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I laughed, remembering our crash in the hallway.
Laughing, I covered my teeth—a habit I’d carried since childhood, thanks to Jessie’s constant badgering me about having “squirrel teeth” as a kid. I’d grown into my smile over the years but had never quite outgrown the sensitivity about it.
“Grazie!” Matteo said, placing the lettuce wrap in front of me, then reaching for my hand and pulling it toward him to examine the magnolia tattoo on the back. “What a beautiful work of art!”
“Thank you,” I smiled, my hand still cradled in his. “I got it for my grandmother when she passed away. She lived in Georgia, and I loved going to visit her—especially when the magnolia trees were in bloom. It’s one of my favorite memories!”
“Molto bello!” he exclaimed. “It’s a beautiful tattoo and a beautiful sentiment behind it. Grandparents are a gift to us, are they not? My grandfather Guiseppe was a chef, as well! I learned many things from him!”
Just then, there was a loud bang in the kitchen.
“Matteo!” one of the kitchen girls called out. “The shelf fell again!”
“Mannaggia, these cooler shelves!” Matteo said, grabbing his hair in his hands. “I will catch you later, veloce!”
He turned, running toward the kitchen, and I slid off the bar stool and carried my plate to my room. I sat on my bed, giggling like a schoolgirl at our interaction. I turned the television on and flipped channels until I landed on some trash TV court show. I sank into my bed pillows and ate the wrap. It was the most deliciously simple treat I’d ever tasted.
Almost as delicious as the man who’d made it.
Chapter 4
At dinner, I wasn’t surprised to find Jessie waiting for me at the top of the stairs, standing in the entrance to the dining area looking like a lost puppy. This was par for the course with her. We’d fight, she’d get angry with me, and then she’d come around wanting me to forget everything that had happened and resume our friendship as if we had never faced any issues to begin with.
“Hey, Jess,” I said, acknowledging her.
“Heather,” she said, reaching a thin arm across the threshold to block me. Her blue eyes pierced into me like a falcon awaiting a baby rabbit to poke its head from a burrow. “Why are you avoiding me?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Had she forgotten the huge argument we’d had earlier? She’d always had a short memory when it came to these things, but to not even make it a day was truly remarkable—even for her.
“You know why I’m not talking to you,” I said. “I’m not going to rehash it. You need to learn to accept my boundaries.”
“Your boundaries?” Jessie asked, almost scoffing. “What is this Dr. Phil stuff you’re trying to pull off now? We argued, but we always do. You’re my best friend. You don’t have to be this way.”
I realized there was no point in trying to talk to her. She would never really understand what I was feeling or going through and certainly would never understand why Lissa’s feelings had any sort of priority, either. She seemed fully committed to the cause of only ever really feeling sorry for herself.
I fell back on a tried and true habit of making an excuse.
“You’re right,” I said. “I guess I’ve just been feeling a little seasick. I’m sure it will get better in a day or two. I’ve been resting.”
“Well, you can’t just shut me out, Heather!” she said, turning to follow me to a table. “You know we have been friends longer than anyone else in the group. When they’re all mad at me, and you aren’t hanging out with me, how do you think that looks! They’re looking down on me and assuming you’re mad at me, too!”
“I don’t think any of them are even paying attention to whether or not me and you are spending any time together,” I said. “They all are busy doing their own things and chasing down guys. You know how these trips go. We always plan them as a group and say we’re going to spend time together, but then the game keeps us from ever actually doing that. They have no idea whether or not you and I have been hanging out today.”
Jessie wrinkled her nose up in disapproval. “Well, the whole point of the game is to have friendly competition. You started it, remember? When we went to Paris all those years ago. Me and you made that bet, and you wound up paying for the whole trip. It was your idea. If you don’t like it, then stop playing it.”
“I think I will,” I said. “I’ve actually been thinking for a long time that I didn’t want to play the game anymore. It’s been something I’ve been wrestling with for the last few trips.”
“Well, you can’t pull out now unless you plan to pay for everyone!” Jessie teased.
She was right. I couldn’t. I knew the rules.
“I know,” I said. “But this can be the last time I play. I don’t think I’ll even come on any more of these trips. I’ve kind of outgrown them, to be honest.”
Jessie looked hurt. She stared at me for a moment, then turned her head to stare out at the open water. For one of the few times in Jessie’s life that I’d been able to witness, she was actually speechless. I even thought there might be a few tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“You can’t just say stuff like that, Heather,” she said, quietly. Hurt. “You’re my best friend, and you’re supposed to want to do things with me that are fun. You’re supposed to look forward to our time together and actually want to be with me when we are doing things like this. You’ve been hiding in your room avoiding me, and everyone else is mad at me, too. I’m all alone. This trip just started, and already it sucks.”
And there it was. The guilt trip.
