Page 95 of Wish I Were Here
“No, I’m sure he was there. You introduced me.” Except… the memory hovers at the edge of my consciousness…
I’dintroduced myself when I got in the car, and Mrs. Goodwin had remarked that she already knew who I was. Is it possible Mrs. Goodwin and Luca didn’t know Sal was there? Is it possible Salwasn’tthere?
“Luca, I’ve seen him half a dozen times in the stairwell. He gave me butterscotch candies, and I ate them. They…”
“Made me think of my grandpa.” Luca looks as dazed as I feel. “That day when you got out of the car. You smelled like butterscotch.”
That moment when Luca leaned in, and I thought he was going to kiss me.
Luca’s gaze drifts to mine. “How did Grandpa look? How…” His voice breaks. “How was he?”
I grab his hand and squeeze. “He was wonderful.” I slide closer. “I’m so grateful I got to know him.”
“I bet it was Grandpa who meddled with your identity.” He gives a stunned laugh and shakes his head. “It had to be.”
And then it comes back to me, too.Some days, I’d simply like to be… nobody.Sal was there. Even if I didn’t say it outloud, he heard me. And somehow, he knew I needed this. I needed an opportunity disguised as a disaster. And maybe he knew I needed Luca, too.
Luca’s eyes soften. “Your apartment used to be my grandpa’s. It took me ages to rent it out. But then you came along, and… I knew you were the one.” He pulls me against his chest. “Maybe Grandpa knew you were the one, too.”
We drift back down to the floor into our nest of blankets. I lay my head on Luca’s chest, and he tucks his arm around me, settling his hand on my hip.
“You know,” I muse. “This strange nest on the floor is actually pretty comfortable.”
“The elevator is out…”
I nod. “It’s been a hard couple of weeks for Mrs. Hartman.”
Luca raises an eyebrow likefinallyI’m getting it. “Half the building will be heading home from the fundraiser soon. So I’m going to need to stay here to make sure I’m available to take them on the freight elevator.”
“Would you like some company?” I glance up to meet his eyes.
Luca cocks his head, squinting at me like he can’t quite decide. “Well… technically, sleeping on the floor isn’t permitted. It’s all laid out in the building’s manual of rules and regulations.”
“That’s fine with me.” I lean in and press a kiss to his lips. “Don’t you know that these days, I’m breaking all the rules?”
One year later
When I step into the vast warehouse of ArtSpace, the first thing that hits me is the scent. It’s a bit musty, vaguely dank, and mixed with the sharp notes of oil paint and Chanel No. 5. But instead of leaving me disconcerted with memories of my childhood, it’s pleasant, comforting. I’ve spent more time in ArtSpace in the past year than I have since I was a kid. I usually come here about once a week now—to visit with Dad, but also to share a bottle of wine with Ginger Ale and to talk romance novels with Frenchy.
We all spent Christmas Eve at the Morellis’ last year, but Ginger still puts our presents under the bike that she’d dressed up in twinkling lights, and we came by on Christmas Day to keep traditions alive. And today, I’m here to celebrate ArtSpace’s thirtieth anniversary.
My gaze skates across the crowd of people, and I absently wonder if Melanie made it this time. Though she RSVPed, my mother actually shows up about fifty percent of the time that she says she will. But I think she’s trying as best she can.
It’s funny that I ever thought she was the reliable one, when actually, that title has to go to Luca. He’s still alwayslate for things, but it’s usually because he’s driving someone to the pharmacy, helping out at the community center, or putting an older lady to bed.
I search for him in the crowd, and I find him standing with Dad. They’re talking and laughing—probably rehashing one of their adventures at Burning Man earlier this month. They had a blast.
I opted to stay home.
When Luca spots me across the crowd, his face lights up with that smile that’s just for me. He says something to Dad and heads in my direction. I greet him with a kiss.
“I thought you’d never get here, Moonstone,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows, and I laugh because this time,I’mthe one who’s late.
“Radhika and I just found out that our paper was accepted toStudies in Applied Mathematics.”
Luca gives a yell and picks me up off my feet in a hug. “I knew it would.” He takes my hand. “Come on, let’s get some champagne to celebrate.”
As we cross the warehouse, I can’t help but notice that ArtSpace is sparkling like one giant burlesque costume come to life tonight. Uncle Vito sent his guys over earlier this week to get up on ladders, clean the windows, and install brand-new lighting. The aerialists spin on their overhead silks, the acrobats do flips, Mrs. Goodwin is leading the Macarena, and the community center’s juggling club tosses colorful balls in the air.
