Page 51 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

Another headshake.

“Know how to cook? To dance, to sing? Know how to make love?”

If he shook his head any more, it would break off. His blushing was enough to light up the now dark bookstore.

She lifted her hands. “There you go. The recipe to upping your game.”

He slumped. “That’s a lot of work.”

“I wish I could say it’ll be worth it, but I have two divorces and a few other failed relationships in my graveyard.” Cynical much, Sandy? she thought after hearing what she’d said. What else should she be, though? Turning into the wicked witch is the only thing that had saved her.

Still, Harold was young, sensitive. Hopeful. Maybe he had a chance. One in a hundred relationships stand the test of time. Either way, it wasn’t her place to crush him by telling him the likely truth: Even if he got Alice back, something would go wrong down the line.

“Tell you what,” she said. “Do what I mentioned, then come see me every once in a while. I’ll help. But first, throw everything you’re wearing away. Got it?”

A sad nod.

“Don’t worry,” Sandy said. “You’re not a lost cause. I’ve met worse. You just need direction.”

A hopeful pixel in his eye twinkled. “You’ll help?”

“I don’t know that I have a choice. For some reason, I take in strays.”

Chapter 13

Killing Peggy Meh

“I know you hate lists,” George said to Bianca as he faced his legal pad, pen at the ready, the greatest list maker to ever grace the land, “but it pays to be organized.” He’d been there a week and had finally caught up with the jet lag.

Bianca was lost in her own world, tapping away at her computer in the other comfy chair in the living room. “One second. I’m finishing up a newsletter.”

“That’s your first since moving, huh? I bet you have a lot to say.”

A nod.

Though he hadn’t read her book, he’d never missed a newsletter and had always made it a point to respond to them.

“By the way,” she said without looking up, “I can’t believe you brought more than one legal pad to Italy.”

“And I can’t believe you brought more than one pair of shoes.” Her mother had always given him a hard time about his legal pads and to-do lists too. In turn, he’d attacked her shoes or aprons or whatever else.

Bianca granted him a smile but kept tapping. Faith had ignored him a lot too. Especially when he was trying to get things done. They could never understand that his days began when he completed his list. All the other moments leading up to it were a mad scramble of anxiety, feeling like the world was on fire. That’s what happened when you spent your first eighteen years living in a world that was literally on fire.

He sipped his coffee, the fourth Nespresso capsule of the morning, then revisited his list, which was exceptionally organized, by the way. Whether he supported her move, he wanted to help, and that meant doing the chores that no one else wanted to do. If only the recent daytime activities—the museums and cooking classes and all the walking—hadn’t delayed him. Today was the day, though, when he could finally reclaim his sanity.

Labels for Tupperware

Clean up courtyard

Paint closet

Contact landlord: additional lock on door, fix drip in sink

Vacuum under and behind furniture

Windex windows and art

Reach out re. consulting work