Page 28 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)

Chapter Seventeen

He sent me a picture of him in the lobby, and I don’t ask questions, I just throw on my coat over my pajamas and tiptoe out the door. It’s March but the night air makes it feel like winter.

He scoops me into his arms and kisses me, and it feels so perfect I wonder what selfless deeds I performed in a previous life that earned me this reward. I probably saved an orphanage from a fire. Or told a young Taylor Swift that she should consider a career in music.

I kiss him for a long time and when he starts to tell me something, I shake my head and keep kissing him. He laughs, and I finally pull away.

“Are you interested in a night picnic?” he asks.

He’s got a backpack, and his eyes are sparkling as bright as the moon.

“Yes, I am,” I say.

We walk to a little park nearby, holding hands, not talking much.

My brain is still trying to wake up. Tall pine trees surround an open, grassy space and Jake leads us right to the center.

He pulls a blanket, two bottles of orange-flavored San Pellegrino, and a pastry box full of sweets from his backpack. He’s humming the whole time.

“Are we celebrating something I don’t know about?” I scramble to think of the date. Oh no. We’re not a cheesy couple that celebrates our sixth month anniversary are we?

“Do you want to hear some good news?” he asks.

“Always,” I say.

“Even if it’s braggy?”

I gasp. “You got into medical school!”

“I got into medical school!” His smile goes wide, and his dimples deepen.

I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Of course you did. Because you are the smartest and best-looking guy they’ve ever seen.” I give him a good long kiss. “Tell me everything!”

“I got waitlisted at Harvard and accepted at Columbia and Johns Hopkins.”

“That’s amazing! How do you feel?”

“Relieved! Harvard is flattering, but in the end useless. Unless a bunch of people who got into Harvard decided they don’t want to go- which feels unlikely- I’m not getting off that waitlist. So it’s Columbia or Johns Hopkins.”

“Which direction are you leaning?”

“I’m not sure. I loved doing my undergrad at Johns Hopkins. I definitely wouldn't mind going back there. But the research they’re doing at Columbia is super interesting.”

We spend another hour weighing the pros and cons of each school and talking about what Jake’s life will be like as a med student.

His face is glowing with happiness. We eat yummy pastries and make ridiculous and long-winded toasts with our San Pellegrino.

We giggle and kiss. We try to point out the constellations, but we don’t know any of them and instead we make up funny names and stories for the glittering dots in the sky.

Everything seems funnier when it’s dark and you’re outside on a blanket.

“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow,” I tell Jake as we kiss by the elevator.

“Worth it,” he says. And kisses me again.

* * *

I think about Jake while I take Isa to school the next day. He looked so happy last night. And I feel happy for him. But there’s something slinking around my belly that feels a lot like envy.

I shake it off. Jake’s worked hard for this. He deserves it.

When I get back from school drop off, I call my mom. It’s late there, but I know she’ll be excited to hear Jake’s news.

“Oh! Juls! How are you?” Her voice sounds funny.

“Jake got into medical school! He’s going to Columbia or Johns Hopkins!”

“Wow!” she says. “That’s very exciting for him.”

“Yep. He’s super happy.”

I take out some nail polish and start painting my toes. A nice bright pink for spring.

“Hey is Dad there? Isa ‘accidentally’ spilled red wine all over Sofia’s silk blouse. I’m hoping he has some ideas for getting it out.”

There’s a pause.

“Dad’s not here,” my mom says.

“Where is he?” The shop closed hours ago, and my dad has no life outside of work.

Another pause.

“He’s actually in the hospital.”

My mom does this terrible thing where she shares bad news in her most cheerful voice. She thinks it makes it better, but it doesn’t. All the muscles in my stomach clench, and I carefully screw the lid back on the nail polish bottle.

“Juliet, are you there?”

“What happened?” Was it a heart attack? My grandpa died of a heart attack. Of course he weighed 300 pounds, and my dad barely tops 175. My mind is racing as fast as my heart.

“He’s okay. He fell off the ladder cleaning out the gutters and broke his hip. They’re keeping him overnight, and he has hip replacement surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“He’s spending the night at the hospital?” The thought of him lying in a hospital bed is absurd.

“It’s just for tonight, he should be able to come home tomorrow evening.”

“How long is the recovery?” I ask.

“Dr. Bartlett says he should be walking around in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s not so bad.” My mind tries to process everything.

“But he’ll need four months of physical therapy before he can go back to work.”

My stomach sinks again. “What about the shop?”

“We haven’t figured that out yet. But Dr. Bartlett said Dad can’t stand for that many hours. Or lift anything over thirty pounds.”

I ask my mom a dozen more questions and she does her best to answer. She promises to call me after Dad’s surgery tomorrow.

Over the next twenty-four hours, I research hip replacements online, watch a video on YouTube that makes me want to puke, and call Jake three times with questions.

When my mom finally calls, around 3 a.m. my time, I snatch up my phone on the first ring.

“Mom! What’s the news? How is Dad?”

“Juls, I’m doing great!” My dad’s voice is strong and clear and just hearing it makes me feel a zillion times better.

“Dad! What happened?”

“Everyone thinks this old man lost his balance and fell, but I’m telling you there was a rusty rung on that ladder, and it dropped me like a trapdoor. I’m going to inspect it tomorrow and prove it. If your mom lets me out of bed.”

“How did your surgery go?” I ask.

“Hurt like the dickens. Woke up with a pain in my hip like someone stabbed me with a hot poker dipped in tabasco sauce. I had a private room, but a semi-private gown, if you know what I mean. And they kicked me out of the hospital before the spinal wore off. I peed all over the car seat on the way home.”

“Oh, Dad!” Tears of laughter mix with tears of relief.

“It’s good to be home. Your mom’s taking good care of me. And of course running the shop. I don’t think she’s slept more than a few hours in the last few days.”

“I wish I was there! What can I do to help?”

“Oh, we’ll get things squared away. You just worry about taking care of that girl of yours. She sounds like a real hooligan.”

“She’s not so bad,” I say.

It takes thirty more minutes for my dad to convince me he’s going to be okay.

Listening to his description of the hospital food and the mean nurse who took care of him has me laughing so hard I’m afraid I’ll wake Isa.

I hang up the phone feeling better about everything.

My dad is okay. Everything’s going to be alright.

And then Brianna calls early the next morning.

“Hey Juls, have you talked to Mom and Dad?” Brianna’s the oldest, and even when she asks you a question, it feels like she’s bossing you around.

“Yes. I’m so relieved!”

“Did Mom talk to you about Dad’s recovery plan?”

“She said four months before he can go back to work.”

“At least. Brad’s taking a month leave to come down and help Mom run the shop.

I know you can’t come home right now, so we’ll take care of everything until you get back.

Were you planning on heading back to school in the fall, or could you stay in town a little longer?

I just think they’ll really need the help.

Mom can’t care for Dad and the shop at the same time. ”

“What about Kayla?” I ask, speaking past the horrible tightness that has seized my throat. “Maybe she could help out for a while.”

“She’s…not very reliable these days.” I’m not surprised, but the words still hit like a punch to the gut.

“How about selling the business?” I say. “I know it means a lot to Dad, but maybe it’s time.”

“They can’t,” Brianna says. “They tried a few years ago but the offer was so low they couldn’t accept it. They need something for retirement. It’s up to us to keep it afloat. I would go down myself if the twins weren’t such a handful right now.”

“Sure.”

“Nothing’s set in stone, but maybe plan on sticking around for a while after you get home, okay? You could head back to school in the spring. Or catch a summer term or something.”

“Of course. Yeah. Whatever the family needs.”

“You’re the best, Juls. We’re lucky to have you in our family.”

“Thanks, yeah, you too, Bree.”

I hang up the phone and pull my knees up to my chest. I stare at my half-painted toes.

Getting the school to hold my scholarship this year was a miracle.

There’s no way they’ll hold it until next spring.

And there’s no way I can afford tuition.

If I don’t go back to school this fall, I won’t be going back.