WANTED: Love of my Life

12. Peddling against the Current

“I hate optimists!”

Debby had miscalculated, of course. That is, if she had calculated at all. The dishes didn't all fit on the lower shelves. I stretched up as far as I could reach and tried to put the next plate in its place with the left hand, while with my right balancing the remaining plates.

Suddenly, a big, tanned hand took the plate from me and deposited it in its proper place. I knew whose hand it was without looking, and that really made it all clear, did it? I doubt I even would recognize my own mother's hand without her engraved wedding ring. But this hand was perfectly familiar to me. This hand helped me, had reached up where I couldn't reach, and I wasn't even angry about it – because I knew it wasn't done out of pity or annoyance but because the person it belonged to genuinely wanted to help me.

I turned, not being able to keep a smile from creeping onto my face.

“Giacomo!”

“Mia Angela”, he greeted me and I tried not to show too clearly how much I liked it when he called me that. He was smiling, too, looking as different from the sullen, retreated stranger in the corner as I could possibly imagine.

“Why are you here this late?” he wanted to know.

'Why are you?' I thought. 'Normally, you always disappear right after dinner.'

“I wanted to see you!” The words spilled out. I just couldn't help myself. I'm only a mortal and he stood there, looking all sleek, dangerous and gorgeous... “To.. tell you something,” I hurriedly tacked on. “I got a B- in my math test.”

His reaction wasn't what I had hoped for. He looked puzzled.

“Em, sorry, but I've got to ask... is that good?”

“For me it damn well is, yeah!”

“Sorry,” he repeated, looking sheepish. “I must admit, since I've been in America I haven't really spent much time studying the school system of the USA. I've had... other things on my mind.”

“Having a closer look at American schools might do you some good”, I hinted. He chose to ignore the comment.

“Well, then, I think congratulations are in order,” he said instead.

“Not just congratulations. Wait a sec.” Opening my Backpack, I retrieved the two cans of coke I had packed for the occasion. “I don't know if you've had one of these before. It's not exactly like they're exclusive to America. But if you haven't, I thought you might want to taste one for a change instead of having them thrown at you.”

“What a nice thought.”

Grinning, he took one of the cans. How could it be so easy to joke and laugh with him while all other things, the important things, were so incredibly difficult to talk about?

“So,” I said, “a toast. To me, to my incredible math skills, and my friend Giacomo.”

“Yes,” he said. “To us.”

To us. Did he... could he mean...

We sipped our cokes in silence. He tried to keep on a brave smile, but I could tell it cost him an effort.

“You prefer having them thrown at you, don't you?” I grinned.

He made a face. “Am I that obvious?”

“Just to me.” Because I have had a lot of Practice studying your face.

“It's just...” He held up the half-empty can of coke and stared at it distrustfully, “It tastes like bad quality water with sugar in it.”