Chapter 8: The Send-Off

By seven o'clock the backyard at 14 Linden Court held about forty people and a table of food that could have fed a hundred.

Paper lanterns hung from the fence.

A banner over the patio said CONGRATS VALENTINA in pink letters.

Neighbors balanced plates on their knees and told each other what a lovely house it was.

I stood at the side gate with Nonna's sister on my arm and Luca a step behind me.

Luca had borrowed a gray blazer from his roommate, and it was a size too small in the shoulders.

"You look like a bouncer at a bakery," Nonna's sister told him.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me this week."

"Don't let it go to your head."

I took a breath, and we walked in.

Heads turned.

Some of the neighbors smiled at me with the polite confusion of people who had been told a story and were now looking at the main character.

Mom saw me from the patio and came across the lawn so fast that her heels sank into the grass.

"You came," she said in a bright voice for the audience, and then, very low, "Behave yourself."

"I'm only here to listen, Mom."

"That boy is not supposed to be here."

"He's driving Nonna's sister home. She doesn't like the highway at night."

Mom looked at the tiny old woman on my arm, and her smile stopped.

"Aunt," she said weakly. "How nice that you could come."

"I would not have missed it," said Nonna's sister. "Such a big house. Such a lot of windows."

She said it sweetly, and Mom flinched.

Behind her, Vincent stood by the drinks table with his parents.

He saw me and looked away at once.

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