His son, Davide, had texted, wanting money for new football boots.
Nikki had also sent him three texts since the incident at the police station—when he’d yelled at her boss. He wasn’t proud of that moment. It wasn’t like him to let his anger get the better of him, and he felt strange about it now. To his relief, Nikki didn’t seem upset. She could get mad, but it was rarely about stupid things. He sent her a message, asking if she wanted to meet. There was insurance paperwork they needed to sign for their boat. Of course, he could have just emailed it to her, but he hadn’t seen her for a while, and it seemed good to have her company right now.
He was looking at his phone when a text came through from a number he didn’t recognize.
Ines says Gaetano will come home tonight. Is it true?
Valerio looked for a moment before writing back,Who is this?
Ravenna.
Yes, he typed.It’s true.
There was a long pause, then she wrote,I was wrong about you.
Valerio stared at those words, and in his mind’s eye, saw those tight brown curls, and the expressive dark eyes of the beautiful nurse.
As he thought this, as if she somehow knew his mind was on her, she sent him one more word:Grazie.
The uncomfortable sensation in his chest released. The pizza, which had sunk like lead in his belly, seemed to rest more easily.
—
The bar was called Point Break, named in honor of the 1991 movie that Dario, the bar owner, had loved. Dario was a childhood friend from the old neighborhood. Valerio had lost touch with him for the better part of two decades before running into him again in Quartieri Spagnoli after his divorce.
Dario was married to a woman fifteen years his junior named Graziella. Voluptuous and kind, she always painted her wide mouth red, as if to outline the large white teeth of her smile. Her perfume, citrus and cinnamon, made Valerio think of pastries. Her dark hair was cutin a flattering fringe, and she wore big sparkling earrings and necklaces.
“Buona sera, sweetie,” she said when Valerio arrived, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She was soft and warm.
“Ooh, you smell like camping,” she said with a throaty chuckle. “What can I get you? Peroni?”
“Sì, grazie!”
She glided back indoors, and Valerio shuffled behind one of the upright barrels that, balanced unsteadily on the slanting paving stones, served as an outdoor table. Point Break was little larger than a closet, with a counter running along the back wall. The interior was finished in dark wooden beams, shrinking it even further. There were only two cramped tables for indoor seating. Outside were three wooden barrels and wobbly stools. Christmas lights draped across spindly poles, providing lighting. Despite the hour and the chill, the street was full of people walking past them, up and down the hill.
Valerio sniffed at his jacket. The recent cold weather had prompted him to pull it out of his closet and he wasn’t sure it was clean. It stank of woodsmoke and stale beer. He had vague memories of a long-ago fire on the beach, and beers with some of the guys from work.
Graziella brought his beer and a plate of olives and chips.
He relaxed as he drank, and chatted with Graziella, who had opinions about politics, about art, and about the old woman who lived in their building who had been trying to touch her belly ever since Graziella’s pregnancy started to show. The evening grew chillier, but Valerio didn’t mind. He had one beer, then another, and another.
Nikki was late. Dario showed up and had a beer with him.
By the time he spotted Nikki striding up the hill towards him, Valerio was relaxed for the first time in days.
“Ciao, bella!” He waved, and stood to greet her.
“You look like hell,” he said as they hugged.
It was their joke, but this time it was actually true. She had that fiery expression that frightened devils away.
“So do you,” she said.
“I ordered you a gin and tonic,” he told her, then raised his bottle toDario, who was standing in the doorway, smoking a cigarette. “Another of these.”
“Thanks,” said Nikki, as they settled onto uncomfortable stools. “How’s your mother? Sonia said she was the one…a witness…in the church.”
Valerio drained the last of his beer, thought of the messages his sisters had left, and felt guilty for not checking in with them. He’d had time in the past few hours—he could have driven out and visited his mother, but it was just too much.
