re your age,” Iria responded.
Marco announced dinner was ready, and we sat around the table, which was overloaded with food. Everyone talked and joked, the silverware clanged, glasses clinked, platters moved from hand to hand. Angela was next to me and wouldn’t stop refilling my glass. When the cork came out of the second bottle, my only choice was to get away from her.
Amid the chitchat and stories of people whose names didn’t even ring a bell, I felt good—good and full. I was a part of them. It was as if this had always been my home, my people, my family.
