Chapter 3 #5
“Not really. He visited once,” Lora said, thinking of the photo tucked into her folder of documents.
It showed Ivo standing against the counter in the tiny kitchen of her childhood home, his attention drawn to someone or something out of the frame.
A three-year-old Lora gazed up at him with her arms outstretched, wanting.
“Things didn’t work out for them, from what my mom said. Anyway, I didn’t know him.”
“You might find lots of people here that did. They might be able to give you more details. His stables are still sitting unused—you could check them out as well.”
“Stables?”
“Yes. He ran a horse farm right on the sea. You didn’t know?”
She did not. But knowing about Ivo wasn’t what she wanted at all.
It was clear that some people might hear her story and assume that she was a woman in search of answers.
That was not the case. She had decided long ago that she already knew everything there was to know about her origin story.
Raised by a single mother; check. Nonexistent father figure; check.
Cared for a mother dying of cancer; check.
Moved to a new city, put herself through community college, then graduate school; check, check, check.
She had mined all of the parts of it that could be used to get her where she was today and promptly closed the door.
She was not here on a mission to find herself, or anyone else—cute elected official or not.
“Listen.” She pulled back from him. “I want to be clear about something. I am here to get my citizenship, not to dig up history. It’s nothing against you or this town, but I need to make this happen and keep moving.
Ivo wasn’t a part of my life before now, and I don’t have plans to suddenly include him.
So, I’ll look forward to getting into your office tomorrow to find that birth certificate, but other than that—I’m good. ”
“I understand. It’s just that you’re going to be here for a while, and I thought that maybe you’d like to—”
“Unnecessary,” she cut him off, shaking her head.
“I have plenty of work to do ahead of the start of my program, especially after Vilmari goes. She’s only here for two weeks, and by my calculations, I should only have to be here for about a month after that, so believe me, I don’t need a scavenger hunt or a history lesson. ”
“OK,” he said, pulling away from her entirely. “But this is the second time I’ve heard you say this thing about six weeks. I don’t want to disappoint you, but the Italian system is notoriously bureaucratic and slow. You may have to be prepared for anything.”
“What I am prepared for is to be successful,” she said. The band switched to a peppy Italian rock song, and they stepped away from the dancing area.
“And I am sure that you will be. Eventually. But six weeks is really almost impossible.”
“Well, it’s going to have to be possible.” She edged farther away as a group of young kids bounced around to the music. “I have almost every document.”
“I am not sure that matters, to be honest. I’ve never heard of anyone getting this done that fast,” he said, scrunching his forehead.
“Those people were not me.” She folded her arms, leveling her chin.
“Hey there, Mami.” Vilmari wrapped her arm around Lora and nudged her away from Andrea, who began chatting with Nico. “Everything OK over here? I left you on the verge of becoming first lady, and now it looks like you were about to introduce the mayor to one of your jab-cross combos.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on a few things. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Andrea gave a tight smile to the group.
“Ciao,” said Vilmari, watching him walk away. She turned to Nico. “Give me five minutes and then you have to finish your story. I am dying to hear what Alcaraz said back!”
“Assolutamente, tesorina. I’ll be here,” Nico cooed, holding on to Vilmari’s hand until she pulled away.
“Now”—Vilmari turned back to Lora—“I saw every vein in your neck from clear across the room even though my vision was almost entirely obstructed by Nico’s pectorals. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing. Just him telling me that I can fill my time here by learning about my long-lost dad and that I’ll probably be here for much longer than I think because”—she held up her fingers in air quotes—“‘six weeks is really almost impossible.’”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like you’re taking it. Hang on,” she said, pulling Nico back over to them by the hand. “What do you think of the idea of Lora being able to get her citizenship in six weeks?”
He laughed, looked up at Lora, whose face was stone, then stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat. “I never had to do it, so I don’t know, of course.”
“See?” said Vilmari. “He doesn’t know. Anything is possible.”
“But once it took six months to fight a parking ticket because, at that time, I don’t have a car,” he said.
Lora’s face fell.
“Don’t think about it, OK? We’re going to get in that office tomorrow, right? Already a day ahead of schedule!”
“You know what, Mar? You’re right. I am going to make this happen, no matter what anyone thinks.”