Page 57 of Love Lessons
And now I have to watch them get hitched. Fanfuckingtastic.
I pull an ornate response card from the envelope. My name is already printed on it, and there are two choices:will attendandregrets.
With gritted teeth, I choosewill attend. Seeing as my mother already made that choice for me.
Unfortunately, there’s one more question on that card—a blank space, with:seats reserved in your honor. In other words—am I going alone, or bringing a date?
Huh.
I don’t have a date. But I don’t want to admit it, so I put “2” in the blank, and seal it up.
Then I find send her a message.Could you do me a little favor? Can you use your Italian skills to buy a postage stamp? I have to mail a letter back home. I check the message twice to make sure I spelled everything correctly.
Of course, she replies almost immediately.If I found you the perfect shirt, do you want it? The seams are cotton. Or maybe they’re made of butter. That’s how soft they are.
Sure. Thanks.Get me whatever and I’ll pay you back. Go nuts.
She sends back a torrent of clapping hands.Whee! Off to spend your money.
I think I just created a monster.
NINETEEN
Crying in the Bathroom
VERA
* * *
“Milan is truly my spiritual home,”I declare as we march down another narrow, curving street with pristine shops on either side. I’m loaded down with shopping bags. “My credit card is going to hate me. But most of this loot is for other people who will eventually pay me back.”
“I was done shopping after the second store,” Fiona says. “But that lunch was amazing. And the gelato is good.” She’s on her second cone. “Aly and I are going to peel off and see the cathedral. Anyone want to join us?”
“Me!” Sylvie raises her hand. “I don’t need to spend any more money than I already have.”
We make a plan to meet up again in an hour, and the three of them depart.
“Quitters,” Charli says cheerfully.
“It’s just the hardcore shoppers now,” Heidi Jo agrees. “Although none of us can out-shop Vera.”
“I think I’m going to need a second day in Milan, so I can really dig into the specialty retailers.”
“I’m game,” Charli says with a shrug. “It’s fun watching you work. Where are we headed now?”
“There. Something a little different.” I point to a shop that specializes in cashmere and merino knits. “This place intrigues me. It’s not all sweaters and socks. They make wool underwear. Wool T-shirts. There’s even a sports bra.”
“Sounds itchy,” Heidi Jo says. But once inside the store, she changes her tune. “Ooh, these tights are luscious,” she says, fingering the stockings.
“Aren’t they?” Fashion isn’t always about a cutting-edge design. A top-quality fabric can turn the ordinary into the extraordinary.
I pause at a table of cashmere sweaters. It’s possible to get cashmere for less than a hundred bucks at Macy’s or J. Crew. But not all cashmere isthiscashmere. I run my hand over a brick-toned sweater, and it feels like a cloud.
“That’s gorgeous,” Charli says.
“Isn’t it? The variegation of the yarn is so subtle. My grandmother would have looked great in this.” She’s the one I think of whenever I see something gorgeous in shades of red.
Charli squeezes my arm before she moves away, because she knows I really miss my nonna.
