“Cute.”
He combs lazy fingers through his hair, smirking. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Modest, too!”
“Usually, more than this. I’m George.” He sticks out his hand. “George Gallo.”
I don’t shake it. “Ada,” I add robotically, blinking up at him.
He says his name like it should mean something. I study him again from head to toe.Gallo. Why do I feel as if I’ve met this guy before? He’s tall and well-dressed.Gallo. Have I seen him around the university? He’s clutching an old notebook. Neat block capitals on the front sayRecipe Ideas.
“Gallo?” I say. “Like…the chef?”
“Ah…” This question makes him uncomfortable. His head bows. “That’s my dad.”
“Oh.”
Luke Gallo isn’t just a celebrity. He’s an institution. Everyone in Melbourne knows him and his restaurant. You have to book months in advance just to sniff a table. Some of my girlfriends say “would” about Luke, even though he must be pushing sixty, like my dad, by now.
My eyebrows pinch together. “Is your…dad…a fan of my mum’s?” I ask. Otherwise, why is George here? I’m so confused.
“You might say that.”
He opens the notebook and flips past what looks like scrawled ingredients and recipes to stop at a dog-eared page. He holds it out. Oh, he wants me to read it? I lean over.
Dear Elsie, I learned your name today…
I stare cluelessly up at George. He simply smiles and passes me the notebook.
I flip through the pages. “Are you suggesting… My mum hooked up with your dad?”
“I am.”
“Like a summer fling…or…?”
Dear Elsie, I remember the first time we made love…
I snap the book shut. “Shit! Trigger warning!” I don’t need any of those details.
George laughs. “Thankfully, he doesn’t go into too much detail. Until a couple of months ago, I never knew…” He shakes his head as he looks out over the ocean. “I mean, I knewofa woman.”
“How would you know?” This is not the type of thing I talk about with my parents!
“After my parents divorced, I’d find Dad out on the back deck sometimes. He’d be sipping wine and smiling at nothing, and he’d say, ‘George, if you find a gorgeous woman with a pert little mouth, just marry her.’”
Pert little mouth, indeed! “My mum’s anangel!”I huff.
“I never knew he meanther. She’s like…my idol. Her thesis on the contrast between the industrialization of England and Australia’s gold rush was so clever and so insightful…” George sighs. “And then, there’s my dad. He’s something else entirely. A force to be reckoned with. A woman inspiring him to write love letters? It gave me—I dunno—hope.”
I snort. “Like you have any trouble finding a woman.”
“You’d be surprised.” He sighs. “How do I find someone who just seesmeand nothim? Our world is so transactional. It’s nothing but status and influence. There’s no substance. I want arealconnection.” He flashes me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Once I get started…”
“No, it’s… God, that’s so true.”
“I’m not like him. People think I am. I’m more like her…” He nods in Mum’s direction. “I’m studying history. I was even before I stumbled on theDear Elsieletters.”
I roll my eyes. “You history nerds are everywhere.”
