Page 18 of Wish I Were Here
But I’d pulled away, and he’d made a joke, and that was it. The next time I saw him I was tripping over a bike in the mail room, and the time after that was the lost dry cleaning incident. I realized how unreliable he is, and I’m assuming he decided that I’m—
Well, I don’t know what he decided, since I’m still waiting to hear what word comes to mind when he thinks of me. I’m not sure why I’m holding my breath, but I am.
Luca looks me over. “Determined,” he finally says. “Passionate.”
My heart slams into my chest.
“You never, ever do anything halfway,” he says, like he might actually admire that about me.
I could toss these files aside, cross the room, and be in his arms in less than ten seconds. Something about the way he’s looking at me makes me think he might welcome it.
Except that Luca kisses everyone, and dances with everyone. And charms everyone.
I spin back around to turn my attention to the file box. What am I doing staring into Luca’s eyes and contemplatingthrowing myself at him when I have the biggest crisis of my life to avert? If I don’t get it together, I’m about to lose this apartment and everything else I worked so hard for.
“What are you looking for?” Luca asks, and if it comes out a bit gravelly, it’s not because of me.
I pull my neatly labeled files from the red section of the box and fan them on the floor.Health Insurance,Credit Card,Bank Account. Here it is…Personal Identification.
I reach into the folder and find my Social Security card along with my birth certificate, both stashed in clear plastic envelopes to protect them from water damage. “This. I’m looking for this.” I wave the papers in Luca’s direction.
Luca’s brow furrows. “Why do you need your Social Security card and birth certificate? I thought you said you submitted all the paperwork for your new job already.”
“I did! It was all there!”
“Then… what are we doing here?”
I stagger to my feet, clutching the paperwork tightly against my chest. “I don’t know whatyou’redoing here, but I’m about to go and prove that I exist.”
Luca follows me back downstairs to the lobby like an overeager puppy, lapping at my heels and barking questions. “So wait a minute. The human resources lady really accused you of not existing?”
“She said I made up my dissertation.My dissertation.Can you believe it?” Somehow this feels like the worst offense. My dissertation took me three years, about a hundred sleepless nights, and a thousand tears. My back still aches from those uncomfortable library chairs I practically lived in while I was researching and writing it. And Helen just tried to delete it all.
“So where are you going with those?” Luca nods at the paperwork in my hand. “How are you going to prove you reallyarereal?”
“I’m going to the Social Security office. I’m sure it’s all just some sort of a silly mix-up. I’ll give them my paperwork, and they’ll find me in the system. By this afternoon, everything will be cleared up, and I’ll be on my way to the faculty luncheon like none of this ever happened.” My words might sound confident, but this entire day I’ve felt like I’m trying to solve forx, whenyandzare a mystery.
Luca must hear the waver in my voice, because he reaches out a hand and gently touches my forearm. “Listen, Catherine, let me drive you to the Social Security office.”
I hesitate. On the one hand, the Social Security office is all the way across town. It will take me two buses and probably an hour to get there. On the other hand…
“What about the elevator?”
Luca sighs. “What if I promised that Dante is on his way over here right now to fix the elevator?”
At that moment, a tall, dark-haired white man pushes open the front door and walks in. “Hey, cuz,” he says, crossing the lobby to give Luca some sort of elaborate handshake that ends in a one-armed hug. When he releases Luca’s hand and turns to me, I can see the resemblance. He’s broader than Luca but has the same dark eyes and almost-black hair swooping over his forehead.
“How’s it going?” He hitches his chin at me. “I’m Dante.”
“Catherine,” I say, giving him a regular handshake. So, it turns out that Dante, the elevator guy, is Luca’s cousin? He’s wearing coveralls and well-worn work boots, and it looks like that might be his truck with the ladder parked in front of the building. But is he actually a licensed repairman, or did Luca just hire him because he’s family?
“Thanks for coming over again,” Luca says.
“I can’t believe Mrs. Hartman is at it already.”
Luca shrugs. “It’s their anniversary.”
Dante nods like this makes perfect sense.
