Italian for Beginners (8 page)

“You look deep in thought.” Kris popped her head up over my cubicle wall with a grin.

I cleared my throat. “No. Just busy with some e-mails,” I said innocently.

“On your AOL page?” she asked with a smile, nodding at my screen.

I reddened, which was evidently all the answer she needed.

“So who are you waiting for an e-mail from?”

I glanced nervously at the screen. “No one,” I said quickly.

She raised an eyebrow. “No one?” she repeated. “Interesting, considering you’ve checked your e-mail, like, a hundred times
today, and you seem to be breaking out in a cold sweat.”

I could feel the blood rise to my cheeks.

“And now you’re blushing,” she continued smoothly, “which pretty much confirms my suspicion that it’s a guy. I’m hoping it’s
not the married restaurant dude.”

I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

She was silent, staring me down. “Then who?” she finally asked. “You have
another
new guy?”

“Well,” I said. “He’s not exactly new.…”

Just then, my computer made a little clicking noise, alerting me to a new message. My breath caught in my throat as I turned
to look and saw the familiar e-mail address I’d been waiting to hear from all day: Francesco
[email protected]
.

Francesco had written back.

Ignoring Kris, I turned quickly to my computer and clicked on the message. My heart was pounding. In a second, the e-mail
popped up on the screen. I read it hungrily.

Bella!

Greetings from Italia! I think to you still. You are written in my memory. Please, you must come back to Italia to see me.
My heart longs for you.

Love and kisses,

Francesco

I read and reread the e-mail breathlessly. I could hardly believe that he had written me back, but to tell me I was written
in his memory? That his heart longed for me? I felt a little woozy.

“Who’s this Francesco?” Kris cut into my thoughts, sounding amused. She had come up behind me and was reading over my shoulder.

“No one,” I mumbled, hastily closing the message and blinking a few times to steady myself.

“No one?” she repeated. “Come on, Cat.”

And so, after a brief pause, I told her the whole story, beginning with the day I first saw him at a nightclub in Rome and
ending with my eventual e-mail to him last night. When I finished, she was staring at me with her jaw hanging open.

“How come you’ve never mentioned him before?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He was in the past, you know?”

“Well, he’s not in the past anymore,” Kris said. “So?” She paused and looked at me closely. “What are you going to do?”

“Do?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “The man of your dreams, apparently, has just invited you to Italy. Don’t tell me you’re not going to
go.”

My face turned even hotter. “I can’t go to Italy!”

“Why not?”

I didn’t have a good answer for that. “I d-d-don’t know,” I stammered finally. “I mean, it’s just impractical. I can’t afford
it. I have work to do.”

“You haven’t taken a vacation day in years!” she said. “You could probably vanish for a month with all the time you have saved
up.”

I cleared my throat. “Nine weeks, actually,” I said.

Kris widened her eyes. “Seriously, girl? What are you waiting for?”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “What if my dad needs something? Or maybe Becky will need some help getting settled in the new apartment
she and Jay are moving to. Or what if one of my clients needs me?”

“Cat,” Kris said slowly, as if talking to someone whose comprehension skills were delayed. “You have a hot man in Italy who
wants you to come visit him. Isn’t it time you put yourself first for once in your life?”

“But I—” I began to say. Kris cut me off.

“Seriously, Cat,” she said. She sounded stern now. “It’s truly ridiculous if you don’t go. You deserve this. You
need
this.” She paused and added, “If you don’t go, I think you’ll always wonder about what could have been. And that’s no way
to live.”

“I don’t know… ,” I said, my voice trailing off.

Kris stared at me for another long moment. Then, without a word, she stepped into my cubicle, nudged me aside, and hit the
REPLY
button on Francesco’s e-mail.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she typed something into the computer. I watched nervously over her shoulder as the words appeared
on the screen.

Are you sure you want me to come? It’s been a long time.…

She hit
SEND
before I had a chance to protest.

“Kris!” I exclaimed. “I can’t believe you just did that! What if he was just kidding? What if he didn’t mean it! What if…”

Just then, my e-mail clicked again, to let me know I had an incoming message. I stared in disbelief as Francesco’s address
came up on the screen again. Wordlessly, Kris maneuvered the mouse and clicked. Holding my breath, I read over her shoulder.

Of course I want you to come. True love, it lives forever, no? Please come to Roma. Soon, my bella.

“Oh,” I breathed.

Kris smiled at me. “Okay, Juliet,” she said. “Let’s send you off to your Roman Romeo.” I tried not to think about how that
particular story ended. “Do you have your passport?” she asked.

I nodded, numbly.

“Fantastic,” she said briskly. “Give me your credit card, and I’ll get started on booking you a flight. You start with filling
out the vacation request paperwork.”

“ But—” I began.

“Just do it,” Kris said firmly. “I’m not letting you back out of this one. Now, when would you like to go? Thursday? Friday?”

I snorted. “Are you kidding me?”

Kris shrugged. “Do I
sound
like I’m kidding?”

I felt like I was in a fog—or perhaps living someone else’s life— as I walked down the hall to HR to pick up a vacation request
form. Amber, the HR coordinator, looked at me like I was nuts.

“
You
want to take a vacation?” she asked.

I nodded.

“My God!” she exclaimed. “Hell has frozen over!”

I stared at her, not sure how to respond. “I don’t have to go,” I backpedaled. “I mean, or I can take the vacation whenever
it’s convenient so that I don’t put anyone else out.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to request a vacation for the past five years. Please!
Go!”

“ But—” I began.

“Don’t say another word,” she said firmly.

While Amber was still laughing I walked out with the vacation request form clutched in my hand, still not really believing
that I was going to do this.

Until I got back to my desk.

“So, I’ve booked your outgoing flight for Thursday,” Kris said cheerfully. “When would you like to return?”

“Wait,
this Thursday
?”

Kris turned and shrugged at me. “I found a great deal on Travelocity. A last-minute fare. Don’t blame me.”

I took a deep breath. “Kris. This is crazy.”

She smiled at me. “Yeah,” she said. “It is. And that’s exactly why you have to do it. When have you
ever
done anything crazy or irresponsible in your life?”

“Nothing good has ever come out of being irresponsible,” I said stiffly.

She studied my face for a moment and sighed. “Cat, life is messy. Sometimes you have to take chances. You have to step outside
your comfort zone. You have to do things that are irresponsible or downright stupid. Does it leave you open to getting hurt?
Yeah, of course it does. But how can you say you’ve lived if you’ve never really gone out on a limb for anything?”

I considered this as a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “It just seems like such a dumb thing to do,” I said.

“Cat, sometimes you
have
to do dumb things,” she said. “Life works out the way it’s supposed to, anyhow. For goodness’ sake, do you think I was supposed
to be with Dani’s dad? Was he really the smartest choice for me? Of course not. But I followed my heart, and now I have my
little girl, and I have absolutely no regrets. Sometimes you
have
to break out of your comfort zone to get to where you need to be in life.”

I considered this. I glanced at the computer, where Travelocity’s return flight options loomed in full, vibrant color. I thought
about Francesco’s e-mail.
Please come to Roma. Soon, my bella.
I thought about how I’d never taken any real chances with my life since that summer in Rome. I thought about how it felt
to fall asleep in Francesco’s arms and hold his hand and look into his eyes, and how I hadn’t felt that with anyone since
I’d last seen him.

I swallowed hard. I had nine weeks of vacation time accumulated. My sister was all grown up. My dad could certainly take care
of himself.

“I’ll go for four weeks,” I heard myself say. “I can afford four weeks in a hotel.”

Kris stared at me in disbelief, then broke into a wide smile as I stared, stunned by the words that had just come out of my
mouth. As I fumbled to take them back, I watched in horror as she quickly clicked
SELECT
, filled in my credit card information, and hit
BUY TICKET
.

“You’re going to Rome,” she said, sitting back in the chair, her face glowing with satisfaction.

“But… ,” I said weakly.

She grinned. “Too late to back out now,” she said. “The ticket is nonrefundable.”

“Oh, my God,” I muttered. It was all sinking in now. I was going to Rome. By myself. In two days. To reunite with a man I
hadn’t seen in more than a decade. What if he didn’t find me attractive anymore? What if he had changed and I no longer liked
him?

While I agonized, Kris was cheerfully e-mailing Francesco back. I gazed weakly at her response, feeling suddenly disconnected
from the whole situation.

Francesco,

I’ve gotten some time off work and can be there Friday. I’ll try to find a hotel.

Cat

He wrote back immediately.

Cat,

Friday? You make my heart sing. I will wait for your arrival. Send me your flight information, and I will arrive to pick you
up. I cannot wait to see you again, bella.

Molti baci,

Francesco

“There you go,” Kris said, turning to me triumphantly after I read Francesco’s reply. I felt like I wanted to pass out. “You’re
all set.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I murmured, still staring blankly at the computer screen.

“I can,” Kris said happily. “It’s about time you stop living life on the safe side.”

B
ecky and Jay came back from their honeymoon the next morning, and I met them for dinner at my father’s house. They’d already
gotten prints of a hundred of their honeymoon pictures, and my sister chattered nonstop while she talked us through all the
minute details of their trip. Jay looked bored, and I could see my father’s eyelids beginning to droop by about the sixtieth
photo, but I tried to focus on what she was saying. After all, it was important to her, and I always tried very hard to pay
attention to the things that mattered to my sister.

She didn’t finish her honeymoon stories until long after Dad and I had cleared away the remnants of the walnut butter pasta
and chopped salad I’d made for dinner. It wasn’t until the four us settled in for coffee in the living room that I finally
dropped my bomb.

“I’m going to Italy on Thursday,” I said casually, hiding my smile behind the rim of the cracked
DAUGHTERS ARE LIFE’S GREATEST GIFT
mug my father always insisted I drink out of.

Becky spit her coffee out. “What?”

Jay wiped her coffee splatters off his shirt and echoed, “Italy?”

My father simply smiled. “Good girl,” he said.

I looked at Becky, Jay, and then locked eyes with my dad for a long time. I shrugged. “I think you were right,” I said. “I
think maybe it’s something I need to do.”

“Thursday?” Becky said, still staring at me. “But that’s, like, two days from now.”

I nodded. “Blame Kris for that,” I said. “She found me a cheap last-minute ticket. But it’s probably better. It won’t be enough
time to talk myself out of it, will it?”

“That’s great,” Jay said, nodding. “Italy. Wow.”

“But that’s really sudden, Cat,” Becky said, laying a hand on his arm to quiet him. “I mean, are you sure about this?”

I glanced at my father and then back at her. “I thought this was your idea,” I said to her.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “But I didn’t think you’d actually
do
it. You never do anything.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over us for a moment. My father cleared his throat. “Well, she’s doing this, and I think it’s
wonderful.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, feeling suddenly uncertain. Becky was right, wasn’t she? This was completely out of character for
me, completely foolish. My heart started to sink. But then she clapped her hands together and smiled at me.

“You’re right,” she said. “Totally right. It sounds super fun. I’m just jealous I can’t go.”

“Where are you staying?” Jay asked.