Love & Gelato(3)

Howard absorbed my silence for a moment, then opened his car door. “Let’s head inside. I’ll get your suitcase.”

All six foot five of him walked around to the back of the car, and I leaned over to watch him in the side mirror. My grandma had been the one to fill in the blanks. He’s your father; that’s why she wanted you to live with him. I probably should have seen it coming. It’s just that good old buddy Howard’s true identity seemed like the sort of thing my mother would have at least mentioned.

Howard closed the trunk, and I straightened up and started rifling through my backpack, buying myself another few seconds. Lina, think. You’re alone in a foreign country, a certifiable giant has just stepped forward as your father, and your new home could be the setting for a zombie apocalypse movie. Do something.

But what? Short of wrestling the car keys from Howard, I couldn’t think of a single way to get out of going into that house. Finally I unbuckled my seat belt and followed him to the front door.



Inside, the house was aggressively normal—like maybe it thought it could make up for its location if it just tried hard enough. Howard set my suitcase down in the front entryway, and then we walked into a living room with two overstuffed chairs and a leather sofa. There were a bunch of vintage travel posters on the walls, and the whole place smelled like it had been soaking in garlic and onions. But in a good way. Obviously.

“Welcome home,” Howard said, switching on the main light. Fresh panic smacked me in the face, and he winced when he saw my expression. “I mean, welcome to Italy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Howard?”

“Hi, Sonia.”

A tall, gazelle-like woman stepped into the room. She was maybe a few years older than Howard, with coffee-colored skin and rows of gold bracelets on each arm. Gorgeous. And also a surprise.

“Lina,” she said, enunciating my name carefully. “You made it. How were your flights?”

I shifted from one foot to the other. Was someone going to introduce us? “They were okay. The last one was really long.”

“We’re so glad you’re here.” She beamed at me, and there was a thick moment of silence.

Finally I stepped forward. “So . . . you’re Howard’s wife?”

Howard and Sonia looked at each other and then practically started howling with laughter.

Lina Emerson. Comic genius.

Finally Howard got himself under control. “Lina, this is Sonia. She’s the assistant superintendent of the cemetery. She’s been working here even longer than I have.”

“Just by a few months,” Sonia said, wiping her eyes. “Howard always makes me sound like a dinosaur. My house is on the property too, a little closer to the memorial.”

“How many people live here?”

“Just us two. Now three,” Howard said.

“And about four thousand soldiers,” Sonia added, grinning. She squinted at Howard, and I glanced back just in time to see him frantically running one finger across his throat. Nonverbal communication. Great.

Sonia’s smile vanished. “Lina, are you hungry? I made a lasagna.”

That’s what that smell was. “I’m pretty hungry,” I admitted. Understatement.

“Good. I made my specialty. Lasagna with extra-garlicky garlic bread.”

“Yes!” Howard said, pumping his arm like a housewife on The Price Is Right. “You decided to spoil us.”

“It’s a special night, so I thought I’d go all out. Lina, you probably want to wash your hands. I’ll dish up and you can meet us in the dining room.”

Howard pointed across the living room. “Bathroom’s over there.”

I nodded, then set my backpack on the nearest chair before practically fleeing the room. The bathroom was miniature, barely big enough for a toilet and a sink, and I ran the water as hot as I could stand it, scrubbing the airport off my hands with a chip of soap from the edge of the sink.

While I scrubbed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and groaned. I looked like I’d been dragged through three different time zones. Which, to be fair, I had. My normally tan skin was pale and yellowish-looking, and I had dark circles under my eyes. And my hair. It had finally figured out a way to defy the laws of physics. I wet both my hands and tried to smash down my curls, but it seemed to only encourage them. Finally I gave up. So what if I looked like a hedgehog who’d discovered Red Bull? Fathers are supposed to accept you as you are, right?

Music started up outside the bathroom and my nervousness kindled from a flame to a bonfire. Did I really need to eat dinner? Maybe I could go hide out in a room somewhere while I processed this whole cemetery thing. Or didn’t process it. But then my stomach roared in protest and ugh. I did have to eat.

“There she is,” Howard said, getting to his feet as I walked into the dining room. The table was set with a red-checkered cloth, and an old rock song I sort of recognized was playing from an iPod next to the entryway. I slid into the chair opposite them, and Howard sat down too.

“I hope you’re hungry. Sonia’s such a great cook, I think she missed her calling in life.” Now that it wasn’t just the two of us, he sounded way more relaxed.

Sonia beamed. “No way. I was destined for life at the memorial.”

“It does look good.” And by “good,” I meant amazing. A steaming pan of lasagna sat next to a basket of thickly sliced garlic bread, and there was a salad bowl piled high with tomatoes and crisp-looking lettuce. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to dive right onto the table.