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“Do you want one?”

“Can you soak in the sink?” he jokes.

“No.” I laugh.

“So, make a space. You’re the architect.”

When Uncle Louie was alive, I drew the designs per his orders and the customer’s specifications. But I never thought about what I wanted, afraid of my own ideas somehow, or fearful that someone else might not approve of my vision. But now I can do whatever Iwant. The only difference between a draftsman and an architect is self-confidence.

“You’re right, Angelo. A big marble bathtub, right here, under the window.” I point to the open walls under the cross timbers.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says, and takes me in his arms. Evidently, there is nothing more alluring to a man than a woman who can design her own house. Angelo kisses my neck, my cheek, and my lips. His soft kiss is permanent; it feels like gold gilded on the smoothest marble.

Angelo whispers in my ear. “Build what you want. What you need.”

“My home needs you.”

“And so, you’ll have him,” Angelo promises. “E la tua vasca da bagno.”

We hear the blast of the horn on the van. I stick my head out of the bedroom window.

“Your professor friend is going to do the tour and we can’t keep her waiting.” Dad looks down at his phone. “Farah Adeel?”

“She is my friend. We’ll be right down.”

I pull on my jacket and slip into my hiking boots. I stuff my phone into my pocket and follow Angelo down the stairs. Smokey is curled up in the sun by the window, asleep. I close the front door on the Montini farmhouse.

Angelo and I pile into the van. They make room for us. Angelo pulls Rafferty onto his lap. Mackenzie climbs onto mine. We strap in.

I want to be with my family when they see Uncle Louie’s quarry for the first time. I want to show them Michelangelo’s marble. After all, that’s where our story began.

Epilogue

Dear Dr. Sharon, Raymond, Mohammed, Pamela, Rhoda, Cynthia, Albert, Elaine, Jean, Nora, Veronica, Rex, Scott, and Darlene,

This letter is to thank the team at Thera-Me for setting me on the path of enlightenment. I would never have tried therapy had it not been for all of you. But, session by session, you guided me forward. I learned to challenge my assumptions, pay attention to the world around me, react, and make changes when necessary. At first, the idea of switching therapists as I advanced through the program was daunting, but soon I was in the rhythm, and each of you brought something different to the process, which taught me to be flexible.

I have learned how to live. I sleep with the doors open, and the church bells wake me with the sun as it rises. A walk after dinner keeps me in shape better than an hour-long workout in a gym. Spaghetti doesn’t make me fat and sponge cake with mascarpone cream doesn’t either. Sleep is a better cure than any pill. Knowing what you want can only come from knowingyourself. Sit in an empty church on any day but Sunday and let the angels guide your prayers. Let go of everything that has ever scared you. Break the grip of fear with confidence. Happiness is not something that you can make happen; it arrives unannounced. It is not scary to get older; it’s only scary to be unloved. To find love, to hold it and to grow it, be kind. First to yourself and then to every person you know. Life works out. Don’t fear living or fear death; it’s all part of the story. Old is good. Very old is art. What survives, sustains.

I am sure that as I go on in life, I will refer back to our exercises. You turned me into a person who understands the importance of journaling—thank you all. I don’t know where you are in the world, but somehow, you managed to get through to me. The person who takes the worst that happens to her and builds upon it will be fearless. In the absence of fear is nothing but love.

For your contribution to my sanity, I am awarding you five stars over at the App Store. Thank you!

G.C.B., Carrara, Italy