Page 43 of Better Than Gelato
So I take pictures of the colorful chandeliers, and a profile shot of the bartender mixing drinks. I take photos over the balcony of the dancing crowd below. I take candids of Carmen and Paolo arguing and Diego and Valentina salsa-ing.
“Alright,ragazzi! Time for a group shot,” I holler. I set the timer, then squish with everyone else onto a tiny sofa. There’s a blinking light and a flash, and I know that this moment is recorded forever.
Then the light starts blinking again.
“Smile some more,” I call, just before it flashes. We’re trying to untangle ourselves from the couch when the camera blinks again. It flashes a third time capturing our tangle of limbs and confused faces. It flashes a fourth time capturing waving hands and everyone looking at me. It flashes a fifth time just as Carmen falls off Diego’s lap, which makes Paolo spill the drink he was holding, and accidentally elbow Valentina in the head.
As I edit the photos the next morning, I laugh so hard I have tears in my eyes.
ChapterTen
The muscles in my shoulders are as tight as guitar strings and there is so much sweat pouring out of my body I feel like I’m part slug. Jake got in from the states this morning, and I’m heading downtown to see him. And break up with him. Or not? I was up all night worrying and now I’m about to see him, and I still have no idea what to do.
On the one hand, I hate serious relationships and it’s clear I suck at being a girlfriend. On the other hand, I think about sitting on a boat with him in the middle of a lake. Holding his hand down cobblestone streets. Eating with him. Dancing with him. Kissing him. I think about the way he looks at me and the way he listens to me. The way my heart speeds up when I think about him. I’ve missed him these last two weeks. But I’m also anxious.
I know once I see him, everything I’m feeling is going to be written all over my face. And I’m terrified to find out what that is.
He’s waiting on the steps of the piazza when I get there, but the place is packed, and he doesn’t see me yet. I close the distance between us. Twenty feet, then fifteen. I see the exact moment he spots me and it’s like the sun rising over his face. He jumps off the steps and comes running toward me, and I guess at some point I start running toward him, because I jump into his arms with a fair amount of force. We collide in an explosion of happiness.
And we’re kissing and smiling and laughing and kissing more. I can feel his stubble against my cheek and his hand on the back of my neck. I can feel electricity zinging from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. It’s shocking how good it feels to be in his arms. It’s fireworks and wonder. His arms encircle my waist and pull me closer to him.Why was I so scared of this?I wonder blurrily. This is magic and excitement and every good thing.
I melt into him and feel the tension drain out of my body. He kisses me, and it’sHelloandI’ve missed youandHow are you doing?I kiss him back and try to tell him that I’m so glad he’s here, and I’m so glad I’m with him. When we finally break apart, I’m breathless and smiling and giddy.
“Hello,” Jake says.
“Hello,” I say back.
“I missed you.”
I nod. “Me too.”
We stand there holding each other for a long time, unwilling to let go. Finally, I remember my manners.
“How were the interviews? How was your trip? How are you doing?”
“I’m doing amazing. I can’t think of a time I’ve ever felt this good.” His eyes are bright, and he’s grinning at me and ohmygosh, I want to start kissing him again. I take a step back.
“Tell me about the interviews,” I say.
“I think they went well. I’ll know more in a couple of weeks. For now, I’m relieved it’s over.”
“What do you feel like doing?” I look at him closely, and he looks exhausted. “Do you want to take a nap?” I know his flight was a red eye.
“I do,” Jake says nodding. “But I’m not ready to leave you yet.”
“I’m a pretty good nap buddy…”
His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens a little. “Are you?”
I nod my head. “I don’t snore. I share covers. And I’m an accomplished spooner.”
“I’m sold.”
I reach up and kiss him again. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him.
My phone vibrates, and I ignore it. Then I get three more texts. Reluctantly, I pull it out and see a message from Carmen.
“No mangiare il pane davanti ai poveri.”
