“Fortunato. Have you gone running yet?”
“No. I was just about to. Want to come?”
“Already on my way. Meet me at the cemetery gates.”
I changed, then ran out to meet him. Ren was wearing a bright orange T-shirt and was jogging in place like an old man. As usual his hair was in his eyes and he looked sort of warm and glowy from the run over.
“How is this not American-looking?” I asked, plucking at his shirt.
“It’s not American-looking when it’s on an Italian.”
“Half-Italian,” I corrected.
“Half is enough. Trust me.” We started up the road.
“So your mom won a LensCulture Award,” he said.
I looked at him. “How’d you know?”
“There’s this thing called the Internet. It’s really helpful.”
“Oh yeah, I vaguely remember that from back before I lived in Italy.” I’d tried to FaceTime Addie about ten times that morning to update her on the night’s reading, but so far I’d just gotten this annoying NO SERVIZIO message over and over. At least now I could use Howard’s phone whenever I wanted.
“I found a bunch of articles on her. You didn’t tell me she was a big deal.”
“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.”