“Give her more,” Ren said. “She looks like she’s going to eat her arm.”
“Hey—” I started, but then Odette handed me the rest of the cookies and I was too busy eating to properly defend myself.
Odette smiled. “I love a girl who can eat. Now, where were we? Oh—I didn’t really introduce myself, did I? I swear, this place is turning me into a savage. I’m Odette Ferrara. It’s like ‘Ferrari,’ but with an a. Pleased to meet you.” She extended her hand, and I wiped crumbs off mine so we could shake. “Can we talk about air-conditioning? And drive-thru restaurants? Those are the two things I’ve been missing most this summer.”
“You never even let us eat fast food when we’re in the States,” Ren said.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t eat it. And whose side are you on anyway? Mine or the Signore’s?”
“No comment.”
“Who’s the Signore?” I asked.
“My dad. I have no idea how they ended up together. You know those weird animal friendship videos, where a bear and a duck become best friends? They’re kind of like that.”
Odette cackled. “Oh, come on. We’re not that different. But now I’m curious. In that scenario, would you consider me the bear or the duck?”
“I’m not going there.”
Odette turned to me. “So what do you think of my Ren?”
I swallowed and handed the rest of the cookies to Ren, who was eyeing them like they were his precious. “He’s . . . very friendly.”
“And handsome, too, isn’t he?”
“Mom.”
I felt myself blush a little. Ren was cute, but in that kind of way that you don’t really notice at first. He had deep brown eyes fringed with ridiculously long lashes, and when he smiled he had a little gap between his front teeth. But again, that wasn’t the sort of the thing you told someone you just met.
Odette waved her hand at me. “Well, we’re so glad to have you in town. I’m pretty sure Ren has been having the most boring summer of his life. I told him just this morning that he needs to get out more.”
“Come on, Mom. It’s not like I just sit home all day.”
“All I know is that once a certain ragazza went out of town, you suddenly had no interest in going out.”
“I go out when I feel like it. Mimi has nothing to do with it.”
“Who’s Mimi?” I asked.
“His crush,” Odette said in a stage whisper.
“Mooom,” Ren growled. “I’m not nine.”
A phone started ringing, and Odette began pulling papers and art supplies off the table. “Where in the . . . ? Pronto?”
A little girl appeared in the doorway wearing a pair of ruffled underpants and black dress shoes. “I pooped!”
Odette gave her a double thumbs-up and then walked into the house, speaking on the phone in rapid Italian.
Ren groaned. “Gabriella, that is so embarrassing. Get back in the bathroom. We have company here.”
She ignored him, turning to me instead. “Tu chi sei?”
“She doesn’t speak Italian,” Ren said. “She’s American.”
“Anch’io! Are you Lorenzo’s girlfriend?” she asked.
“No. I just met him when I was out for a walk. My name’s Lina.”
She studied me for a minute. “You’re kind of like a principessa. Maybe like Rapunzel because of your crazy hairs.”
“It’s hair, not hairs, Gabriella,” Ren said. “And it’s not nice to tell someone their hair is crazy.”
“My hairs are crazy,” I confirmed.
“Do you want to see my criceto?” Gabriella ran over and grabbed my hand. “Come now, principessa. You will really like him. His furs are so soft.”
“Sure.”
Ren put his hand on her shoulder. “Carolina, no. And, Gabriella, she doesn’t want to. She has to leave soon.”
“I don’t mind. I like kids.”
“No, seriously, trust me. Going into her room is like stepping into a time warp. Before you know it, you’ll have been playing Barbies for like five hours and you’ll be answering to Princess Sparkle.”
“Non è vero, Lorenzo. You’re so mean!”
Ren answered in Italian, and Gabriella gave me a betrayed look and then ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“What’s a criceto?”
“In English . . . a hamster, I think? Little annoying animal, runs on a wheel?”
“Yep. Hamster. She’s cute.”
“Sometimes she’s cute. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No. But I used to babysit a lot for a family in my apartment building. They had triplet boys who were five.”
“Whoa.”
“Whenever their mom left, she’d say, Just keep them alive. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“So you tied them up or something?”
“No. The first time I babysat I wrestled them, and after that they loved me. Also, I always came over with my pockets full of fruit snacks.” At my mom’s funeral, one of the boys asked where I’d been and his brother said, Her mom is sleeping for a really long time. That’s why she can’t play with us anymore.
My throat tightened at the memory. “I’d better get going. Howard might wonder where I am.”