Page 46 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

“Apparently, more than one. You missed something.”

“Well, I didn’t cover everything in my book.”

“No, that’s not it.” She rubbed her hands together as she again peered at the reflection in the crystal ball. “How was the book received?”

“Not well. Not well at all. A disaster really. A lot of the reviews are terrible, and I, frankly, would be happy to never see a copy of it again.” She added, “That’s not why I’m here. I’m not writing another one. Please don’t even say that out loud or to my ancestors or anyone.” Bianca had an urge to tear a blanket off the couch and throw it over the crystal ball.

The mystic hummed a few out-of-tune notes. “Often, that which we resist is the direction we should go.”

“Yeah, I’ve said the same thing to my clients. That doesn’t always apply. I resist swimming in chummed water with sharks. Don’t need to do that.”

“Chummed?”

“When you throw chopped-up bloody fish in the water to attract sharks.”

“Sounds like dating these days.” She gave a wink.

Bianca wasn’t in the mood to stray from the topic at hand. “How about the idea of me living here, staying here, I mean? Forever. Is this my new home? What happens when my lease runs out? And what am I supposed to do with my life? Keep practicing or start all over? And how about my father?”

Donna Bologna sat back and looked around, lost in the middle space. “I think it might be best for you to quit trying to outsmart life.”

Bianca was about to pull her hair out. The doubter box got another vote. “I need something concrete here. What do you see?”

“I’m telling you what I see.”

“Am I in Italy or back in Austin or somewhere else? What am I doing?”

“That depends on you.”

“That’s a revelation.”

Donna Bologna inclined her shoulders.

Bianca pressed her eyes closed and blew air through her nose. Of course there were no answers to be found here.

“Wasn’t there a man in your life?” Donna Bologna asked.

“You mean way back when?”

The indovina dipped her chin.

“Corrado. Yeah, we lost touch.” Bianca wasn’t sure whether she wanted to mention the recent run-in. If the lady was a fortune teller, she should already know!

“And since. How has your love life been?”

As she thought back through the years, Bianca gathered her long hair, then let it fall. “I guess the guys I’ve dated haven’t been much more than accessories. Yes, my clock’s ticking, and I do want to be a mom, but I haven’t accomplished what I need to yet. I’ve had a few boyfriends, some serious enough to last awhile, a few months. But honestly, they were in the way more than anything else.” She sighed. “I’m just not girlfriend material. Not now, at least.”

Bianca looked up as Donna Bologna focused on the ball again. She chuckled to herself.

“What is it? What do you see?”

She licked her lips. “If you let dough rise too long, it collapses.”

“Now we’re using baking analogies? Is food all this country knows?”

The woman clearly enjoyed the comment.

“Seriously, what does that mean?”