“Do you not believe in admitting a mistake?”
“Of course I do. But, I don’t think that I made a mistake in this case. I didn’t have any nefarious intent. I was careless.”
“Sometimes the things we do when we’re being careless are just as bad as if we’d planned something terrible. Then we have a hard time convincing people that we didn’t mean it,” she said, looking down at her bottle of water as she picked at the plastic cap. Her eyes flicked up to his. “So, we’re stuck defending a mistake and our own negligence at the same time. It’s a lousy spot to be in,” she said without a hint of comfort in her voice. He deserved that comment, in all the ways it applied. She wasn’t angry at him for what happened between them anymore. It was worse. She pitied him.
“Yeah. I noticed,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m my own worst enemy, but I never wanted to be anyone else’s.” Guilt hung over him like he’d worn a wool blanket to the beach. It was harder to explain away his mistake as a one-off when he was sitting across from livingproof that he’d been careless before. Her silence told him that it was not the time to get personal about their past, but being this close to her was increasing the pressure in his head. He plopped his paper napkin over the plate. This dish was a definite DNR. “I guess I have to do something drastic if I don’t want this kind of heat on me.”
It was clear that he was going to have a hard time convincing people. Even Ellie looked like she would rather be having a conversation with a sand crab. She was probably sick and tired of hearing people like him saying this exact kind of bullshit. Then again, shewasused to this. This was her job. Ellie was the host of one of the most popular shows on the internet, where she regularly listened to sad sacks like him prostrate themselves before an audience of millions. He’d be willing to be that sad sack if it meant he could put his head on his pillow every night and sleep. His agent could probably get him an appearance on any talk show if he wanted to tell the story, and he’d only have to invest as much of himself as could fit in a ten-minute interview clip. And that would probably work for the general public, but it wouldn’t allow him to actively convince the one person he wanted to forgive him. A small voice in his head tried to raise a warning about mixing up his need to repair damage to his career with the need to repair things with Ellie, but it was lost in a convincing chorus ofShut up, we might be killing two birds with one stone here.He decided to go for it.
“Do you think…” He trailed off. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to his. “I mean, I’m just wondering. Do you think this kind of thing would fall under your jurisdiction?”
“What do you mean, exactly?” She squinted.
Maybe he’d miscalculated, lost his sense of direction in the wake of her laughter. He had to be more clear. “This is probably a massiveoverstep considering the fact that we haven’t talked in—well, we haven’t talked. I’m asking if you would consider having me as a guest onGames Over.”
“My show?”
“Your show, yes,” he said. She blinked, and was completely silent for a full three seconds. He was pretty sure she was going to knock him over the head with her empty water bottle and storm off.
“I have to think about it,” she said, her face impossible to read. But even if he had no idea what was in her head, she hadn’t said no.
CHAPTER 8
“L’acqua è bella oggi.”
“Si. È più bella adesso che stamattina.”
“C’era troppa alga.”
“Si. Troppa.”
“Dovrebbe essere bella domani.”
“Beh, speriamo.”
Graziella, Lucrezia, and Maria Elena stood in the clear water that came up to their knees on the shoreline of the Delfino having a meaningful conversation about how beautiful the water was today, how much better it was than that morning, the perils of too much seaweed in the water, and the fact that the water should also be beautiful tomorrow. Ellie stood behind them on the shoreline, not wanting to interrupt their chattering with their hands on their hips. She had dropped her tote under the blue-and-green Beltrami family umbrella, which was positioned between the blue-and-green Sanguinetti family umbrella and the blue-and-green Conte family umbrella, as it had been for years.
Graziella and her husband, Tomás, had sat next to Simone and his wife, Antonella, for almost three decades of summers before Graziella and Simone found themselves both with empty chairs beside them. They’d only become partners to play cards with the rest of the crew out of convenience, but when Simone saw how easily Graziella bluffed her way through the game, he was downright smitten. He had no idea what a sly one she was. She hadn’t realized how sweet his eyes were behind his gold-framed glasses. It may have been surprising for both to see each other as something more than friends, especially when neither of them ever thought that love would come to them a second time. In the end, no one was really surprised that they became a couple. They had so much in common.
“See? That used to be you,” said Graziella, stepping out of the water to get closer to Ellie. She gestured over at a group of kids diving off the rock formation that served as a breakwater to protect the beach from erosion.
“I think I would drown doing that now.” Ellie squinted out toward the rocks.
“I don’t think so. What happened to my girl? You used to be the one spitting fire out there.”
“I don’t know, Grandma. People change, I guess.” Ellie turned to look behind her, hearing the sound of flip-flops whacking down the wooden steps to the beach. What moose was making that much noise? Catching a glimpse of a familiar scruffy head, she turned back toward the water and sighed.
“They don’t change that much,” said Graziella. “You’re so hard on yourself,tesoro.You have always been a success, yet you live like it’s all going to slip away at any second.”
“I was only a success because I pushed myself to keep going nomatter what, Gram. There are just too many variables in life,” she said, glancing over at her parents. “Everything runs into chaos if we don’t get control of the most important things.”
“Ah, but the most important things are the ones we can’t control at all.”
“Ha. I think that’s the bright-eyed bride talking,” Ellie said, trying to ignore the sound of flip-flops moving closer.
“No, that’s the dull-eyed old lady.” Graziella winked.
“Who’s an old lady? I don’t see any of those around here!” Cris beamed, stepping in front of them and blocking the sun. Ellie scrunched her nose, stepped aside.
