Love & Gelato (4 page)

I looked over my shoulder at the window. The moon was skimming the dark tree line, and if I hadn't known any better I would have thought the view was crazy pretty. “I'd better go. I'm using his cell phone, and this is probably costing a fortune.”

“Okay. Call me again as soon as you can. And seriously, don't worry. We'll have you out of there in no time.”

“Thanks, Addie. Hopefully I can FaceTime you tomorrow.”

“I'll be waiting by my computer. How do they say good-bye in Italy? ‘Choo'? ‘Chow'?”

“I have no idea.”

“Liar. You're the one who's always talked about traveling the world.”

“Hello and good-bye is ‘
ciao
.' ”

“I knew it.
Ciao,
Lina.”

“
Ciao
.”

Our call disconnected and I set the phone on the desk, my throat tight. I missed her already.

“Lina?”

Howard!
I practically tipped over in my chair. Had he been eavesdropping?

I scrambled to my feet, then opened the door a couple of inches. Howard was standing in the hallway holding a bunch of folded white towels that had been stacked up like a wedding cake.

“I hope I didn't interrupt you,” he said quickly. “I just remembered I meant to give you these.”

I studied his face, but it was as bland as whipped cream. Apparently being related meant nothing. I had no idea if he'd overheard my conversation with Addie.

I hesitated for a second, then opened the door wider and took the towels from him. “Thank you. And here's your phone.” I grabbed it from the desk, then handed it to him.

“So . . . what do you think?”

I flushed. “About . . . ?”

“About your room.”

“Oh. It's great. Really pretty.”

A big, relieved grin spread across his face. It was definitely the first genuine one of the night, and he looked about a hundred pounds lighter. Also, his smile was kind of lopsided.

“Good.” He leaned against the door frame. “I know I don't have the best taste, but I wanted it to be nice. A friend helped me paint the desk and dresser, and Sonia and I found the mirror at a flea market.”

Ugh. Now I had the image of him traipsing around Italy looking for stuff he thought I'd like. Why the sudden interest? As far as I knew, he'd never even sent me a birthday card.

“You didn't have to go to all that trouble,” I said.

“It wasn't any trouble. Really.”

He smiled again, and there was a long uncomfortable pause. The whole night had felt like being on a blind date with someone I had nothing in common with. No, it was worse. Because we
did
have something in common. We just weren't talking about it.
When are we going to talk about it?

Hopefully never.

Howard bobbed his head. “Well, good night, Lina.”

“Good night.”

His footsteps faded down the hall and I shut and locked the door again. My nineteen hours of travel had worked its way to the center of my forehead, and I had an insane headache. Time for this day to be over.

I put the towels on my dresser, then kicked off my shoes and took a flying leap onto the bed, sending sprays of decorative pillows in every direction.
Finally
. The bed was as soft as it looked and the sheets smelled awesome, like when my mom had sometimes hung ours on the line to dry. I wriggled under the covers and switched off the lamp.

Loud laughter erupted from downstairs. The music was still at full blast, and either they were doing the dishes or playing a loud round of indoor croquet, but who cared? After the day I'd had, I could fall asleep anywhere.

I had just drifted into that murky half-sleep phase when Howard's voice brought me back to consciousness.

“She's really quiet.”

My eyes snapped open.

“I don't think that's surprising, considering the scenario,” Sonia answered.

I didn't move a muscle. Apparently Howard didn't think sound traveled through open windows.

He lowered his voice. “Of course. It was just kind of a surprise. Hadley was so . . .”

“Lively? She really was. But Lina might surprise you. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she turned out to have some of her mother's oomph.”

He laughed quietly. “ ‘Oomph.'  That's one way to put it.”

“Give her a little time.”

“Of course. Thanks again for dinner—it was delicious.”

“My pleasure. I'm planning on posting up at the visitors' center tomorrow morning. Will you be in the office?”

“In and out. I'd like to be off early so I can take Lina into town.”

“Sounds good. Night, boss.” Sonia's footsteps crunched down the gravel driveway and a moment later the front door opened and then closed again.

I forced my eyes shut, but it was like I had soda pop running through my veins. What had Howard expected? That I'd be overjoyed about moving in with someone I'd never met? That I'd be superexcited about living in a cemetery? It's not like it was a big secret that I hadn't wanted to come here. I'd agreed only when my grandma had pulled out the big guns:
You promised your mom.

And why did he have to call me “quiet”? I
hated
being called quiet. People always said it like it was some kind of deficiency—like just because I didn't put everything out there right away, I was unfriendly or arrogant. My mom had understood.
You may be slow to warm up, but once you do, you light up the whole room.

Tears flooded my eyes and I rolled over, pressing my face into my pillow. Now that it had been more than six months, I could sometimes go whole hours pretending to be okay without her. But it never lasted long. Turns out reality is as hard and unforgiving as that fire hydrant Addie and I had run into.

And I had to live the whole rest of my life without her. I really did.

“LOOK, THAT WINDOW'S OPEN. SOMEONE
must be here.”

The voice was practically in my ear and I sat bolt upright. Where was I? Oh. Right. In a cemetery. Only now it was saturated with sunlight, and my bedroom was 890 degrees. Give or take a hundred.

“Wouldn't you think they'd have signs telling you where to go?” It was a woman's voice, her accent as tangy as barbeque sauce.

A man answered. “Gloria, this looks like a private residence. I don't think we should be poking around—”

“Yoo-hoo! Hello? Anyone home?”

I pushed off my covers and got out of bed, tripping over a smattering of decorative pillows. I was still fully dressed. I'd been so tired that pajamas hadn't even crossed my mind.

“Hell-ooo,” the woman trilled again. “Anyone there?”

I gathered my hair into a bun so I wouldn't scare anyone, then went over to the window to see two people who matched their voices
exactly
. The woman had fire-engine-red hair and wore high-waisted shorts, and the man wore a fishing hat and had a massive camera around his neck. They were even wearing fanny packs. I stifled a giggle. Addie and I had once won a costume contest dressed as Tacky Tourists. These two could have been our inspiration.

“Hell-o,” Real-Life Tacky Tourist said slowly. She pointed at me. “Do you speak-a the English?”

“I'm American too.”

“Thank the heavens! We were just looking for Howard Mercer, the superintendent? Where can we find him?”

“I don't know. I'm . . . new here.” The view caught my eye and I looked up. The trees outside my window were a rich, velvety green and the sky was maybe bluer than I'd ever seen. But I was still in a cemetery. I repeat: Still. In. A. Cemetery.

Tacky Tourist looked at the man, then back up at me, settling her weight into one hip like
You can't get rid of me that easily
.

“I'll check to see if he's in the house.”

“Now you're talking,” she said. “We'll be around front.”

I unzipped my suitcase and changed into a tank top and running shorts, then found my shoes and headed downstairs. The main floor was pretty small and, besides Howard's bedroom, the only room I hadn't seen yet was the study. I knocked just in case, then pushed my way inside. The walls were lined with framed Beatles albums and photographs, and I stopped to look at a picture of Howard and a few other people throwing buckets of water on a huge, gorgeous elephant. Howard was wearing cargo pants and a safari hat and looked like the star of some kind of adventure nature show.
Howard Bathes Wild Animals.
He obviously hadn't spent the past sixteen years sitting around missing my mom and me.

“Sorry, Tacky Tourists. No sign of Howard.” I headed for the front, all ready to tell The Tackys I couldn't help them, but when I walked into the living room I jumped like I'd stepped on a live wire. The woman was not only waiting for me out front, but she'd pressed her face up against the window and was peering in at me like an enormous bug.

Over here. Over here!
she mouthed, pointing to the front door.

“You've got to be joking me.” I put my hand to my chest. My heart was going like a million beats per minute. You'd think life in a cemetery would be a lot more . . . dead.
Ba dum tss!
My first official cemetery joke. And first official eye rolling at own cemetery joke.

I pushed the door open and the woman trundled back a couple of inches.

“Sorry, darling. Did I startle you? You looked like your eyes were going to bug out of your head.” She was wearing one of those stick-on name tags.
HELLO, MY NAME IS GLORIA
.

“I didn't expect you to be . . . looking in.” I shook my head. “I'm sorry, but Howard's not here. He said something about having an office; maybe you could go look for him there?”

Gloria nodded. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, here's the problem, doll. We only have three hours before the tour bus comes back for us, and we want to be sure we see everything. I just don't think we have the time to be traipsing all over looking for Mr. Mercer.”

“Did you see the visitors' center? There's a woman who works there who might know where he is.”

“I told you we should try that,” the man said. “This is a
home.”

“Which one's the visitors' center?” Gloria asked. “Was it that building near the entrance?”

“I'm sorry, I really don't know.” Probably because the night before I'd been way too panicked to notice anything but the army of headstones staring me down.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I hate to inconvenience you,
darlin'
, but I'm sure you know this place better than a couple of tourists from Alabama.”

“Actually, I don't.”

“What?”

I sighed, casting one more hopeful glance back into the house, but it was as quiet as a tomb. (
Ack!
Second cemetery joke.) Guess I was going to have to jump headfirst into this whole living-in-a-memorial thing. I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me. “I don't really know my way around, but I'll try to help.”

Gloria smiled beatifically. “Grah-zee-aye.”

I walked down the stairs, the two of them following after me.

“They sure do keep this place up nice,” Gloria observed. “Real nice.”

She was right. The lawns were so green they looked spray-painted, and practically every corner had a grouping of Italian and American flags surrounded by patches of
Wizard of Oz
–worthy flowers. The headstones were white and sparkly and didn't look nearly as creepy in the daylight. But don't get me wrong. They were still creepy.

“Let's go this way.” I marched toward the road Howard and I had driven in on.

Gloria nudged me with her elbow. “My husband and I met on a cruise.”

Oh, no.
Was she going to tell me their life story? I slid a quick glance at Gloria and she smiled engagingly. Of course she was.