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Bobby is undeterred. “This is our starter place. We’ll get a house someday. We just need to save up some more money.”

“But the interest rates are good now. I checked online, and Belmar has some affordable homes.”

“I want our children to go to Saint Rose School like we did. I like a low rent and shoring up our savings,” Bobby said firmly. “It worked for my parents, and it’ll work for us.”

“But our money will grow if we invest in a house instead of renting.”

“We have a money market.” Bobby sighed. “This is a quick commute to the butcher shop. I could bike to and from work. Save on gas. Leave the car for your needs.”

I bit my lip. It was true. I could use his car.

“Okay.” I gave up because there was no point in fighting. Bobby was on track to run the butcher shop while I remained Uncle Louie’s draftsman and assistant. There was no comparison between our salaries. But I couldn’t help but think this wasn’t just about the commute. Bobby wanted to be close to his parents—close likeacross the street.

Bobby opened the door to the en suite bathroom. A gargantuan walk-in shower with sliding glass doors and all the wall-attached Swedish gizmos took up half of the space. There was a double sink, and the toilet was behind a glass brick wall.

“How about that shower?” Bobby said proudly.

“There’s no tub.”

“Soaking in a tub is a waste of time.” Bobby could see that I was disappointed. “You want a tub?” he asked, hoping the answer was no.

“I love to soak in a tub.”

“Since when?” His tone turned impatient, and I felt myself backpedaling.

“I don’t know. Just an idea.” I wanted him to be happy, even if it meant I didn’t get a bathtub. “The shower is fine.”

“The shower is state-of-the-art. It’s more than fine. It’s brand-new. You’ll love it!” Bobby went inside the walk-in and fiddled with the showerhead. “The floor heats. Look. You just hit it on this panel over here.”

“Fabulous.” I forced a smile. The bathroom might be the newest room, but it had the least personality in an apartment that had none.

“Then we take it?” Bobby asked eagerly. “The Bilancias move in?”

“The Bilancias move in.”

Bobby kissed me. This apartment would be our first home. Did it really matter where we were as long as my husband was happy? I figured I could make anything warm and cozy, and if I couldn’t, we could always sleep on the shower floor.

12

The View from Maria Beatrice’s Head

I step out ofthe bathtub of my dreams and wrap a towel around myself.

I open the closet door. The new clothes I brought to Italy include every color but black, subconscious proof I want a new start, out of the basement and into the light! As I dress, I remember when Uncle Louie and I listened toWaldenon audio. Thoreau wrote, “Beware all enterprises that require new clothes.” Uncle Louie thought Thoreau was a little harsh (“Who doesn’t like a snazzy new outfit?” he said at the time), but I thought there was wisdom in it. I packed nothing but new clothes, so I plan to embrace every single enterprise that requires them, starting with my first Italian dinner with Conor. After all, a new start means everything should be new, not just my attitude.

I walk up to Conor, who is in conversation with Angelo on the piazza.

“You don’t look like the woman I dropped off here an hour ago,”Conor says while Signora Strazza’s son looks at me, his expression softening a bit.

“I had to get the stink of free first class off me.”

“New jacket?” Conor asks.

“How could you tell?”

Conor grabs the sales tag attached to the back of my sleeve and gives it a yank. He hands the tag to me; I slip it into my pocket. I have no fashionable allure. Now Conor knows I live for a discount.

I put out my hand to officially introduce myself to Angelo.