“Maybe we’ll be so busy that neither one of us will need more. Maybe it will be enough to see each other when we can.”
“Until when? What’s the endgame? Because it seems to me that people can’t go on forever on ‘when we can.’ Andrea, you deserve more. I do too. If either one of us could be satisfied with only a little piece of something, neither one of us would be where we are right now. I’d probably be fine as a teaching assistant, and you might still be trying to avoid passing out on the F train. That’s not us.”
“You’re so sure that we’re doomed. I’m not that sure. I didn’t expect any of this, and yet here we are.”
But she was sure. And she hated that she was, but he needed to know. She swallowed, looked up at him.
“I want to tell you that we can defy expectations, but I also need you to understand that my life is what it is because a long-distance relationship wasn’t going to work. It’s hard for me to ignore the consequences. For everyone.”
His eyes widened and he took a step back. She could see that he finally understood, and it felt like a door slamming, even to her.
“Tell me that you are not upset,” she said, watching as he let go of her hands. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head very slowly. He turned his wrist up to check the time on his watch. “I have to go give a speech.”
“Andrea, I’m so sorry. You’ve been so kind to me. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, stepping close to her again. “I am going to say this once, and then I am not going to talkabout it ever again. Everything I did was because I wanted to, because it was the decent thing to do. You needed help and I gave you that help. You asked me and I was there. It was not because I wanted something from you. It’s because I wanted thingsforyou. I am sorry that it is so hard for you to understand that you don’t have to protect yourself from literally everyone, but…” He trailed off, turning and stepping away from her.
“Andrea—” she started, but couldn’t find words. Hot tears threatened the corners of her eyes.
“I have a speech,” he said, waving toward the stage. “I really have to go. Everyone is waiting for their mayor.”
Chapter 23
Andrea wove through the crowd, hearing the band wind down and announce that there would be some remarks. First there was Germana Murri, the chair of the consortium of local vineyards, who already stood in front of the microphone. He could hear her welcome everyone as he finally made it to the side of the stage to wait his turn. Pulling out his phone, he opened his notes app and listened to the crowd applaud. Germana was recognizing all of the different vineyards represented and noting which were award winners or had an interesting new wine this year. He felt a tap on his shoulder, which made him almost jump out of his skin. When he turned, Luca handed him a slip of paper. Would he mind reading out some announcements before his speech? No, no problem, he told Luca. He turned back to his notes, but it seemed like the font was so much smaller than it was this afternoon. He squinted, but that didn’t seem to help. Were his glasses dirty? He pulled them off and held them to the light. No, not dirty. He put the glasses back on and stared downat his phone. A text notification appeared. It was Jason, and there was a photo attached. Should he open it? Right here on the stage? He looked up, but Germana was recognizing the vineyard with the cow on its label that was the first in the area to get certified as vegan. He swiped his thumb up to open the message and found a photo of a rooftop terrace somewhere in Manhattan that said “Perk #2: Home Sweet Home.” He heard applause again and looked up to see Germana waving her arm at him. He hustled out onto the stage.
“Thank you so much, Germana,” he said as she handed him the microphone. Most of the crowd had filled in the area in front of the stage and stared up at him. His mouth suddenly felt so dry. Had he drunk any water recently? He smiled as everyone applauded and scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on Lora. She stood next to one of the booths in the open space near Giada’s. It was impossible not to see her somber face. He suddenly wanted to show her that photo, ask her what she thought of the apartment. But they wouldn’t have that kind of relationship now—the kind where you get news and want to call the person immediately, the kind where you can wonder about some impossible idea out loud and know that they will wonder with you.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your incredible hard work and generosity of spirit. I believe that thissagrahas been one of the best in recent history.” He paused for applause again and pulled out the note that Luca handed him. “A few notes before I get to some personal remarks: First, if you are the owner of the Citroën C3 with the license plate AJ 4387 EF, please move your vehicle. It is blocking the access to the dance floor. Second, therest of the focaccia will be sold at half price until the end of the evening—no, sorry, only the onion flavor.” Applause shot up, and he tucked the paper into his pocket and went on.
“It has been my great pleasure to serve you these last four years, and I am quite proud of the many goals that we have accomplished together. We started from a very difficult place, as most of you know, and I feel that where we have come in such a short time is really remarkable. We have a long way to go, of course, and I am already setting plans in motion to be able to complete certain projects like the reconstruction of the Catalano Bridge, and other measures designed to bolster our efforts to expand economic interests and tourism.”
He could not help his eyes from finding Lora again. Giada appeared at her side, rubbing her arm in comfort, and Lora said something to her. In six years, he would be forty-three, but Lora would only be thirty-nine. His dad would be approaching ninety. He didn’t feel well enough to come tonight. Would his parents see the end of his second term?
“Some of you may be surprised to hear that the idea of becoming mayor was very unexpected for me. It was not part of my plan. I did not think that I would feel the way I do about Baia Santa. Obviously I grew up here, but it has come to mean something different to me. Now it lives in my heart in a different way. And it has been challenging, that’s no doubt. But I think that it has all been worth it. And no matter what happens in the future…” He trailed off, a weight in his throat. He felt a squeeze in his chest and tried to look down at the phone, but it had gone blurry, the black letters shimmying across the white screen like insects. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, and found Lora. How odd that sheseemed to be worried about something. He could tell from here—that’s how well he already knew her.
“Which is why I’d like to announce—” he said, but his breath cut off. In a nanosecond, his mind spun him through weeks of stress, renovations, advertisements, parents, worry, budgets, bridges, Lora, Loretta, the summer, and it was all temporary—so, so temporary. His stomach dropped and his arms cramped. Suddenly he was sweating and freezing and feeling like he needed the bathroom again and maybe his legs would give out beneath him in front of hundreds of people. But just before everything seemed like it would fade to black, he bowed slightly, handed the microphone to Germana, and strode off the stage.
Lora had known something was wrong from the second he stepped on the stage. There was something odd in the way he stood, like his limbs had been collected and arranged to look like Andrea, but it wasn’t him. He seemed out of breath, and though she could not understand all of the words he was saying, she could tell the cadence was off. Something in her clicked onto high alert, like when her mom was so very sick and some days Lora would come home from class to find the house too quiet. She’d learned to keep her phone in her pocket and gas in the car back then in case she would have to rush Pamela off to the hospital. Giada had picked up on it too. She grabbed Lora’s arm and squeezed when she saw him struggle to get his words out. When he ran off the stage, she wasn’t even surprised. She just glanced at Giada and disappeared into the crowd after him.
Not wanting to raise more alarms, she walked, didn’t run. But she couldn’t see what direction he’d gone. Given that his apartment bordered the piazza, she was reasonably sure that he would not have gone there. It was the same logic that told her he would not be at city hall. If he was sick, he would not make it far. Did he have an extra key to her house? Would he go there? And then she knew. She turned back to the crowd, double-checking that no one was watching her, and jogged down one street. She took a right and descended a short stairway into a dark garden with a wooden bench.
Andrea sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His chest expanded and contracted as he seemed to struggle to get air. She froze, suddenly afraid that she would spook him like some wild injured thing. But she had to believe that she could help. She had to try. She took a step down into the garden, her shoe scraping on the stone. His head whipped up with a start, and Lora raised her hands in a gesture of peace, even though she knew the war was inside him.
“I just want to know if you’re OK. Can you breathe?” she asked.
He nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. She edged a little bit closer.
“It’s really beautiful here,” she continued. “I’m so bad at knowing plant names, though. What is that one by your foot?”
“It’s lavender,” he said, glancing down. He drew his head back and put his hands on his hips, still breathing hard.
“And that one on the wall? It looks purple in this light.”
“It is. That’s bougainvillea.”
“This one is a succulent, right?” She held her hand over a pot of smooth, fat green leaves clustered in the shape of a rose.
