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“I want everybody to find their bliss.” I open my arms wide, like the statue of Jesus of the Sacred Heart in Cousin Carmine’s backyard.

“We did,” Lisa says quietly. “But what about you?”

“I want to be like that lemon slice you put in the sambuca. I want there to be nothing left of me at the end of my life except a peel, because I’ve squeezed everything I am into a life that mattered.”

“Oh God. Are you becoming a nun?” my mother shrieks. “Joe, she’s contemplating becoming a religious! We must stop her.”

“I don’t think that’s an option.” Dad winks at me.

“What are you going to do?” Lisa asks.

“Everything. I have so much more to see. I want to see Puglia, Sicily, Capri, and Sorrento. The Adriatic. I want to go to Montenegro. The Blue Danube. Greece.”

“You want to be a travel agent?” Bobby asks.

“No, Bobby. I don’t.”

We laugh. Lisa and I look at each other in the way we did whenever Bobby said something dumb in school. The three of us. Three kids who have known each other since we were five, and one of us remains perpetually slow on the uptake, who just happens to be a man.

“I want to build things,” I tell them. “And I will.”

“I’m a travel agent,” Marina says loudly. Her mother pushes her forward to address the crowd.

The room turns in her direction. This is a young woman who in forty-five years has barely ever spoken above a whisper. Marina finding her voice is somehow perceived as more shocking than my ex-husband and best friend getting together.

“She works for American Express,” Carmel adds loudly.

“I think everyone knows, Carm. Why don’t you just put it in the church bulletin already?” Mom says on her way to the living room as she takes Mauro by the arm.

“She should,” Patti speaks up. “It would be good for biz-wiz.”

“I think you meanbusiness, Patti?” I clarify.

Carmel calls after my mother. “Philly, people travel somewhere every day. Maybe they could use the concierge service. When you’re in a people business, you let people know. That’s all I’m doing.”

“I can get you deals,” Marina announces. “I know where the bargains are.”

“Italy?” Patti barks.

“Yes. And in addition I have wonderful travel opportunities tomany countries around the world. I can get you a good deal on a cruise.”

The room explodes with excitement. News of a discount cruise in Lake Como, New Jersey, is bigger than any scandal. The light in the room seems to change as the patter escalates. The bartender mixes the gin in the gold cocktail shaker. The world goes on around us, with Mauro, Angelo, Gaetano, and Conor folding into the din; only Bobby, Lisa, and I remain as we once were.

Bobby and Lisa look at each other.

“This is how the story was supposed to go,” I assure them as I let them go.

I stand back, inhale slowly, and let go of the fear and anxiety I once held so tightly because, at the time, I believed if I didn’t hold on I would lose everything. But my heart doesn’t thump and my throat doesn’t close. I breathe.

Bobby puts his arms around Lisa, who could not be more thrilled to be his. The guests congratulate them on their new relationship.

I made Bobby’s life my project and my purpose. Now Lisa can have the job if she wants it. There is value in growing up with a man you knew as a child, because you knew him before he was locked into the idea of what it means to be a man. I’ve learned that a boy can be as vulnerable and fragile as any girl.

Lisa and Bobby will live together in Bilancia Land after a High Mass at Saint Catharine’s and a wedding reception at Mallard Island Yacht Club in Manahawkin. One of the guests will break a tooth on the Jordan almonds in the confetti bags, but it will be considered a lucky sign for the couple. No one will remember that Bobby and I were once married. Our marriage will become the Molly Pitcher Service Area on the Jersey Turnpike, a nice comfort stop on a long drive, but not the destination itself. Life in Lake Como will go on.

Bobby Bilancia Breathe.

Bobby BilanciaRelease.