Vanni, meanwhile, is slathering a slice of toast with a disturbing amount of Nutella. He grins at me cheekily as he bites into it, chocolate smearing on his face.
“Here we are,” Claudio says as he places the espresso in front of me. “I must apologize for the crema again. I’ll take a look at the machine later.”
“Papà, you’ve been saying you’ll look at the machine for a year now.”
Claudio pauses, his coffee halfway to his lips while he shoots his son a look that could kill. “Vanni,” he says calmly. “Have you ever heard of the expression, throwing someone under the bus?”
“Have you ever heard of the expression, the wheels on the bus go round and around?”
I snicker to myself and both of them look at me. “Sorry. It’s just, that’s an old nursery rhyme.”
Vanni raises his chin. He would look haughty if he didn’t have Nutella on it. “It also means that you keep saying the same thing over and over again, like wheels on a bus going round and round.”
“You just made that up,” Claudio says, reaching forward with a napkin and wiping the Nutella off his face. Vanni squirms in response. “I have to say, it’s very clever.”
Vanni shrugs. “Naturalmente.” He goes back to munching the bread.
I can’t help but be a wee bit smitten by the two of them together. They seem to have such a good, easy relationship. Obviously I know nothing about parenting, but the love between them is more than noticeable.
“Grace,” Claudio says, turning his attention back to me, his eyes sharpening in intensity. “I take it you got some writing done yesterday. Your muse finally showed.”
I nod as I finish chewing on a slice of melon. “I think so. I just hope the muse returns. I’m a little at a loss as to where to go with the story today.”
“You’re making progress, that’s what matters.”
I exhale through my nose. “Yeah. But I didn’t do a lot of writing. It was a lot of rewriting. I basically went through and rewrote my whole proposal and outline, and then rewrote the first few chapters.”
“That’s not easy to do.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “And to be honest, I don’t know if I’m allowed to do that.”
“But it’s your art.”
“But someone bought that specific art and now I’m changing it.”
“I see. What did you change?”
“Well, for one, my book was supposed to be set in the Shetland Islands. I’ve been there with my father when I was really young. It’s cold and isolated and desolate. And while that setting made perfect sense for me when I was in Edinburgh, now that I’m here … it doesn’t feel right. I want to be here in person and in the book. In both worlds.”
Vanni straightens up suddenly and leans toward me. “You experience both worlds too?”
I give him a pointed look. “No. Not like you do with your parallel universe timelines or whatever. I mean, when I’m working, that’s one world that I create, and that I occupy. And when I’m not writing, then I’m in reality. That’s another world. Sometimes you want both worlds to be as different as possible. That’s usually the case when, well, when you’re trying to escape something. Other times, you don’t want to escape. This place, here, this is my escape. And I want the book to reflect that, too.”
“So you went from the Shetland Islands to … Tuscany?” Claudio asks.
“They say to write what you know. I’m here right now. Why not?”
“I absolutely agree,” Claudio says, flashing me another warm smile that makes my stomach flutter.
Argh. It’s too early in the morning for this reaction.
“Right,” I say slowly, averting my gaze. “I just don’t know if Jana will agree.”
“Yeah, she probably won’t,” Vanni admits.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.
“Ignore him,” Claudio says. “I’m sure it will work out. They need a book, don’t they? This is the book. And whatever magic you work, they’ll see that too. Have faith.”
I give him an appreciative smile. Little does he know that the setting isn’t the only thing that’s changed. I’ve turned the sad ending into a happily ever after. I have no idea what I’m doing, but at least I’m excited to find out.
“Well, I know you are busy today with your writing,” Claudio continues after he drains his coffee cup. “But later, Vanni and I are taking the bicycles and going to Lucca. It’s not too far. If you want to join us, we have an extra bike for you.”
That does sound like a lot of fun, even though my balance on bikes is chaotic at best.
You’re here to work, the voice speaks up. Not to meander around the Tuscan countryside on bikes with your agent’s son and ex-husband.
“I’ll see how things go,” I tell him.
But as disciplined as I try to make myself, the frantic energy I experienced yesterday as I rewrote everything disappears once I officially start on a blank page. I try writing outside, I try writing in the study, but the looming realization of what I had done and how I have to grapple with a whole new story and plot, weighs too heavily on me, and every other minute I’m distracted by the beautiful day and the idea of going on a bike ride with those two.
So, in the end, the bike ride wins.
Or perhaps my procrastination does.
I close my laptop with a sigh. Maybe a bike ride will clear my head and I can get back to it later. I bring out my phone and check my email out of habit. I expected Jana to email me at some point to apologize for the mix-up over the house, but I haven’t heard from her. I guess I’m not surprised.
It’s probably for the best. If I heard from her, I’d be tempted to tell her what I’m doing with the book, and if she balks at the idea, then that will send me into a spiral that I’ll never recover from. I have to stick to my guns and write this book my way and not care what anyone says until it’s done. I know it’s either that or there won’t be a book at all.
And you won’t have your second chance. The world will know you were nothing without Robyn. That’s why Maureen dumped you, isn’t it?
I push the negativity out of my head. It’s not going bike riding with me.
I zip into one of my favorite casual dresses, a knee-length red and white number with a tight bodice and full skirt, then slip on a pair of hot pink shorts underneath since I’ll be on a bike. On my feet I go for a pair of beige linen high tops for traction and comfort, then I grab a crossbody purse (my notebook stuffed inside in case I’m struck by inspiration), and head down the stairs.
Music comes blaring out from the bottom floor, a familiar staccato drum beat that gets louder until I realize it’s INXS “Need You Tonight.”
I follow the music and find the door to Claudio’s studio open, the song blaring out along with Claudio singing loudly, “I’m lonely, can’t think at all.”
I pause by the doorway and look in. He said I couldn’t disturb him if the door was closed, but if it’s open, it’s fair game. His back is to me and he’s grooving slightly in front of a table, a stereo on top of a sheet-covered stool in the corner of the room.