Page 104 of Better Than Gelato
“What’s happening next week?” Naomi says.
“We’re flying to Greece,” Jake says. “I told you about it on the plane to Malta.”
“I wasn’t listening,” she says, unapologetically. “Greece...That sounds interesting…” She has a calculating look in her eye.
“You know—” she starts, but I interrupt her.
“I better catch my bus. Safe trip home tomorrow!” I tell her cheerfully. Then I give Jake a kiss and book it out of there as fast as I can.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Tonight’s going to suck. And I don’t know how to make it not suck. The last time our whole gang was together was a month ago, right after Diego passed. I know everyone’s been busy. I also know that being together makes it glaringly obvious he’s not with us anymore. I think we’ve avoided meeting up to lessen the pain of his absence.
On top of that, it’s the night Jake and I say goodbye to everyone. We leave for Greece tomorrow, and after that, it’s back home to America.
I stand next to my bed staring at the pictures I printed this week. They’re from the night I brought my camera to Calypso. My heart aches to see Diego smiling goofily, knowing that he was already sick but keeping it from us. His face is so full of life, it’s hard to look at.
I took my time choosing the perfect shot for each of my friends. The first one we took turned out great, and it goes to Carmen. For Paolo, I choose a shot where Carmen, Diego, and I are looking at the camera, but Valentina and Paolo are looking at each other. And Valentina gets the last picture in the series where we’re laughing and confused and a tangle of limbs. We all look so happy.
There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to look at any of these pictures. That wants to remove all the reminders of Diego from my heart and my mind, because it’s too painful. It’s the part of myself that’s a coward. I force myself to look at his face and remember his laugh, even if it hurts.
I slip each photo into a frame, then wrap them and tuck them into my purse. On the way downtown, my brain keeps throwing depressing thoughts at me.This is the last time you’ll zip past these stores. This is the last time you’ll meet all your friends on the steps of the piazza.By the time I get to il Duomo, I feel like a pile of limp spaghetti.
And then something amazing happens. Jake and Valentina and Carmen are all sitting on the steps waiting for me. But Paolo is standing. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and tennis shoes. He has a baseball cap on his head. He sees me and yells in a terrible American accent, “Hey dude! What’s up?”
I burst out laughing. “What in the world are you wearing, Paolo?” I ask.
“Actually, it’s Paul,” he says.
“Paul?”
“Si.Paul the super cool American.”
I look at Valentina, and she shakes her head.
“Paolo thought you might have a hard time saying goodbye. I think dressing up like an American is supposed to cheer you up. I told him it was a terrible idea.”
He looks absurd. The jeans are baggy, and his T-shirt has a couple of holes in it. The baseball hat is covering his thick hair, which he is enormously proud of. It reminds me of wearing an evening gown so Isa wouldn’t be sad on her last day.Thisis why Paolo and I are best friends.
“It’s a brilliant idea,” I say to Valentina and Paolo.
Jake takes my hand and the five of us make our way to a pizzeria nearby and get a large table in the back. I sit down and look at Jake, Carmen, Valentina, and Paolo. I look at the spot where Diego should be. I want to burst into tears.
Carmen sees my face and says, “We aren’t moping or saying goodbye all night. Got it?”
“Got it.” I forgot how forceful she can be. But she’s effective. I don’t mention leaving or missing people.
I do talk a lot about UC San Diego’s photography program.
Is this how Jake feels when he talks about his research? Like the people you’re talking to sure look bored, but how can they be when it’s so interesting? Surely they want to hear more.
We talk about Diego some. Paolo’s been keeping in touch with his mom. He sent her some of the photos he’d taken of Diego on their trips.
Carmen mentions she got some great news from a friend back home. She doesn’t tell us what it is but says she’s excited for a fresh start. I’m pretty sure her friend is a lawyer.
When it’s time to go, I give Carmen and Paolo and Valentina their gifts. I wanted them to open them right now, so I could see their reactions, but I change my mind at the last minute.
“Open them when you get home,” I say.
