“Okay. Good.” She nods and sips her wine and doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go. I wish I could, but it sits in the back of my head for the rest of the evening. When we leave, it’s gorgeous out, and Reggie and I go for a stroll up and down the street before heading back to the hotel. As usual, shops are open and people are happily milling around, drinking Apérol spritzes and eating pasta well into the night, and it feels a bit like Manhattan, which I love so much. As we walk, I think back on my very first visit to New York City. I was in my twenties, and my girlfriend at the time was a bit older than me, settled into a well-paying job, and took me to the city for a long weekend getaway. Neither of us had been before, but she got us a nice hotel room in the Theater District so we could catch a Broadway show. We got back to our hotel after ten that night and were starving, so asked the concierge where we could get some food. He gave us directions to a restaurant, the name of which I can no longer remember, and off we went. It was late, and we were not terribly optimistic when we arrived at the small Italian restaurant, but the place was utterly packed. Every table full. People laughing and joking and eating plates of spaghetti and drinking wine, and it was almost eleven at night. We sat at the bar and drank wine and ate pasta, and I’ll never forget it. It made me fall in love with Manhattan, and maybe that’s why I love Rome so much now—because it feels so much like Manhattan to me, though with aslower pace.
As Reggie and I make our way back into the hotel, my phone buzzes with a text notification. I pull it out and grin: Marina.
Ciao, bella! Still awake? Just wanted to say hello.
I get us into the room and lock the door behind me before responding.Hi there!Just getting in. Reggie and I were at Serena’s. She says hi and she misses you.
The gray dots bounce to tell me Marina’s typing. I kick off my shoes and head to the little kitchen area where there’s a bottle of red wine I opened a day or two ago.I owe her a visit.
I pour myself half a glass and take a seat on the sofa where I can look out the window at the lights and the nightlife. I have a sudden flash of earlier today on this same sofa, and a tingle runs through me.How was the tour?
She sends an eye roll emoji and says,Mostly fine. One stronzo who thinks he knows Italian food better than his guide. American. Sorry, bella.
I don’t know the proper translation for the wordstronzo, but I can take a guess.Of course he was American. Don’t apologize. We are a country full of arrogant people.
The dots bounce.Have a good time with Serena?
I did. I nod, even though she can’t see it.Hey, can I ask you something?
Her answer comes in seconds.Always.
I type and send before I can change my mind.We’re casual, right? This thing we’re doing?
The dots bounce. Then they stop and go away. I wait, and they come back, but then disappear again. Uh-oh. I nibble on the inside of my bottom lip until the dots show up again, then words.
Oh, assolutamente!I can only assume that means absolutely, and it’s followed up by two smiling emoji, one laughing, and two more smiling. I double-check Google Translate to be sure of my own interpretation. I am right and relieved, but when I look ather text again,Lotta smiles, is what I think. Another text comes.It’s the only thing that makes sense, no?
I stare at that line for a moment, wondering why I feel slightly ill reading it. I’m also not as relieved as I thought I’d be at her agreement, but I don’t want to examine that. Not tonight.
Okay,I type.Just wanted to check. You free tomorrow?
There’s a pause. No bouncing dots or anything. Just a pause with nothing. Just when I think something happened and she’s maybe not coming back at all, the dots appear. Then,I am. Want to come here again?
I don’t wait at all.Love to,I send back, adding a string of my own smiling emoji.
I’m off to bed. Sleep well, she says next, and while it seems a bit abrupt, I also remind myself that she gave two tours today. That’s a lot of talking and a lot of being “on,” and when you have to deal with an asshole in the process, like the guy she described, I imagine it takes an even bigger toll. So I say good night, send her a kiss emoji, and set my phone aside.
The wine is lovely. Peppery and rich and deep, and with each sip, I feel relaxed, happy. I had no idea I’d feel so comfortable here. In a foreign country, away from the things I’m used to, my things. Having Reggie here with me definitely helps, but I realize, despite my conversation with Serena earlier, I am surprisingly less homesick than I thought I’d be at this point. If I’m being completely honest, I predicted I’d have headed home by now.
Of course, I also predicted I’d have headed home empty-handed by now, with no novel, no plot outline, barely anideaof where my book should go. And look how that’s turned out.
Life, am I right?
I stay there in the dark and finish my wine, just letting my mind wander and my muscles relax, until I finally decide to push to my feet and wander the few feet to the bedroom where Reggieis already sound asleep and snoring.
I undress, brush my teeth, wash my face, and crawl into bed to play big spoon to my tiny dog. My body is tired, but my brain is still rolling, replaying conversations between me and Serena, me and my mother, me and Marina, around and around until I decide to use the exercise I got from a yoga teacher once. I focus on my breath. It sounds silly and it’s damn hard to get good at, especially for somebody like me whose brain has a hard time shutting the fuck up. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, deeply and slowly, trying to focus on nothing but my breath, the air filling my lungs, my lungs expanding in my chest, then I let it out slowly through my mouth. As I do this a few times, I can feel my body start to relax and my brain’s whirring slow to a more acceptable speed. And in my mind’s eye—which I’m supposed to keep blank for this exercise—I see Marina’s beautiful face smiling at me, her dark eyes crinkled at the corners, her high cheekbones rosy. She reaches for me.
Yeah, there’s really no better way to fall asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
I spend another three weeks in very near bliss.
Not gonna lie, it’s pretty awesome.
I’m blowing through this book as if the words are literally flowing from my fingertips onto the screen. Every day feels better than the last. My characters feel real, three-dimensional, realistic, and likable. Hell,I’mrooting for them, and I already know they’re going to end up together. I’ve never written this quickly. Never.
Scott is flabbergasted when I tell him I’m almost done. I can tell by his stuttering and how long it takes him to formulate a complete sentence, and there’s a part of me that’s mildly insulted, but I let it go. He finally figures out how to speak coherently, and then his joy is apparent. He says he’ll send my news through the proper channels, and by the time we hang up, he’s almost giddy. So am I.
