My cigarette had burned to nothing, and I stubbed it out in the ashtray.
“Here,” he said, and handed me a cigarette that he’d rolled himself. It was beautiful—not too loose, not too tight, and it smelled earthy, like the woods near my parents’ house after a big rain.
I took it and was about to tell him I didn’t have a light when he struck a match on the side of the table and leaned toward me, sheltering the small flame with his hands. I brought the cigarette to my lips and my face close to his hands, and we were both so quiet that when the paper touched the light, we could hear it sizzle.
62.
PAUL FOUND MEa few minutes later.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said as he clapped his hands on my shoulders.
I put the cigarette out quickly, then tilted my face up to Paul’s. “This is Teo.”
Teo seemed disappointed to be meeting Paul, and I wondered if he hadn’t guessed I was married. It seemed impossible. There was the ring on my finger, for starters. But also, every American woman on the island—with the exception of a handful of teachers and a couple of nurses—was attached to someone. That was why we were in La Maddalena in the first place.
Paul extended his hand. “Paul Archer.”
“Teo Manca,” said Teo, and I made note of the last name. It was a nice name, I thought.
“Teo’s a journalist,” I told Paul.
I figured he might ask what Teo wrote, but he didn’t. He just said, “Oh yeah?”
To Teo, I said, “Paul works in Radiological Controls. On theGilmore.”
“Oh, so you must be replacing Tom Mueller?”
I think it surprised Paul that Teo knew that. “I am. Do you know him?”
“I cover the U.S. Navy,” Teo said, nodding in the direction of Santo Stefano. “And NATO.”
“What did you say your name was again?” Paul asked.
“Teo Manca,” he said, and retrieved a card from his wallet, which he handed to Paul. “I’m withLa Spedizione.”
“So you’re a leftie?” Paul said this like he was kidding, but I knew he wasn’t. Not really.
“The paper’s independent,” said Teo.
Paul chuckled. “How’d you say you know each other again?” he asked me.
“We didn’t,” I said, which was the three gin and tonics talking.
Paul pressed a thumb into my shoulder blade, a signal that I needed to watch it, but I was drunk and didn’t care much for secret signals. “Ouch,” I said, and squirmed out of his reach.
Teo explained that he was Francesca’s nephew.
“Francesca…” Paul said, clearly trying to place the name.
“My Italian teacher, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
I was annoyed, but Paul wasn’t paying attention because his boss, Joe Stearns, who had also come to the party, was seated at a nearby table. “Let’s go say hi,” he whispered.
I didn’t want to, but Joe and Paul had already made eye contact, and it was clear that’s where we were headed.
“It was nice seeing you again,” I said to Teo as I stood to go, and I hoped he knew I meant it. I turned to his friends, who were deep in their own conversation. “Buonanotte.”
