Page 9 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)

I lay the camera on a bench nearby. Then Jake boosts me up to the lowest branch.

When I’m good and secure he hands me the camera, and I loop the strap around my neck.

He stands guard, but there’s really no one around.

I make my way toward the end of the branch until I’m hanging over the water.

I look through the lens, and my shot is perfect.

I can see the old stone tower reflected in the still surface of the pond, framed nicely by tree branches.

I take picture after picture and when I’m satisfied I’ve got it, I climb back to the trunk and drop down.

“How’d you do?” Jake asks. He picks a couple of leaves from my hair and pulls a piece of bark from my sweater.

“I got it!” I say proudly, and even on the tiny screen we can see what a cool photo it is.

We find a seafood restaurant with a view of Castello Sforzesco , and I devour a risotto filled with shrimp, clams, and scallops cooked in a white wine sauce. It tastes like summer at the beach. I don’t realize I’m making little noises until I see Jake smiling.

“It’s really good,” I say defensively.

“I’m sure it is.” His eyes are still smiling at me.

I keep eating but try to do it more quietly.

“On a scale of 1-10,” I say, when I’ve finished, “how nervous are you about med school interviews?”

“13,” he says. “Especially Harvard. They’re known for their tricky interview questions.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Here’s one I read online last night. ‘If you were given the task of moving Mount Fuji to Texas, how would you do it?’”

“Wait, how would you relocate a gigantic volcano? What possible answer could they want?”

“That’s why it’s been haunting me,” Jake says. “But I think I’ve settled on my answer. Ask me the question like you’re a Harvard interviewer.”

I sit up tall in my seat and straighten my shoulders.

“Good afternoon Mr. Fields,” I say in my best snobby accent.

“We have some urgent questions to ask you so we can determine if you are brilliant enough to come to our school. The health of the entire planet depends on you relocating Mount Fuji from Japan to Texas. How will you accomplish this task?”

“Well, that’s a great question,” Jake begins.

“I’m glad you asked. For a challenge like this, I would rely on relationships I’ve cultivated with the extra-terrestrial community.

I believe that coordinating efforts with this group will allow us to take advantage of their superior technology and accomplish this task.

A joint project such as this would not only help us achieve our goal but also strengthen ties with this often-overlooked population. ”

I burst out laughing. “Aliens? Working with aliens is your answer?”

Jake breaks character and smiles triumphantly. “Yeah, I thought it was pretty good.”

“It’s the best answer they will get all day,” I tell him.

After lunch we find a little lake that rents paddle boats.

Jake pays the man in the booth, and we paddle to the middle of the lake and float.

The trees block the sounds of the city, and it feels like we’re in the countryside.

I stretch my arms out and take a deep breath.

There’s a strong smell of wet dirt and moss. It sounds terrible, I know. It isn’t.

The morning clouds have disappeared, and a hot sun beats down on our arms and necks.

After a few minutes we move to the bench in the back under the umbrella.

The bench is narrower than the seats, definitely designed for children.

Jake’s leg is pressed against mine from hip to knee. It sounds harmless, I know. It isn’t.

My heart rate speeds up and my hands start to sweat. Jake’s looking out at the water, and his head is turned so I can’t see his mouth, but I can tell from the dimple in his cheek that he’s smiling.

“So did you always want to be a doctor?” I ask, mostly to break the tension.

“Yep. Both my parents are doctors. It was always just a question of what kind of medicine I wanted to practice.” He swirls his hand in the water, and I watch the ripples fan out. He turns and looks at me. “Did you always want to run a dry cleaner?” he asks.

“My family has run that place for twenty years,” I say, tapping my feet on the back of the boat. “Some of my earliest memories are sitting on the counter by my dad, watching the suits and dresses slide by, smelling the starch and warm plastic.”

“That was a really good job of not answering the question,” Jake replies. “What do you actually want to do after college?”

I give my shoulders a little shrug, but he’s not buying it. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity at odds with his whole ‘boy scout’ vibe.

“I don’t know you well,” he says, “but you strike me as someone who knows what she wants. So let's hear it.”

I pause a beat. “Photography.”

“There we go.” He shifts on the bench so he’s facing me.

“I’m not a photography expert, and I’ve seen exactly one photo you’ve taken.

But I just watched you lose all track of time and space as you photographed Piazza Duomo and climb a tree in the middle of a public park to get the perfect picture.

So I’d say it’s something that’s a big deal to you. Why not be a photographer?”

“There are just some other things to consider.” I dip my hand into the water. It’s cold, but it feels good with the sun. “So, how many siblings do you have?” I ask.

“One sister, two years younger,” he says. “ What other things to consider?”

I pull my hand out of the water and sprinkle little droplets onto my leg. Clearly he’s not going to let this go. “Financial things. Family things.”

His face still looks puzzled, so I lay it all out for him.

“Do I want to spend the rest of my life running a dry-cleaning business in the small town I spent a decade dreaming of escaping? No. Would I rather explore the world and photograph every inch of it? Yes, very much. Can I crush my dad’s hope of having one of his kids take over the family business?

No, I cannot. If you knew my dad, you’d understand.

This year is a ‘last hurrah’ before I embrace my fate and become a real grown up. ”

“I see.” His eyebrows are creased, and his dimples have gone dormant. “Why not have one of your siblings take over? Why does it have to be you?”

I shrug. “My two older brothers are both in the military. My two older sisters have kids. I’m the youngest, but I’m the first one in my family to go to college.

I’m not going to waste that by studying something impractical like photography.

Not when I can graduate with a business degree and run the business that supports my family. ”

Jake shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem fair, that you don’t get to follow your dreams.”

I sigh. “I know it seems that way from the outside. But it is fair. My parents have sacrificed everything for our family. This is the least I can do. For me to graduate from college and then not come back and help, now that would be unfair. And it would break my dad’s heart.”

To my complete mortification, my voice breaks on the last word. This is more than I normally share on a first date. It’s more than I share on any date. Pull it together, Evans.

I clear my throat. “So yeah, that’s the plan.”

“Well, my sister’s plan is to scrap college and marry rich,” Jake says. I can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, and I appreciate it. “You could always give that a try.”

I smile. “Marriage isn’t part of my plans for the near future.”

“No?”

“No.”

I think he’s going push for more info, but instead he says, “Tell me about that tiny thug you nanny. Did she throw any more barbies off the balcony?”

“This week seemed better,” I respond. “But she may be lulling me into a false sense of security before the real shenanigans start. It seems like something she would do.”

We spend a long time in that little boat in the middle of the lake.

We talk about books. He likes detective mysteries with logical clues you can piece together to crack the case.

I like fantasy novels where anything can happen, and I never see the ending coming.

We talk about music. We both like the old stuff our parents listened to.

We ask each other serious questions and silly questions.

I feel myself liking him more with each answer he shares.

“What a delightful lake,” I say after we’ve returned our boat.

“The chef at the restaurant recommended it,” Jake says.

“Really? That seems funny.”

“While you were in the bathroom, I told him I was trying to woo a lovely young woman and asked where I should take her next.”

I stop walking. “You did not!”

“I did,” Jake says with an open and honest smile. “He was very helpful. Told me about the lake and gave me some advice about mothers-in-law.”

We walk a little while in silence.

“So, you’re wooing me?” I ask and glance over at him. His eyes seem to catch the last rays of the setting sun. The medium brown of early morning has turned into warm honey.

“Yes, I am,” he says. “How am I doing?”

“Terrible,” I say, trying to scowl. But my mouth curls into a smile giving me away, and Jake sees and smiles too.

Honestly, the whole day has been lovely. I haven’t felt this kind of chemistry and connection with a guy in a long time. Maybe ever. And I like his whole approach, it’s straightforward, but not aggressive or uncomfortable.

“Are you ready for some dinner?” Jake asks.

“Honestly, I’m still full from lunch. But I am kind of chilly.” The temperature’s dropped considerably since the sun set. “Should we grab some hot chocolate? I’ve heard it’s pretty good here.”

Jake stops walking. “You haven’t tried the hot chocolate yet?” The horror on his face is comical.

We walk ten blocks to Jake’s favorite cafe, and he orders for both of us while I grab a table by the window.

“Prepare yourself,” he says, dramatically placing my cup in front of me. “One sip will make you want to sell all your earthly possessions and spend the money on hot chocolate.”