And then she saw him, as if conjured from her hopes. Crossing a square that was loud with zooming Vespas and shouting locals, Regan recognized the back of his head. He was haggling with a vendor in fluent Italian, holding up a bottle of balsamic vinegar. Regan approached him, suddenly shy.
He finished his conversation, took the vinegar, and turned. “Regan!” he cried.
“Giovanni,” said Regan. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh my God,” said Giovanni, taking her arm and walking purposefully. “I’m so embarrassed I could die. I took a week off and spent all my savings. I booked a room on your stupid cruise ship. I boarded the dog at Hotel Bark Ave! I thought this was going to be the best week of my life.”
“Wait,” said Regan, “you’re on the ship?”
“Pathetic, right?” said Giovanni, running a hand through his lustrous hair. “But what am I going to do, throw away the ticket? No, ma’am. I danced at that revolting disco all night long. I drowned my sorrows in bottom-shelf tequila. I’m ashamed to tell you that I almost made out with DJ Neon.”
Regan couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not laughing at you,” she said.
“You are, but whatever,” said Giovanni. “Let’s lunch.”
They slipped into a restaurant with high ceilings and pale blue walls. Giovanni spoke to the woman at the hostess stand and she seated them. Every other table was full and the din was incredible. Regan didn’t see another American in the place, which seemed a miracle and made her feel like an insider.
“Mind if I order?” said Giovanni.
“Please,” said Regan. “I love everything.”
“The woman of my dreams,” said Giovanni. He ordered in Italian from a young brunette with her hair in a ponytail, her arms laden with plates.
When he had finished speaking, the woman nodded and said,“Si, prego.”
“I know I should be looking at monumental works of art,” said Giovanni, “but I lived here for my junior year in college, so I’ve seen them. And I’m too hungover.”
The waitress returned with a carafe of wine, two glasses, and a blue-and-white bowl filled with pasta.“Pomodoro e basilico e tagliatelle fiori di zucca e scamorza,”she said.
“Oh my God,” said Regan, tasting the noodles. “This is incredible.”
“Pumpkin flowers,” said Giovanni, pointing with his fork. “And can you taste that milky, caramelly cheese on thetagliatelle? That’sscamorza.”
“Scamorza,”repeated Regan.
“So,” said Giovanni, “where’s your husband?”
“Oh…” said Regan. Giovanni looked sympathetic, waiting for her to continue. “It’s not a pretty subject,” said Regan.
Giovanni nodded, his wineglass aloft. “Go on,” he said.
“Let’s just enjoy lunch,” said Regan.
“Spill it,” said Giovanni. Regan grinned—he was so different from her family. It had been a long time since she had confided in anyone other than Zoë. But once she began talking, it was hard to stop. She told Giovanni everything, from turning down art school until the moment Matt admitted he was in love with someone else and was leaving her.
“I’m so sorry,” said Giovanni. “What a bastard.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” said Regan.
“Please,” said Giovanni.
Regan took a sip of wine, remembering the night she first saw Janet—vibrant, young, red-haired Janet. Regan and Matt had brought the girls for dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, the Bonna Bella Yacht Club. (Regan loved the crab fritters.) They approached by water, pulling their boat to the restaurant’s communal dock. As they climbed the wooden stairs to the Bonna Bella entrance, Regan spied a group of young teachers from Savannah Country Day enjoying happy hour on the outdoor deck. Regan sat down with Flora and Isabella at a nearby table, and Matt went to get drinks at the bar. As the girls drew with crayons, Regan heard Matt’s laughter, a rich, delighted sound she hadn’t heard in a while.
“Daddy’s talking to Miss Janet,” said Flora. “Her red hair is like Ariel’s red hair.”
The waitress came to take their order and Regan stood to get Matt’s attention. Matt was leaning against the bar, his beer in one hand, Regan’s glass of wine in the other. Regan watched her husband’s expression as he spoke animatedly to an adorable young woman wearing a yellow sundress. He looked delighted, happy, even nice.
“Miss Janet teaches kindergarten but her husband died,” said Isabella.
