“Why?” I asked.
“The guy who’s replacing me just tore his rotator cuff. He had surgery, but he’s got at least six weeks of rehab.”
“What about Advanced Course?”
“They’re saying I can start late. That as long as I don’t miss the navigator course, I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t know what to make of this news. On one hand, I wanted as much time with Teo as I could get, so two extra months in La Maddalena sounded like heaven. But lying to Paul for the last five minutes had been painful, and I couldn’t imagine doing it for the entire summer.
“Laura will be excited,” I said, which was true.
“Do you smell that?” said Paul, taking a deep breath.
“Smell what?”
“It’s like peaches or apricots or something.”
It was my hair. I was certain of it. “I don’t smell anything,” I said, and from that point forward, the lies started to pile up around me.
138.
AS SOON AS I DROPPEDPaul at the pier the next morning, I went straight back to Teo’s apartment. I knew he had a meeting in Sassari at noon, so I was just hoping he hadn’t left yet.
He buzzed me up, and when he met me at the door, I saw that he was already dressed and about to leave for the ferry. “It looks like I’ve missed my window,” I said, but he just laughed and started to undress me.
“I’ll call and push the meeting back,” he said as we fell into bed.
Eventually, Teo really did have to leave, and we made plans to meet again three nights later, when Paul had duty. If this sounds calculating, I apologize, because it totally was. I spent the next three days counting down the seconds until I could see him again and simultaneously trying to talk myself into canceling the whole thing.
In the end, I did not cancel, because being able to spend the entire night with Teo was a luxury I could scarcely comprehend. We had sex, lots of it, but the best part was that there was time for all the other stuff, too. Talking and laughing and cooking and eating, all of which made what we were doing feel slightly more normal.
Teo started keeping more groceries at the apartment. Pasta and tomatoes and garlic and onions. Cheese and eggs and milk. Things we could use to make simple meals together any time we came up for air. We liked to eat out on the balcony, where we spoke in hushed whispers in case Francesca and Bernardo were on theirs two floors below.
Once, late at night, we heard them talking about us. Francesca was saying something about how painfully obvious it was that we were in love, and then she asked Bernardo when he thought we were going to come to our senses. We had to press our lips together to keep from laughing, and soon after that, Teo led me inside and made love to me on the sofa, the doors open, the night air alive with the sound of cicadas.
“She’s right, you know?” he whispered in English as we lay thereafterward, spent. “I feel like I’m not supposed to say it, like it’s not allowed. Not while you’re with Paul. But I can’t help it.”
I raised myself up on one elbow, kissed him lightly on the lips, then said, “Anch’io ti amo.”
He gave me this sheepish smile. “That is very good to hear.”
139.
ALL THE WIVES THREW LAURAa baby shower in early June. It was maybe a little earlier than she’d have liked, but Rita and Beverly were desperate to participate before they packed out.
Annie Campbell offered to host the party at Il Paradiso, which was perfect because the apartment complex had a pool with a nice big deck and plenty of seating. Debbie and Bev tackled the decorations. There were pink and blue balloons everywhere, and since it was impossible to mail-order one of those cutout storks, they’d made their own out of moving boxes, packing tape, and acrylic paint. “Impressive,” said Mary Lou, and I could tell she meant it.
Rita and I organized the food, which wasn’t that hard, since it was potluck. We bought paper products, scrounged up some tablecloths, and ordered a cake from a bakery downtown.
“Why does the cake sayCiao Bella?” Debbie asked after we’d unveiled it.
“It’s likeHello Beautiful,” said Rita. “But in Italian.”
“I don’t get it,” Debbie said.
“It’s like we’re talking to the baby,” I tried to explain.
“But what if it’s a boy?” said Debbie. “Wouldn’t it beCiao Bello?”
