She flinched as a pigeon zipped by her head. Thousands of its fellows strutted along the gray and white stones of the piazza. Tourists snapped photos, admired the Duomo and surrounding buildings, tried to feed the birds. Jake clung to Angela’s side as another one zipped by, but then he laughed.
“You all right?” Noah asked.
“We’re fine.” She oriented herself and started cutting through the crowd, a gentle but firm grip on Jake’s hand. Over her shoulder she called, “What’d you end up doing last night?”
Noah pulled out his phone to snap a few photos. “I actually ran into Ramin again at a little restaurant. We ended up eating together.”
Angela’s eyebrows slowly raised, a move he remembered all too well. It meant she could tell there was more there but was waiting for you to say something she could use to pin you down. It was probably why she was such a great lawyer.
“You didn’t tell me!” Jake frowned. “I wanted to have dinner with Ramin!”
“Jakey, you were asleep.”
“You could’ve woken me up.”
Noah looked from Jake to Angela, whose eyebrows had gone from skeptical to bewildered.
“You’re always doing things without me!”
“Jake…” Noah didn’t know what to say. His whole life revolved around Jake. The only things he did without Jake were work and the gym.
Where was all this coming from?
“Jake,” Angela said. “Your father’s allowed to have friends.”
“I guess,” Jake muttered. But he clung to Angela as they made their way through the piazza.
Noah prayed it was just Jake’s hunger talking. Or jet lag. He didn’t understand it. Truly.
Noah and Jake had always been close. All through Jake’s childhood, Noah had been the one who did most of the parenting. He was around more, and he was more suited to it, too. Angela had never been the most patient. Her decisiveness had always served her well as a lawyer, but Jake wasn’t a witness to be deposed. He was a child, and sometimes he needed to get his feelings out, even if those feelings didn’t make sense. Sometimes he needed to make his own choices, even if they were different from those Angela or Noah would make. Sometimes he just needed to try and fail at things, because how else was he going to learn?
Noah had always, always done better with Jake. So how had it come to this? Why was Jake suddenly mad at him all the time?
“It’s just a phase,” Angela said softly as she studied the map on her phone. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I know.” That didn’t make it any easier.
They skirted the edge of the piazza and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, an enormous glass-ceilinged shopping center with open arches wide enough to drive a semi through. They passed high-end fashion stores, a gelato cart (thankfully Jake was looking the other way), and even a busker playing an impressive rendition of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” before turning down a narrow side street.
“Here we are.” Angela looked up from her phone. “Oh.”
Ohwas right. There was a line of people down the block and back up, all waiting to get through a set of double doors leading into a literal hole in the wall.
Angela frowned and looked back at Noah. Had she factored in lines when scheduling the Death March of Fun?
He shrugged. “Nonna said it was good, right?”
Angela nodded and tucked her phone into her tactical satchel. “She said to try the panzerotti.”
“Dad?” Apparently Jake was talking to him again. “Did you and Ramin have mac and cheese for dinner?”
“No. We both had risotto.”
“Oh.” He sighed, like Noah had just dropped the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I guess that’s okay then.”
“Thanks, buddy. He owns a restaurant back home. Maybe we can visit when we get back.”
“Yeah? Do they make mac and cheese?”
