Love & Gelato(34)

“The LensCulture jump-started her career. That’s when she started doing photography full-time.”

“I liked the picture. I’ve never seen anything like it. What was it called? Erased?” He sprinted ahead of me, then wrapped his arms around himself, looking over one shoulder. The photograph had been of a woman who’d just had a tattooed name removed from her shoulder.

I laughed. “Not bad.”

He fell back in line with me. “I also saw the self-portraits she did while she was sick. They were pretty intense. And I saw you in some of them.”

I kept my eyes laser focused on the road. “I don’t really like looking at those.”

“Understandable.”

The road dipped and I automatically sped up. Ren did too.

“So . . . you hanging out with your friends again soon?” I asked.

“You mean Thomas?”

I flushed. “And . . . others.” Priority number one was figuring out what had gone on between Howard and my mother, but that didn’t mean I had to let my chance with Thomas go to waste, right?

“It’s Marco, right? You really want to see him again, don’t you?”

I laughed again. “Maybe.”

“Didn’t Thomas get your number?”

“I don’t even have a number. You keep calling me at the cemetery, remember?” Also, he hadn’t asked for it. Probably because he’d remembered his expensive watch after following me into the pool.

“I also called you on your dad’s cell phone. Even though it was terrifying.”

“How’d you even get that number?”

“Sonia. But it took me like an hour to get up the courage to use it.”

I sighed. “Ren, you’ve got to get over that first bad conversation with Howard. I mean, he’s a pretty nice guy. It’s not like he’s going to hurt you for being nice to me.”

“Have you ever been yelled at by an ogre for something you didn’t do? It’s not that easy to get over.”

“Ogre?” I laughed.

“People just aren’t that tall here. I bet he gets stared at everywhere he goes.”

“Probably.”

The world’s tiniest truck sped past us, sending out a series of staccato beeps. Ren waved. “Hey, do you want to go into town with me tonight? We could get some ice cream or just walk around or something. Maybe like eight thirty?”

“Think Swedish Model would be okay with that?”

I meant it as a joke, but he looked at me seriously. “I think it will be all right.”



When Ren arrived to pick me up, Howard and I were finishing dinner. He’d made a big bowl of pasta with fresh tomatoes and mozzarella, and I’d spent the whole meal staring at him like a complete weirdo. X is handsome, intelligent, and charming. Except for when you get pregnant with his baby? Then he’s suddenly so terrible that you flee halfway across the world and avoid him for the next sixteen years? I’d picked up the journal three different times that afternoon, and each time I’d had to set it back down. It was just so overwhelming.

“Is everything all right?” Howard asked.

“Yes. I was just . . . thinking.” Ever since we’d had that talk about not talking about my mom, things had been feeling a little better. He was actually pretty easy to be around. Sort of laid-back-beach-guy-meets-history-buff.

I stabbed another forkful of pasta. “This is really good.”

“Well, that’s in spite of the chef. It’s pretty hard to mess up when you have such great ingredients. So what do you think about tomorrow? I can take the whole day off so we’ll have plenty of time for sightseeing.”

“Okay.”

“Where are you and Ren headed tonight?”

“He just said he wants to go into town.”

“Lina?” Ren poked his head into the kitchen.

“Speak of the devil,” I said.

“Sorry I’m late.” He caught sight of Howard and startled. “And I probably should have knocked. Sir.”

Howard smiled. “Hey, Ren. Would you like some dinner? I made pasta con pomodori e mozzarella.”

“Buonissimo. But no thanks. I already ate. My mom tried to re-create a Kentucky Fried Chicken meal and she made this giant pot of potatoes that basically turned to glue. I’m still trying to get over it.”

“Ewww.”

Howard laughed. “Been there. Sometimes you just have to have KFC.” He picked up his plate and walked into the kitchen.

Ren sat down next to me and grabbed a noodle from my plate. “So, where should we go tonight?”

“How should I know? You’re the one from Florence.”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling you haven’t spent much time in the city. Anything you’ve been dying to see?”

“Isn’t there like a leaning tower or something?”

“Linaaa. That’s in Pisa.”

“Relax, I’m joking. But actually, there is something I want to see. Come upstairs with me for a second.” I took my plate to the kitchen, then Ren followed me to my bedroom.

“Is this really your room?” he asked when we stepped inside.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Haven’t you unpacked anything? It’s kind of bare in here.” He opened one of my empty dresser drawers, then slowly rolled it shut.