Chapter 62
PAUL FOUND ME a few minutes later.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said as he clapped his hands on my shoulders.
I put the cigarette out quickly, then tilted my face up to Paul’s. “This is Teo.”
Teo seemed disappointed to be meeting Paul, and I wondered if he hadn’t guessed I was married.
It seemed impossible. There was the ring on my finger, for starters.
But also, every American woman on the island—with the exception of a handful of teachers and a couple of nurses—was attached to someone.
That was why we were in La Maddalena in the first place.
Paul extended his hand. “Paul Archer.”
“Teo Manca,” said Teo, and I made note of the last name. It was a nice name, I thought.
“Teo’s a journalist,” I told Paul.
I figured he might ask what Teo wrote, but he didn’t. He just said, “Oh yeah?”
To Teo, I said, “Paul works in Radiological Controls. On the Gilmore.”
“Oh, so you must be replacing Tom Mueller?”
I think it surprised Paul that Teo knew that. “I am. Do you know him?”
“I cover the U.S. Navy,” Teo said, nodding in the direction of Santo Stefano. “And NATO.”
“What did you say your name was again?” Paul asked.
“Teo Manca,” he said, and retrieved a card from his wallet, which he handed to Paul. “I’m with La Spedizione.”
“So you’re a leftie?” Paul said this like he was kidding, but I knew he wasn’t. Not really.
“The paper’s independent,” said Teo.
Paul chuckled. “How’d you say you know each other again?” he asked me.
“We didn’t,” I said, which was the three gin and tonics talking.
Paul pressed a thumb into my shoulder blade, a signal that I needed to watch it, but I was drunk and didn’t care much for secret signals. “Ouch,” I said, and squirmed out of his reach.
Teo explained that he was Francesca’s nephew.
“Francesca…” Paul said, clearly trying to place the name.
“My Italian teacher, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
I was annoyed, but Paul wasn’t paying attention because his boss, Joe Stearns, who had also come to the party, was seated at a nearby table. “Let’s go say hi,” he whispered.
I didn’t want to, but Joe and Paul had already made eye contact, and it was clear that’s where we were headed.
“It was nice seeing you again,” I said to Teo as I stood to go, and I hoped he knew I meant it. I turned to his friends, who were deep in their own conversation. “Buonanotte.”
“Buonanotte,” said Afonso. And because he did not realize Paul spoke Italian, he said to Teo, right in front of us, “Puoi fartela quando vuoi.”
Teo had just taken a sip of wine, and he nearly spat the drink across the table.
Then Paul got all belligerent and said in Italian that he didn’t appreciate Afonso talking about his wife like that.
Except he said, “Tieni mia moglie fuori dalla tua bocca,” which translated to something like “Keep my wife out of your mouth.” This made all four of them, even Gianna, laugh hysterically.
Teo tried to hush them, but it was too late. “Sorry,” he said to me and maybe to Paul, but Paul was already dragging me over to Joe Stearns’s table, where he told his boss that we’d have loved to stay and chat, but—unfortunately—I wasn’t feeling well.
As we walked back to the hotel, I tried to get Paul to tell me what Afonso had said, but it was a lost cause. All he would say was that Teo Manca and his friends needed to learn some damn manners.