No doubt. But in the end, I think I would want you to be happy.”
“Yes. That is the correct way to act. It doesn’t matter anyway, I need to talk to her, because you’re mine and you’re going to move in with us here, and you’ll continue to be a part of my life, and therefore you’ll be a part of hers. It’s in her best interest to behave. And remember, you’re the talented one here. She represents you because you are good. If she drops you, you will find another agent, and things don’t look so well for her, do they?”
She nods, looking down at her hands.
“What I am saying,” I tell her, brushing her hair behind her shoulder, “is that you need to go and finish the book. That’s all. It’s just you and the book. I’ll handle Jana, okay? Then when all is said and done, then we’ll get you moved out of your flat in Edinburgh and everything else that follows. But for now…your job is to write. Capisci?”
“Okay,” she says after a moment. Then she throws her shoulders back. “I’m going to write.”
She hops out of bed, spry as anything.
“Where are you going?” I ask her. “It’s early.”
“I’m going to the loo,” she says, heading to the toilet. “Then I’m going to my office.”
“I’m going back to sleep,” I tell her, flopping back down on the bed.
“No you’re not!” she calls out. “You know I can’t work without the espresso.”
Damn. She’ll never figure out that machine.
I groan loud enough so that she hears it, and then get out of bed to make her coffee.
The day goes slowly.
Grace spends all her time in her office, riding a massive wave of inspiration. I see her occasionally when she comes back into the house for snacks or refreshments, but I give her space. She even writes through lunch, which blows Vanni’s mind. “How could anyone pass up a meal?” he says.
I end up working on the statue, which probably seems like tedious work to anyone else, but to me it’s a whole new world. I get so involved in what I am doing, chipping away at the marble to make it become something beautiful and real, that I also would work right through lunch.
Of course Vanni would never let that happen.
He’s been in good spirits himself. I’ve asked him a few times, privately, if he really is okay with Grace and me being together. He said that he’s slowly come around to the idea, as long as we promise never to break up. He doesn’t want to get attached to Grace and then have her leave.
I promised him that would never happen. That we love each other too much, and that the three of us are on this ride together.
He seemed satisfied with that answer. He just wants to feel included, and I’ll do anything to take all his fears away. At least I can trust my son to be honest with me, even when he does talk about my parenting in another dimension.
The last piece of the puzzle is Jana.
Right before I’m about to start dinner, I take a couple of shots of whisky, and then I’m in my study for privacy, ringing her up.
She doesn’t answer right away. I have a feeling that my face and number showing up on her screen might make her pause.
But she does, right before it goes to voicemail.
“Claudio,” she says stiffly.
“Jana,” I say, trying to sound as warm as possible to counter that.
“Is everything okay? Is Vanni all right?”
“He is fine.”
You know why I’m calling.
“Oh, good. It was so nice to see him.”
She doesn’t sound awkward at all.
“Yes. He misses you a lot,” I tell her.
“I know.”
“You need to come by more often. I mean that.”
“I know.” Pause. “Though I’m sure I won’t matter much soon.”
“What does that mean?”
“You. And Grace.”
“What about us?”
She lets out a dry laugh. “Oh. You don’t see how it is, do you? She’s the new me, Claudio. She’s the replacement.”
“You never said that about any of my other ex-girlfriends,” I point out. “You never said that about Marika.”
“Because you didn’t love Marika. Certainly not the way that you love Grace. Oh, I know that Vanni spilled the bloody beans, but it was quite obvious even before that. I saw the looks you gave each other, looks that we never exchanged, and I just…I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that I was being replaced with a younger, prettier version of myself.”