Love & Gelato(7)

I studied his face, but it was as bland as whipped cream. Apparently being related meant nothing. I had no idea if he’d overheard my conversation with Addie.

I hesitated for a second, then opened the door wider and took the towels from him. “Thank you. And here’s your phone.” I grabbed it from the desk, then handed it to him.

“So . . . what do you think?”

I flushed. “About . . . ?”

“About your room.”

“Oh. It’s great. Really pretty.”

A big, relieved grin spread across his face. It was definitely the first genuine one of the night, and he looked about a hundred pounds lighter. Also, his smile was kind of lopsided.

“Good.” He leaned against the door frame. “I know I don’t have the best taste, but I wanted it to be nice. A friend helped me paint the desk and dresser, and Sonia and I found the mirror at a flea market.”

Ugh. Now I had the image of him traipsing around Italy looking for stuff he thought I’d like. Why the sudden interest? As far as I knew, he’d never even sent me a birthday card.

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” I said.

“It wasn’t any trouble. Really.”

He smiled again, and there was a long uncomfortable pause. The whole night had felt like being on a blind date with someone I had nothing in common with. No, it was worse. Because we did have something in common. We just weren’t talking about it. When are we going to talk about it?

Hopefully never.

Howard bobbed his head. “Well, good night, Lina.”

“Good night.”

His footsteps faded down the hall and I shut and locked the door again. My nineteen hours of travel had worked its way to the center of my forehead, and I had an insane headache. Time for this day to be over.

I put the towels on my dresser, then kicked off my shoes and took a flying leap onto the bed, sending sprays of decorative pillows in every direction. Finally. The bed was as soft as it looked and the sheets smelled awesome, like when my mom had sometimes hung ours on the line to dry. I wriggled under the covers and switched off the lamp.

Loud laughter erupted from downstairs. The music was still at full blast, and either they were doing the dishes or playing a loud round of indoor croquet, but who cared? After the day I’d had, I could fall asleep anywhere.

I had just drifted into that murky half-sleep phase when Howard’s voice brought me back to consciousness.

“She’s really quiet.”

My eyes snapped open.

“I don’t think that’s surprising, considering the scenario,” Sonia answered.

I didn’t move a muscle. Apparently Howard didn’t think sound traveled through open windows.

He lowered his voice. “Of course. It was just kind of a surprise. Hadley was so . . .”

“Lively? She really was. But Lina might surprise you. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she turned out to have some of her mother’s oomph.”

He laughed quietly. “?‘Oomph.’ ?That’s one way to put it.”

“Give her a little time.”

“Of course. Thanks again for dinner—it was delicious.”

“My pleasure. I’m planning on posting up at the visitors’ center tomorrow morning. Will you be in the office?”

“In and out. I’d like to be off early so I can take Lina into town.”

“Sounds good. Night, boss.” Sonia’s footsteps crunched down the gravel driveway and a moment later the front door opened and then closed again.

I forced my eyes shut, but it was like I had soda pop running through my veins. What had Howard expected? That I’d be overjoyed about moving in with someone I’d never met? That I’d be superexcited about living in a cemetery? It’s not like it was a big secret that I hadn’t wanted to come here. I’d agreed only when my grandma had pulled out the big guns: You promised your mom.

And why did he have to call me “quiet”? I hated being called quiet. People always said it like it was some kind of deficiency—like just because I didn’t put everything out there right away, I was unfriendly or arrogant. My mom had understood. You may be slow to warm up, but once you do, you light up the whole room.

Tears flooded my eyes and I rolled over, pressing my face into my pillow. Now that it had been more than six months, I could sometimes go whole hours pretending to be okay without her. But it never lasted long. Turns out reality is as hard and unforgiving as that fire hydrant Addie and I had run into.

And I had to live the whole rest of my life without her. I really did.





Chapter 3




“LOOK, THAT WINDOW’S OPEN. SOMEONE must be here.”

The voice was practically in my ear and I sat bolt upright. Where was I? Oh. Right. In a cemetery. Only now it was saturated with sunlight, and my bedroom was 890 degrees. Give or take a hundred.

“Wouldn’t you think they’d have signs telling you where to go?” It was a woman’s voice, her accent as tangy as barbeque sauce.

A man answered. “Gloria, this looks like a private residence. I don’t think we should be poking around—”

“Yoo-hoo! Hello? Anyone home?”

I pushed off my covers and got out of bed, tripping over a smattering of decorative pillows. I was still fully dressed. I’d been so tired that pajamas hadn’t even crossed my mind.