Love & Gelato(81)

Howard walked in with two bowls. “I got you two kinds, fragola e coco. Strawberry and coconut. I’m sorry we don’t have stracciatella. I can tell it’s a stracciatella night. ”

“It’s okay.” I took the bowl from him, balancing it on my knee.

“Rough night?”

“I don’t think things are going to work out with Ren.” My eyes teared up. “Not even friend-wise.”

“Your talk didn’t go well?”

“No. We actually got into this awesome screaming match and I called him a bad word in Italian. Or at least I think it was a bad word.”

“What was it?”

“Stronzo.”

He sat down on the chair across from me, nodding gravely. “We can recover from stronzo. And remember, it isn’t over until it’s over. For years I thought things were completely finished with your mother, but we actually started talking again before her diagnosis.”

“You did?”

“Yes. She sent me an e-mail and we corresponded for almost a year. It was like we picked up right where we left off. We didn’t talk about any of the heavy stuff, just kind of fun banter back and forth.”

“Did you ever see each other?”

“No. She probably knew that if I ever saw her again I’d carry her off. No questions asked.”

“Like the Sabines.” I tried to take a bite of gelato, but it just sort of slid off my tongue, and I let my spoon clatter back into the bowl. “You two basically have the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

“I wouldn’t say that. There was a lot of good.”

I sighed. “So how do I get over Ren?”

“I’m the worst person to ask. I fell in love and stayed that way. But if you ask me, it’s worth it. ‘A life without love is like a year without summer.’?”

“Deep. But I’m about ready for summer to be over.”

He smiled. “Give it some time. It will be all right.”



Howard and I stayed up really late. When I checked my phone I had a three-word text from Addie (THEY SAID YES!!) and Howard and I spent more than an hour discussing the pros and cons of staying or leaving Florence. He even pulled out a lined notebook and made two columns with REASONS TO STAY and REASONS TO GO at the top. I didn’t add Ren to the list because I couldn’t decide which side he belonged on. Brokenhearted and see him every day? Or brokenhearted and never see him again? Either one sounded incredibly miserable.

Finally, I went up to bed where I spent the night tossing and turning. Turns out there’s a reason they call it falling in love, because when it happens—really happens—that’s exactly how it feels. There’s no doing or trying, you just let go and hope that someone’s going to be there to catch you. Otherwise, you’re going to end up with some pretty hefty bruises. Trust me, I would know.

I must have dozed off eventually, because around four a.m. I woke in a five-alarm panic. Had something just hit me? I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing. My window was as wide-open as ever, and a dusting of stars glittered at me from the cemetery’s treetops. Everything was as calm and still as a lake. Not a single ripple.

“Just dreaming,” I said, my voice sounding supercalm and in charge. It was literally the only part of me not freaking out over the fact that I may or may not have just been woken up by something cold and hard hitting me in the leg.

Not that that made any sense.

I shook my head, pulling back the covers to get back in bed like a rational person, and then I yelped and jumped like half a foot, because there were coins everywhere. Like, everywhere.

They were scattered across my bed and rug and a few of them had even made it onto The Dress, which was still lying in the world’s saddest heap on the floor. I fumbled for my lamp, then bent down to take a look, being careful not to touch any of them. They were mostly copper-colored one-or two-cent coins, but some of them were twenty or fifty cents. There was even a two-euro coin.

My bedroom was raining money.

“What is going on?” I said aloud.

Just then another coin arced through my open window, hitting me square in the face and causing me to do this dramatic tuck-and-cover move that I’d learned in elementary school earthquake drills. But by the time I hit the floor I wasn’t freaked out anymore. I knew what was going on.

Someone was throwing money at me through my window. Which meant that either a government official was here to let me know that I’d won the Italian Powerball or Ren was trying to wake me up. Either way, my night had just gotten a whole lot better.

I jumped up and ran over to the window.

Ren was standing about six feet from the house, his arm cocked back to hurl another coin.

“Look out!” I dropped to the floor again.

“Sorry.”

I slowly raised myself back up. Ren’s jacket and tie were sprawled out on the grass, and he was holding a white paper bag in his nonthrowing hand. I was so happy to see him it made me want to punch his lights out.

I know. Mixed signals.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

We just stared at each other. Part of me wanted to chuck The Dress at him and the other part wanted me to let down my Medusa hair so he could use it climb up to my room. I guess it all depended on why he was here.

Ren seemed like he was having an internal debate as well. He shuffled around for a second. “Would you mind coming down here?”