The Summer I Met Jack by Michelle Gable

Author:Michelle Gable
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

JUNE 2016

ROME

“Let me grab the post,” Serena Palmisano says to the tall American boy as she fumbles with her mailbox.

It’s odd she does this now. Sometimes she goes days—weeks—without checking. But for some reason, she is compelled. Perhaps it’s because of the mail carrier, who materialized from behind a potted plant, giving Serena a minor fright. He seemed similarly alarmed to encounter her. God forbid someone catch an Italian postal worker doing his job.

“Bella,” he’d said with a nervous twitch before hurrying off.

“Was that a mailman?” the American had asked.

The American’s name is Lee Perenchio and they’ve known each other for one week.

“Yes, of course,” she’d answered.

Now Serena slides out her mail. There are a few flyers, a bank statement, and an envelope addressed to her in purple ink. She thinks to throw it out but the bin is overflowing.

“He delivered one letter?” Lee asks, still stuck on the postman.

Serena has taught him much about the vagaries of Roman life. Like how traffic lights are suggestions and it’s best to follow a nun across the street to avoid being squashed. But the postal system is something else entirely.

“Allora,” she says, “the successful delivery of one letter is a banner day in the Italian postal regime. Come, follow me.”

She moves toward the stairs.

At the landing, Serena peers through the window, toward the courtyard where the mail carrier is scuttling off. Lee Perenchio might have a point, she thinks. The mailman doesn’t have a bag. Then again, somebody somewhere is probably on strike.

When they reach the apartment, Serena pulls out her keys and begins to unlock. Lee ogles the nine-bolt system. She explains that crime is rampant, even on Margutta. Lee shakes his head. He will never get used to this city.

Serena opens the door, wondering if she’ll regret bringing this stranger to her flat. She hopes he doesn’t expect any funny business. Then again, maybe she wants funny business, which is why she brought him here.

Meanwhile, Lee is still mulling over the locks. Somehow, he is always one step behind, which is why he’s so frequently in danger of being hit by motorinos.

When they walk inside, Serena throws her post onto the kitchen table. Her eyes shift toward the letter. It is mangled and much abused. Also: who hand-addresses an envelope these days? Never mind that, who writes a letter and then posts it? It’s quaint, almost. Like a wartime telegram.

“Your apartment is gorgeous,” Lee says, admiring the parquet floors, white walls, and arched doorways.

Serena nods. The home has undeniable charm, even with Nonna’s mismatched furniture, French telephones, and quirky objets d’art. One day she’ll clear out Nova’s things, but Serena can’t muster the resolve quite yet. Her grandmother’s not been dead that long.

“Grazie,” Serena says, stalking back toward her mail. “It’s a bit cluttered, especially with the newspaper clippings on the walls. I don’t have the heart to take them down.”

Again, she regards the funny envelope and finds herself unable to leave it be. As Lee inspects one of her

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