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Threading his fingers through my hair, he tugs on the strands to tilt my head back. I stare up at him, recognizing the war that wages in his eyes. The cause is unclear, but he doesn’t give me time to ponder it. He swoops down and plants a kiss on my forehead. The tenderness of the gesture catches me off guard, but before I can find my bearings, he’s already walking through the door.
A moment later, the front door slams. The key scrapes in the lock. The engine of his car roars to life. He takes off with screeching tires, driving too fast. I listen to the sound of his car until it fades into nothingness and only silence is left.
It takes me a long time to gather myself and to honor the promise I made this morning. I get up and walk on autopilot to the door. After pulling on my coat and scarf, I leave via the back, lock up, and head to the village.
Mrs. Paoli opens the door dressed in the same pink terrycloth robe and slippers from yesterday. Diva sits at her feet, wagging her tail. Today, she doesn’t bark at me.
“There you are,” Mrs. Paoli says, sniffing as she hands me the leash. “Diva has been waiting in front of the door all morning. Animals are so clever. She knew you’d come back.”
“How are you feeling?”
“A little better, but the flu is strong this year. It knocked poor Mr. Martin down for two weeks. By the way, my friend, Corinne, fell and broke her hip again. Will you be able to help her out with grocery shopping? I mentioned that you’re looking for the odd job when I spoke to her on the phone, and she said the help would be welcome.”
“Sure,” I say, crouching down to pet Diva and fit her leash. “Where does she live?”
“In the house at the end of the street—the one with the red shutters. You can’t miss it.”
I straighten. “Would you like me to get you anything from the shop while I’m there?”
She scratches her head. “Tomatoes. Half a dozen. They’re high in Vitamin C.”
“Oh, talking about vitamins, did you remember to take yours?”
She clicks her tongue. “That old hag, Mrs. Campana, put you up to asking, didn’t she?”
“She’s just looking out for your health,” I reply with a smile.
She lifts her chin. “Well, if you see her, you can tell her I took my vitamins, thank you very much.”
I wave as I lead Diva outside. “See you later.”
“Wait.” She hurries down the hallway and returns with a ten-euro bill. “For the tomatoes. Don’t get the round ones. Get the elongated ones. They last longer. Oh, and I forgot to ask your number so that I can call you if Diva is sick or not up for her walk. You never know.”
My neck heats under my scarf. “Um, I don’t have a phone.” When she gives me a baffled look, I add quickly, “Not yet.”
“Don’t worry about it then.” She pats my shoulder. “We’ll just play it by ear.”
Before she can ask more questions, I leave with Diva. We pass a few people on the pavement whom I greet. They return the greeting politely and turn their heads to stare after me.
At the end of the street, I knock on the door of the house with the red shutters. An elderly lady with raven-black hair knotted in a bun on her head opens the door. She’s leaning on a walking frame.
Taking one look at Diva, she says, “You must be the dog walker Antionette mentioned.”
“Sabella,” I say, shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Mrs. Filippi, but you can call me Corinne.”
“Mrs. Paoli said you’d like me to pick up groceries for you?”
She points at a caddy in the entrance. “The list and the money are inside. And don’t take the overripe bananas. Make sure they’re green. Mr. Luciani always tries to get rid of his brown bananas. He’ll slip them into the bag if you don’t pay attention.”
“I’ll do that,” I say, taking the caddy. “See you later.”
“If Mr. Luciani asks, tell him I’m doing great,” she calls after me. “Just a little pain. Nothing serious.”
Diva pulls on the leash, eager to continue her walk. We stop at the pharmacy to say hello to Mrs. Campana, who says the cake tasted better than it looked. Unfortunately, her husband ate most of it, and now his cholesterol is sky-high again. I apologize for her husband’s cholesterol and continue on my way when a customer comes in.
Our next stop is the greengrocer on the square. The man gives me a strange look, but he takes Corinne’s list and helps me to gather the items from the shelves. When he takes a bunch of brown bananas from a crate, I say, “Corinne prefers the green ones.”
