“You have to sign yourentirename,” he whispered. It sounded like scolding.
“I know,” she whispered back, heat prickling up her neck.
She signed “Loretta Elaine Giordano,” theLand theGin uncharacteristically fat, romantic loops. The name was still unfamiliar to her, yet for the first time ever, it made her feel connected to something—to someone. She looked down again at the document and saw Ivo’s name above hers. Tears welled in her eyes as this aching thing took hold of her heart and would not let go. She slipped her hand back in her pocket and squeezed the ring as hard as she could.
“This ceremony is now concluded,” said Andrea, watching her.
The trickling applause went up from behind her, reminding her that this little group had come to witness, and she walked over to double-kiss and hug everyone. Beatrice offered her a tissue, and Ottavio smoothed her hair. Everyonecongratulated her, their cries of “Auguri!” overlapping in the echoey room.
“We stick these in the tiramisu at the restaurant.” Vivi laughed, holding a tiny paper Italian flag in her hand. She tucked it into the buttonhole at the neckline of Lora’s dress.
“Perfect!” Giada cheered.
“Thank you so much for being here,” Lora said, still sniffling. “I didn’t even think to ask you to come.”
“We wanted to be here. We will go back to the café and have a little prosecco, yes? We have to celebrate your citizenship and also saybuon viaggiotoo.”
“Sorry, but we’ll need this room for a meeting,” said Andrea, gesturing to the door.
As the rest of the group filed out, Lora paused to look up at him.
“Thank you,” she said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Lots on my mind.”
“Can we talk?”
“Everyone is waiting for you. Go have some prosecco, Lora,” he said.
“Will you come?”
“I have work,” he said. “Go celebrate. It’s almost over.”
He was not rude or snarky, not sarcastic or cutting. If he had been, she could try to fight back. No, this was worse—he was being sincere. There was nothing to do but turn around and join the friends who had come to see her.
Lora sat at a table at the café drinking prosecco at a little after ten in the morning like it was the most normal thing in the world. The whole bottle chilled in an ice bucket on an adjacent table, and small plates of focaccia, olives, peanuts,tuna-stuffed peppers, and potato chips were laid out in front of them. Beatrice had guests coming in, so she toasted to Lora and headed up the steps. But Lora could not believe that she had come in the first place.
“Why not?” asked Giada. “She was the first one to meet you! Beatrice is very typical of this area—it takes them a while to warm up to you, but once they do, they are friends for life.”
“Not that it takes long to warm up to you,” said Ottavio.
“I suppose that’s good to know, now that I am leaving.” She laughed and took a sip of wine.
“Are you really going straight to Zurich from here?” asked Vivi.
“Yes. I thought I would have time to make it back to New York before my program started, but now I’m not sure that I should. I’ll go back before my lease is up.”
“It’s too bad that you don’t have more time to see Italy. If all you’ve seen is this town, well—all you’ve seen is this town.” Emanuela cringed dramatically, waving fingers laden with silver rings. “I do love it here, but, darling—Milano! Roma! Napoli! They’re yours now!”
“I know that I am missing a lot of beautiful things, believe me,” Lora said. “I will try to come back and see everything, I promise.” But even to her own ears, it sounded like a promise broken.
Andrea knocked on the door to his house, but did not open the door as he used to. Instead, he waited on the stone stoop for Lora to come and open it for the last time. She was leavingtoday, on a train that was departing in ninety minutes, and needed to hand him the keys. For a moment that morning, he had actually thought about telling her to drop them in the pot of succulents by the door. But that would have only appealed to the part of him that wanted to turn around and throw a match back at the whole summer. So, he had agreed to come by and planned to be brief.
“Hi. Do you have time to come in?” she asked when she pulled open the door. Her almond frangipane cloud tumbled out onto the stoop. “Just for a minute.”
“Sure,” he said, entering the house. Her suitcase stood guard in the entryway, and a blazer hung on the back of a chair in the kitchen. The whole house smelled like cleaning products, and the only visible item was a washed glass turned upside down on the drain board.
“I am repeating myself, but I wanted to say thank you again. For everything,” she said, clasping her hands. She squeezed her fingers together and then reached behind herself to lean on the counter. “I don’t know if there’s something I need to do in order to officially break the lease?”
