“Which is why you should live with us.” She exhaled. “Don’t worry. You just leave Grandma Rachelle to me. I’ll take her out to buy some of those butterscotch candies all old people love, and we’ll talk about why the Bennett house is your best option.”
“Thanks, Addie.” We both stopped talking, and the sound of insects and Howard’s music filled the brief silence between us. I wanted to crawl right through the phone back to Seattle. How was I going to survive without Addie?
“Why are you being so quiet? Is Gravedigger there?”
“I’m in my bedroom, but I get the feeling that sound travels in this house. I don’t know if he can hear me or not.”
“Great. So you can’t even speak freely. We’d better come up with a code word so I know if you’re okay. Say ‘bluebird’ if you’re being held hostage.”
“?‘Bluebird’? Isn’t it supposed to be a word that doesn’t sound out of the ordinary?”
“Crap. Now I’m confused. You said the word, but I don’t know if you meant it. Are you or are you not being held hostage?”
“No, Addie. I’m not being held hostage.” I sighed. “Except maybe to the promise I made to my mom.”
“Yeah, but do promises really count if you make them under false pretenses? No offense, but your mom wasn’t exactly forthcoming about why she wanted you to go to Italy.”
“I know.” I breathed out. “I’m hoping there was some reason for that.”
“Maybe.”
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.