“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve never had to think that way.”
“Well, start thinking that way, Lora. Because look around you. Alone is the last thing you are. Whether you want to believe it or not.”
Chapter 16
RESEARCH NOTES
Previous literature suggests that Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs may provide a model of childhood development. The idea of establishing a child’s basic needs before leading them through more complex socioemotional interactions is valid. However, it is impossible to suggest that all children would be able to have these basic needs met before their life experiences demand more complex processing of socioenvironmental or intrafamilial interactions. Therefore, this research will attempt to dismantle rigid assumptions about what children are capable of behaviorally and emotionally.
“Seventeen DMS? Was that this month?”
“That was this week,” said Nico, pushing down on the window handle one last time to be sure that it was rolleddown as much as possible. There were, of course, no power windows in the Panda.
“What do you do when you get them?” asked Andrea. “Sorry it’s so hot in here.” He tapped the handle on his own window, as though allowing more hot air to blow into the car would be a benefit. When they were bouncing along the dirt road on the way to Silver Sea Ranch, they’d had the shade of the pines. Now that they were getting closer to the beach, sunlight flooded the little car, turning it into a rolling pot stove.
“Eh, who cares? These old Pandinas are the best. Too bad I’m gonna sweat more here than during a tennis lesson,” he said, laughing. “What do I do? First I see if I can figure out who it is. Sometimes I can’t tell. It could be a tennis club member, someone who came there for vacation, or someone random who saw me on a video somewhere. My first rule is, no one from the club. That would be bad.”
“I can imagine. Plus, I’m sure half of them are married.”
“No married women,” Nico declared, raising an index finger. “No married, no engaged, no one who dated any of my friends or the other instructors in the area.”
“So, we’re really narrowing down the field here.” Andrea rolled the car to a stop to engage the 4x4 and took off again, the rugged tires powering up a short, steep hill.
“Right! That’s what I’m saying. It doesn’t matter how many messages I start with; I always end up with only one or two possibilities. Wait, they also can’t live so far away I’m spending hours driving, they have to speak a language I speak, they can’t be more than ten years younger—”
“Or ten years older?” Andrea cut in.
“Nah. I don’t have an upper limit. Older women know things, you know? It’s always a good time. But for the most part, it’s going to be just a couple of women, and none of those have ended up being more than a date or two.”
“Did you ever consider trying to meet women who don’t DM you first? Maybe that’s a whole category of untapped potential.”
“I’m telling you. I’ve tried everything,” said Nico, grabbing onto the door handle as they jostled around. “There’s only one woman I can’t stop thinking about. It’s so weird.”
“Weird because you can’t stop thinking about her, or because there’s only one of them?”
“Sure, make fun. I bet it’s the same for you. You can’t tell me you don’t get women throwing themselves at you. It’s that authority-figure thing, right? Women are into that.”
“I get DMs telling me that there’s a streetlight out or the beach bar was playing music too loud after midnight,” Andrea said, shifting into a lower gear.
“I think I’d prefer that at this point.”
“No problem, you want my job? You too can be tasked with going to check out abandoned properties that no one has entered in decades.” Andrea could see the main gate up ahead—or at least what was left of it.
“Do you really think someone is going to buy this? And how is it not a pile of splinters after all the storms we’ve had?”
“I don’t know the answer to either of those questions, but I think we’re about to find out.” Andrea rolled past the double gate that had only one side still attached to its post. He kept driving forward to one of the main buildings that looked like a cross between a house and a garage and finallystopped in front of the remnants of a porch. He yanked up the parking brake, and they both got out of the Panda, trying to take it all in. To the left stood a giant barn with some of the wooden shutters of the horse stalls still intact. Beyond that was the white, gravel-lined circle that would have been a paddock when there was still fencing. There were numerous outbuildings, sheds, and barns, but not one of them was without some kind of damage.
“It looks like it was bombed,” said Nico. “I know where you can get a bowl of spaghetti with clams that would be worth more than this.”
“You never know,” said Andrea, making his way toward the larger barn. “Maybe it doesn’t need much more than some cosmetic work if the structure is good.”
“The structure looks good to set on fire and start over again.”
“Can I help you?”
Andrea whipped around, hearing a gravelly voice from behind one of the smaller sheds. An older man who looked to be in that indeterminate age range between seventy-something and ninety-something emerged smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. He wore denim overalls and a straw hat, a faded red bandana around his neck. If Andrea didn’t know any better, he would swear that this man had fallen right out of a western film. And he had absolutely no idea who he was.
“I’m Andrea Garibaldi, mayor of Baia Santa. This is my associate Nico Raggi. May I ask who you are, sir? It is my understanding that the former owner, Ivo Giordano, is deceased, and this property now falls under the care of the town.”
