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“No, I did not.”

“It took time?” he suggests.

“Yes. It was a process.”

“Ah. Are you the only person who ever loved that is entitled to a process?”

I don’t answer. Dr. Veronica taught me that one should never answer a question for which there is no answer.

He goes on. “I was offered a job in Milan. An excellent position. It’s not easy with Dalia. She wants a commitment, but it means I can’t take the position. The truth is, I’d be gone already except for Mamma. I feel guilty leaving her so soon after my father died.”

“If you wait for the right moment to start your life, it never comes.” I bury my hands in my pockets as we walk.

We don’t talk much. We walk, down the side streets and past the academy, but the fresh air feels good, and I’m glad to work off the spaghetti with peas and cream. Soon, we cross the piazza to the house. Angelo holds the gate open for me.

“Thank you for the company.” I skitter away to avoid anyphysical contact with Angelo. I’m climbing the steps two at a time to the landing when he calls out to me.

“I’m not what you think I am,” Angelo says.

“None of us are,” I tell him, and I keep climbing. Once I arrive back inside the apartment, I take my phone out onto the balcony. I put my feet up and write.

Mom was waitingfor me when I came in the front door. I didn’t bother with the basement entrance because I’d only have to climb the stairs when Mom called me for a debrief of my evening. This had been our routine since I was a kid. She’d make popcorn after a party or a night out with my friends. We’d sit at the kitchen table, and I would spill my guts and tell her everything I knew: who snuck a fifth of gin into the prom, who smoked a joint in the locker room, and which couples were having sex and bragged about it. Mom was a good listener; that came with the territory of being a blowfish. All that information I fed her expanded her database, and the rest she sucked up from the streets of Lake Como on her own.

“I put coffee on.” Mom smiled. She wore her robe, but she still had on her makeup and good gold hoop earrings. This only meant one thing.

“You had Sodality?” I asked her.

“What do you think?” Mom placed the sugar and creamer on the kitchen table. “Tootie Filingo was voted president.”

“What about you?”

“Recording secretary. I got what I deserve. The worst job inthe club. That’s what I get for ditching my hours at thepizze frittestand at the Feast. You pay for everything in this life.”

“Did you at least score some cookies at the meeting?”

“I made a plate.” Mom placed the cookies at the center of the table. “You don’t want to miss Andreana Comensky’s seven layers.”

“Hit me.” I pulled the tinfoil tent off the paper plate. The scents of chocolate, peanuts, caramel, and coconut made my mouth water. Mom served us each a cup of coffee.

I placed my hands on my mother’s. She scheduled her manicures with her Sodality meetings at the church. Her hands were soft; the French tip manicure was pristine, white stripes on pink nails. The small diamond my father gave her when they were engaged was joined by her grandmother’s when she died. Mom wore a new ring made of two round diamonds set together like owl eyes.

“When I die, you split up the ring. One diamond for you, one for Connie. Fifty-fifty. No fighting.”

“Ma, leave the ring to Connie. We’re not going to bust up your jewelry after you die.”

“But this is my best piece! The rest of it is just so-so.” Mom’s eyebrows knitted together in one black line like a dropped stitch when she crocheted. “I want everything to be fair. I don’t play favorites as a mother. You’re all equal in my heart.”

“I love you, Ma.”

“I know.”

“You’re crazy, but I love you.”

“Why do you say things like that, Giuseppina? I’m not crazy. I’m a passionate individual who does the best she can.”

“You worked hard. Dad started at the bottom every time he moved insurance agencies, so you had to take all those crappyside jobs to give us the extras. You bought our prom gowns and saved up for a car for Joe, which he refused to loan to Connie and me.”

“He needed the car once he was in law school. But we didn’t favor him. The car was a necessity. That’s why I want to split the diamond ring. My daughters deserve something special too. We sacrificed plenty, but there’s no need for you to continue the family tradition of sacrifice. And I’m not leaving the good diamonds to Katie. She came into this family fully loaded. Her great aunt worked at Tiffany, don’t forget.”