Chapter 12

Montgomery, Alabama. Juneau, Alaska. Phoenix, Arizona.

Sarah stared into the darkness. Was this the second or third time she’d recited the capitals? She pulled up the comforter, snuggled it under her chin, and forced herself not to check the clock.

Little Rock, Arkansas. Sacramento, California. Denver, Colorado.

She closed her eyes. Why wasn’t Dad’s trick working tonight? It always worked—except, apparently, when Eduardo’s warm eyes, his mellow baritone, and his toned stature occupied her thoughts. She drove her foot into the mattress. God, she was stupid! How had she mistaken Eduardo and Roberta as a married couple? Judging by the way Roberta ranted at him, the pair wasn’t likely to spend much time in the same room, let alone share a house together. She sighed. Perhaps if she worked more on her Italian, she wouldn’t have been so confused.

From her bed, she eyed the wrinkled business card. Why had she ignored him at pick-up? Now, he probably thought she was moodier than a pubescent teen. She squeezed shut her eyes.

Hartford, Connecticut. Dover, Delaware. Tallahassee, Florida.

A girly giggle resonated through the walls. Sarah checked the time, eleven thirty. With a groan, she crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe. Undoubtably, Flora was the offender; she was notorious for breaking curfew, especially on Sarah’s watch. Probably did on Anna’s watch, too, but Anna wasn’t a stickler for rules. And Anna didn’t have Sister Maria on her back.

Sarah dragged herself to the second floor and followed the laughter to the room of two upper-school students. She knocked lightly on the door then used her key to open it.

Inside, Flora twirled in a skin-tight dress.

On the bed, Natalia sat with knees tucked beneath her, her eyes bright.

“Girls, I called lights out at ten.”

“Bene,” Flora grumbled, coming to a stop. She hopped onto the bed and picked up two pairs of tights. “Which one do you think, Ms. Miller? Black or blue?”

Sarah frowned. “I said lights out.”

“But Ms. Miller,” Natalia chimed in, “Flora has a date.”

Sarah folded her arms over her chest. “Not on my watch she doesn’t.”

“Not tonight.” Flora laid the tights against her red dress. “Tomorrow.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow then frowned. Even students at an all-girls school knew how to get a date. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed. But just before it clicked shut, she poked her head back in and gave Flora a once-over. “The black.” She smiled and closed the door. Flora had better hope Sister Maria didn’t catch wind of—

At the end of the hall, Sister Maria stood. A glare etched into the nun’s gray eyes.

Sarah froze. “Sister, I mean, Suor Maria…Flora… sentire.” She couldn’t string together the words. She puffed her bangs from her eyes and stepped forward, starting again in English. “Flora and Natalia were, you know, being girls. But I took care of them.”

With a straight face, Sister Maria nodded. “I saw the light from my room. Did you assign them detention?”

Sarah shook her head. “Just a warning.” Does that statement count as lying?

Sister Maria turned toward the stairs.

With Sister Maria’s back to her, Sarah silently crossed herself. Couldn’t hurt. She scrambled to catch up.

“Quiet evening.” Sister Maria fixed her gaze straight ahead. “Will you turn in soon?”

Faltering, she missed a step. She steadied herself with the banister. Was Sister Maria referring to her late-night—or rather, all-night-long—adventure with Anna? Sister Maria’s words were burned into her memory. I had hoped you would be a positive influence on Miss Franklin. Sarah’s cheeks burned. “Yes, I will,” she answered.

“I don’t mean to imply you shouldn’t enjoy yourself,” Sister Maria continued. “Perhaps just not to the extent Anna does.”

Sarah let her gaze drift to the chandelier. Rows of crystals bounced light over the sweeping, spiral staircase. I bet the theatres in Rome have even more grandiose décor. “I would like to see the orchestra or opera or attend an evening art exhibit. I just…” She bit her lip as she let her voice trail off. Why was she telling this to her boss?

At bottom of the stairs Sister Maria placed a hand on her shoulder. “Time is needed to make friends in a new place.”

“Yes, it is.” Sarah started toward her room.

“I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the other teachers—or even some students’ parents.”

Sarah paused, her teeth finding the inside of her lip; she didn’t turn back. Did Sister Maria know about Eduardo? Perhaps she’d caught Sarah staring like a schoolgirl? She didn’t relish the thought. She also didn’t relish Sister Maria’s help in that area. If Eduardo already thought she was moody, how would enlisting the help of Sister Maria make her look? Like a nutjob? She released the grip on her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you, but I can manage.”

After saying goodnight to Sister Maria, Sarah returned to her room. Her back pressed against the door, she stared at Eduardo’s business card. A shiver tingled her spine. Sister Maria’s assessment couldn’t have been more dead-on. She should enjoy herself. She should make new friends. And…she should go out—maybe, even with Eduardo.

Sarah smiled and rushed to her bed, eager for sleep and eager for a new day. Because tomorrow, she planned for all of those things to happen.

****

The next morning, Sarah stood by the curb at drop-off, greeting the students as they exited their vehicles. Frowning, she picked a lint ball from her nicest twin-set; the pilling was compliments of the coin laundry on the corner. If only she owned a wardrobe like Anna’s, or even Flora’s—not that she could fit into either of their clothes. Well, maybe she could fit in Flora’s clothes, but not Anna’s toddler-sized get-ups. She sipped her third cup of Earl Grey tea. If she had many more nights like the previous one, she’d need to start taping up her eyelids.

She spotted a dark car with Lucia in the passenger seat. She pinched her cheeks and rubbed her lip-glossed lips. Her heart thudded in her chest. Get a hold of yourself, Sarah. You’re a grown—

The approaching car wasn’t a Mercedes, but an Alfa Romeo. And the driver wasn’t Eduardo. He was Lucia’s stepfather.

Sighing, Sarah took a step back.

Lucia rolled down her window. “Ms. Miller! Ms. Miller!”

So much for retreating.

The car stopped.

“Good morning, Ms. Miller.” Lucia climbed out of the car.

“Good morning, Lucia.” Sarah helped her from the car. She pressed a hand onto Lucia’s backpack, slammed the car door, and started toward the building.

“Buongiorno,” a voice called out behind her.

Sarah stiffened but forced herself to turn.

Lucia’s stepfather leaned across the passenger seat. “Mi chiamo Leonardo de Luca.” He drawled through the rolled-down window.

“Ms. Miller. Lucia’s English teacher.” Please let him not understand English.

“I’m Lucia’s stepfather,” he said in thickly accented English.

Today is not my day. “Nice to meet you.” Sarah’s phone vibrated, and she yanked it out as she backed away from the car. Who in the world called at this hour? Mom. Oh, hell. She turned back to Mr. De Luca.

His gaze swept over her body.

A flush rushed her chest. Dear God, was he appraising her? She gave a curt nod, turned, and answered the phone. “Mom? What’s wrong?” Behind Sarah, the Alfa Romeo revved.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got the best news!”

Sarah checked her watch and did the calculation. “At two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was online, and guess what?”

“Make it quick, Mom. My class starts in five minutes.”

“I just landed the most fabulous deal on a hotel, and it’s only two blocks from your school.”

Sarah’s stomach dropped. “Mom, that place is a hostel. You have to share a bathroom.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just use yours.”

Mine? Did people in their thirties have strokes, because she felt like she was about to have one.

“And I’ve been meaning to ask,” her mom continued, “did the divorce papers come?”

Definitely a candidate for a stroke. “Uh, no. Haven’t heard anything.” The crosses hanging at the entry of the school judged her. At least truthfulness wasn’t a commandment. Respecting one’s parents, on the other hand… Sarah swallowed hard. “I’ve got to go, Mom. Love you.”

Yep, definitely not my day.

****

As the day wore on, Sarah’s interest in seeing Eduardo waned again. How had she considered dating so soon? She hadn’t even heard back from Judy—and if the news wasn’t good, then she’d really be in for an awkward conversation with her mother…and Meredith. Neither knew of the divorce dispute yet.

As Sarah paced the rows in her classroom, she collected vocabulary quizzes from the primo tres students. At least she’d have something to keep her busy over the weekend. Would Philip’s reply really drag on until next week? Could she survive two more days of waiting?

She scanned the papers as the students placed them on her desk. Lucia’s was definitely a hundred. But Cira’s? Sarah sighed. Did Mr. Moretti not encourage the child to study? She shoved the paper to the bottom of the stack—always best to grade the worst papers last. “Ten minutes left. Please take out your book and spend the rest of class reading.”

The students pulled out their copies of Charlotte’s Web. Most flipped to the middle of the book. Some, like Cira, were still on the third chapter. Only Lucia didn’t read Charlotte’s Web at all. Leaning forward on her elbows, Lucia was engrossed in The Phantom Tollbooth.

With a furrowed brow, Sarah walked over, knelt, and lowered her voice. “Lucia, where is your assigned book?”

Lucia scarcely pulled her gaze from the book. “I finished it. I asked my dad to get me this one.” Her gaze locked on the page, she gave a head nod to the bulletin board. “I saw it on the board.”

“Well, that book’s for primo quattro, but I’m sure you can manage.” Sarah smiled.

Lucia looked up at Sarah then, wearing a wide smile.

Sarah bent closer. “If you think it’s okay, why don’t you stay after to practice your line? Will your ride mind?”

Lucia’s smile broadened, and she shook her head. “That would be great.” A few minutes later, when the students departed from the room, Lucia stayed back.

Sarah took a seat atop a student desk.

“You can put down the script, Lucia. I know you have it memorized.”

Lucia lowered the script, which blocked her face. All trace of a smile was wiped from her face.

“Good.” Sarah stared Lucia in the eye. “Now, I’ll tell you a trick. Instead of looking me dead on, stare at my forehead.” She pressed a finger to the center of her forehead.

At the front of the classroom, Lucia’s gaze tracked upward.

“Excellent. To the audience, you appear to stare them in the eye, when you’re not.”

Lucia’s brow line softened.

“Now, say your line.”

Lucia’s voice lowered to a whisper, her words indecipherable.

Sarah let a smile consume her face anyway. “Excellent!” She clapped. “Now say it loud—” Sarah’s phone buzzed on her desk. She jumped up and grabbed it. Judy. Her breath caught, and she turned to Lucia. “I’m sorry, Lucia, but I have to take this call.”

Her fingers shook—no, her whole body. She barely heard the faint thud of the door closing as Lucia left. She pressed the green button. “H-hi, Judy.” The shakiness caused her to stutter.

“Good afternoon, Sarah. I’ve just heard from Philip’s attorney.”

“Yes?”

“The news isn’t great, but he’s reverted back to the original agreement, except…”

Jitteriness gave way to tightness. Sarah clenched her fists. Except I have to pay his lawyer fees? Except now he’s requesting alimony payments? Except Philip Flynn always has the last word?

“…except he pays your lawyer fees.”

Sarah nearly dropped the phone. “Come again?”

“I said, he agreed to pay my fees.”

“Really?” She giggled the word.

“Yes, really.”

After a celebratory dance around her classroom, Sarah rushed to the school entrance. Students gathered on the staircase and the sidewalk. Sarah elbowed past backpacks and pushed through a pair of giggling upper school girls until she found Anna.

“Anna! Anna!” She yanked on her friend’s hand. “He took it. He took the deal! Well, not the whole deal, but almost.” The story spilled out faster than Mr. Moretti could spew Italian. After she’d shared all details, Sarah sucked in the tepid autumn air, and her insides tingled with electricity. With a scrunched brow and open mouth, Anna looked like her head might start to spin. Then she broke into a smile—a genuine one. Not her usual smartass, I-told-you-so grin.

“That’s so great!” Anna embraced her. “I knew it. We should celebrate, gelato, prosecco, the works. But—”A horn blared, and Anna glanced in the direction of the car. “But not tonight.”

The jolt inside Sarah lost some of its energy. “That’s right. Your weekend with Juan.”

Anna picked up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Bad timing. We’ll celebrate Tuesday, when I’m back. I promise.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Sarah gave Anna a send-off pat on the back. “I’ll live vicariously through you.”

Anna flashed a grin and hurried toward Juan’s Ferrari.

Sarah gazed dreamily after them. Wouldn’t a weekend in Florence be great? Not partying in the Piazza della Signoria like Anna but touring the halls of the Uffizi. She could walk the shores of the Arno; she could study the David.

“Ms. Miller,” a low timbre resounded.

Sarah turned to see Eduardo approach. The sun glistened off his shiny curls, and his white shirt magnified his tanned skin. But something was different—a tightness set into his jaw and a stiffness consumed his usually relaxed shoulders. Moody. He definitely thinks I’m moody.

“Sister Maria tells me you’re helping Lucia with her lines,” he said.

“She does?”

Behind Eduardo, and across the schoolyard, Sister Maria stood with Lucia.

“Sister Maria doesn’t miss anything.” Eduardo ran his fingers through his hair. “I learned the hard way—more detentions than I can count.”

Sarah gasped. “She was your teacher?”

“Principal. Six years.”

“Is that why she’s at a girls’ school now?” She tipped up her lips in a smile.

Eduardo studied her for a moment, before he laughed.

His brown eyes gleamed, and his laugh was easy, almost playful. The electricity in Sarah’s veins recharged.

Eduardo’s laughter subsided, and an uneasiness settled over him again. “I don’t think she’d disagree. Anyway,” his gaze shifted to his feet then Sarah’s face, and back to his feet, “I just wanted to say thanks.” He started toward Lucia and Sister Maria.

“Eduardo,” Sarah called.

He stopped and wheeled around.

Sarah let the energy in her veins direct her. She swallowed hard, rolled her shoulders back, and smiled. “I wondered if you’re still willing to help me with my Italian. I mean, if you’re not too busy.”

Eduardo’s jaw softened, and his shoulders relaxed. His lips rounded into a smile. “Sure. When would you like to start?”

She relaxed her shoulders. “Whenever suits you.”

“I’ve got Lucia this weekend. How about Monday? After school?”

“That would be great.” Sarah’s voice came out in an enthusiastic hurrah. She pulled it back, biting her lip. “I mean, I’d appreciate your help very much.”

He smiled and held her gaze for a moment before turning to retrieve Lucia.

Sarah waited for them to depart—waited for one last infectious smile and carefree wave from Eduardo before they pulled away. A heady feeling swarmed her, threatening to make her sway. But beneath the dizziness, the electricity charged.

On the far side of the courtyard, Sister Maria stared at Eduardo’s exiting car.

Was the stickler nun smiling? Sarah didn’t step closer to see. Too many things raced through her mind: the divorce, the deal, and a first date. She had to tell someone, and Sister Maria definitely wasn’t that person. She raced back to her room, dialing Meredith on the way.

One ring.

Two rings. Shoot, was Meredith dropping Amber at the bus stop?

Three rings. Was Steven napping?

“Sarah? Is that you?”

Sarah reached her room, slipped inside, and slammed the door. “Meredith, I’ve got so much to tell you.” The excitement in her voice returned, and she did nothing to mask it.

“What? What is—”

“I’m two signatures from divorce. Philip is paying my lawyer fees, and…” Sarah flounced on the bed, twirling her hair around one finger. “I’ve got a date.” Hopefully, she didn’t royally muck it up.