Page 23 of Wish I Were Here
I close my eyes. Sorting this out feels impossible. The bureaucracy of government agencies is a nightmare to wade through even when you actuallyhavethe right paperwork. Since I don’t, people think I’m some sort of catfish or criminal who invented Catherine Lipton for nefarious purposes. “Well,” I say, opening my eyes to roll my head in Luca’s direction. “At least if I get hauled off to jail, it won’t end up on my permanent record… because I don’t have one.”
He crosses an arm over his flat abdomen as a sharp laugh escapes from his lips. “You should have seen your face when Officer Bill got involved. Was that the first time someone threatened to arrest you?”
It wasn’t, actually. Growing up with Dad, there were all sorts of opportunities for run-ins with the law. Like that time we ran out of gas money on the drive home from Burning Man and Dad set up his show on a street corner in Lincoln, Nebraska. He was unaware that it’s illegal to loiter in front of the state capitol. And there was that dance party in a warehouse in the South Side. Shocking nobody, the organizers didn’t secure a permit, so when Dad juggled fire and almost burned the building down, the firefighters and police had something to say about it. But Luca definitely doesn’t needto know about my almost-criminal history. He went to bat for me with his uncle Marco, promising I was an upstanding citizen.
The thought of Uncle Marco reminds me of something important.
I nudge him with my arm. “If I’d been hauled off to the slammer, would you have bailed me out,Elbow?”
Luca’s cheeks turn pink, and seeing him flustered is as charming as it was the first time around. “I was a skinny kid,” he says defensively. “All knees, and—you know.”
“Elbows,” I say, and suddenly, the laughter comes over me like a wave. I press my hand to my mouth to hold it back, but the more I try to stop, the more I lose control of it. I bend forward to suck enough air into my lungs, shoulders shaking. And finally, all the tension I’ve been holding since Helen told me I wasn’t on her list begins to ease.
Luca stands next to me, shaking his head, his expression a cross between amusement and exasperation. Finally, I pull myself together and stand up straight.
“Sorry,” I mutter, wiping my eyes as one last chuckle escapes. “Elbow,” I can’t help sliding in at the end.
Luca sighs. “The dangers of having family all over town,” he mutters. “Someone inevitably pops in the moment you’re standing next to a woman you’re trying to impress and calls you Elbow.”
My smile slowly fades. Is he referring tomeas the woman he’s trying to impress? I was the one standing next to him, after all. I suppose it’s possible he meant Tonya, but I’m pretty sure she clocks in at about twice his age. My mind flits back to that moment of connection we had in my apartmentearlier.Bothmoments in my apartment, actually, because that kiss last month definitely felt like a connection. At least it did for me. But I was never sure about Luca. Is it possible he’s attracted to me?
And then I remember that’s when Ellie appeared.
“Well,” I say primly, pushing off the car and moving away from Luca. “Thank you for defending me back there.”
“Of course.” His expression says that he’s not sure what to make of me. Which is understandable, because I’m not sure what to make of me, either.
“And thank you for the ride over here. I guess I should go home and figure out what to do next.” Since I have no idea what that is, I open my purse and dig through it, looking for—I don’t know what. Something that will make me feel in control of this situation and of my ragged emotions.
And then Luca is standing in front of me again. “Catherine,” he says. “This is a lot. Let me help you. We’ll sort this out together.”
“Really?” I tilt my head back and meet his eyes. And then I can’t help myself. “Why?”
Luca looks at me for a long moment. And then he shrugs. “Why not?”
And that probably sums it up. Luca isn’t thinking too deeply about this situation, or about me. It’s just something to do. He strikes me as someone who enjoys an adventure. And my lost identity is more interesting than manning the front desk.
But for most of my life, it’s been “me” sorting things out. I admit I like the sound of “we.” If Luca hadn’t been here today, I might have ended up in jail when Bill and UncleMarco stepped in. I don’t really know what to do next. So, as shaky as I feel about it, I can’t bring myself to say no to Luca’s offer of help.
“It sounds to me,” Luca says, “the first thing you need to do is find the original copy of your birth certificate. You said you weren’t sure if your dad has it. Can you ask him?”
I remember the box with the rubber chicken. We moved so many times, packed and unpacked so many boxes, Dad probably doesn’t even know what he has. “It’s possible, but it could be anywhere.”
“Well, at least it’s a place to start.” Luca pushes away from the car. “Does he live nearby? I can take you there now.”
At that moment, my stomach growls so loudly, it could be heard across the parking lot. I slap a hand to my abdomen, and Luca cocks his head. “When was the last time you ate something?”
And that’s when I remember the faculty luncheon. “Oh my God, Luca. I’m supposed to be at lunch with my new boss and the other people in my department. It starts in ten minutes. What are they going to think if I’m a no-show?” I make a run for the passenger side of the car and yank the door open. “Can you take me over there?”
Ten minutes later, Luca pulls the Town Car in front of the University Club. I flip down the sun visor and slide open the flap to check my face in the mirror. My makeup wore off hours ago, and after sweating up eight flights of stairs in my apartment building, my hair has gone frizzy. I pull a tube oflipstick and a comb from my bag and clean up as best I can. “Do I look okay? Am I at least passable?”
Luca is silent for a moment as he gazes across the center console at me. “Catherine, you always look…” He hesitates, his gaze roaming over me, lingering on my mouth before sliding to meet my eyes. The air in the car grows heavy. A beat passes, and then another. And behind us, a car honks, reminding me we’re blocking the lane.
Luca shifts toward the windshield. “You always look just like a math professor.”
I don’t know why that disappoints me, because a math professor is exactly what I want to look like. I grab my bag and hop out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”
He nods. “I’ll meet you on the lawn over there in an hour?”
