Pasta Imperfect - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,27

anyway? The senior center book sale?"

"I bought it new from that Michaels woman our first night in Rome."

"New?" I regarded the shabby cover, the dog-eared pages, the faded color. "You're kidding. It looks older than the Rosetta stone."

Nana touched the book's broken spine with affection. "It's on account a my hands. When I get to readin' them love scenes, it makes my palms all sweaty." She compressed her lips as she studied the book's cover. "George don't read much, Emily, but I'm not gonna let that come between us. He says he did read a best seller a few years back. Some book about the thrills a off-trail hikin'. All the famous climbers endorsed it, but George thought it was all hype and way too risky, so he didn't pay it no mind when he went to Yosemite."

"How is he able to climb mountains with only one leg?"

"Denial. I don't think he realizes he's only got the one." Nana stuffed the book back into her pocketbook and when she looked up again, broke out in a smile. "Well, would you lookit that. There's my sweetie pie now." She raised her arm to signal him.

I gazed toward the dining room entrance to find George taking small, robotic steps toward us. He was walking so stiffly and holding his head so erect that he looked as if he was wearing a straitjacket instead of the same tartan plaid shirt he'd been wearing yesterday. "Why is he walking like that?"

"Lower back pain."

I frowned. "He never mentioned back pain on his medical form. When did that start?"

"Last night. I was readin' the barbarian's first hot love scene out loud, and I asked if it was actually possible for a fella to twist hisself into the kinda contortion the author described."

"And?"

She winced guiltily. "It wasn't. He needs lots more practice."

"Good morning, everyone!" Duncan's voice suddenly filled the room. "Or should I say, buon giorno?" He strode into the dining room, positioning himself in a central location where he could be seen and heard by all of us, and rattled off a spate of Italian that was as incomprehensible to me as an aria sung by one of the three tenors, but just as captivating.

"For your benefit, allow me to translate," he continued. "I have a few announcements for you this morning." As George eased gingerly into a chair beside Nana, Duncan raised a thick manila envelope above his head.

"This just arrived by messenger. Partial reimbursement for the loss of your belongings in Rome."

I cast a look about the room, noticing my red silk halter top on a perfect stranger, and my sleeveless button-front blouse on someone else. Was there anyone on this tour who hadn't ripped off a piece of my wardrobe?

"If you'll remain at your tables, I'll come around to distribute the funds. I have money for everyone except" -- his eyes roved the room until they settled on me -- "everyone except Emily, who's the only person on the tour lucky enough not to have had her clothes go up in flames."

My eyes grew wide. My mouth fell open. No money for me? But...but...he had to give me something! Okay, it was a minor technicality that I still had clothes, but the thing was, EVERYONE ELSE WAS WEARING THEM!

"This is a free day for you, so visit some of the open-air markets and replenish your travel supplies. Tomorrow we've decided to treat you to an unscheduled day trip to Pisa, with all entrance fees paid by us."

Oohs. Aahs. Titters. George stuck two fingers in his mouth to whistle, then froze up like a rusty pipe halfway through. I shot him a panicked look. "What's wrong?" I mouthed.

"Old rotator cuff injury." He hedged. "It flares up sometimes when I move the wrong way."

Right. Like when he tried to become a human pretzel. I massaged my temple. Oh, God. And this was only day two.

"The Leaning Tower won't be reopened until June of next year," Duncan went on, "but Pisa itself is a great place to spend the day. I'll assign a nine-fifteen departure time for tomorrow morning and to make sure you don't forget, I'll post the time in the lobby as a reminder. Any questions?"

I saw a woman wave her hand in the air and when she stood up, I noticed something else. She was wearing my favorite lemon yellow sundress with the thin shoulder straps and fit - and - flare shape! AARGHHH!

"How are we supposed to find our way around Florence