Wish I Were Here

Epilogue

One year later

W hen I step into the vast warehouse of ArtSpace, the first thing that hits me is the scent. It’s a bit musty, vaguely dank, and mixed with the sharp notes of oil paint and Chanel No. 5. But instead of leaving me disconcerted with memories of my childhood, it’s pleasant, comforting. I’ve spent more time in ArtSpace in the past year than I have since I was a kid. I usually come here about once a week now—to visit with Dad, but also to share a bottle of wine with Ginger Ale and to talk romance novels with Frenchy.

We all spent Christmas Eve at the Morellis’ last year, but Ginger still puts our presents under the bike that she’d dressed up in twinkling lights, and we came by on Christmas Day to keep traditions alive. And today, I’m here to celebrate ArtSpace’s thirtieth anniversary.

My gaze skates across the crowd of people, and I absently wonder if Melanie made it this time. Though she RSVPed, my mother actually shows up about fifty percent of the time that she says she will. But I think she’s trying as best she can.

It’s funny that I ever thought she was the reliable one, when actually, that title has to go to Luca. He’s still always late for things, but it’s usually because he’s driving someone to the pharmacy, helping out at the community center, or putting an older lady to bed.

I search for him in the crowd, and I find him standing with Dad. They’re talking and laughing—probably rehashing one of their adventures at Burning Man earlier this month. They had a blast.

I opted to stay home.

When Luca spots me across the crowd, his face lights up with that smile that’s just for me. He says something to Dad and heads in my direction. I greet him with a kiss.

“I thought you’d never get here, Moonstone,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows, and I laugh because this time, I’m the one who’s late.

“Radhika and I just found out that our paper was accepted to Studies in Applied Mathematics .”

Luca gives a yell and picks me up off my feet in a hug. “I knew it would.” He takes my hand. “Come on, let’s get some champagne to celebrate.”

As we cross the warehouse, I can’t help but notice that ArtSpace is sparkling like one giant burlesque costume come to life tonight. Uncle Vito sent his guys over earlier this week to get up on ladders, clean the windows, and install brand-new lighting. The aerialists spin on their overhead silks, the acrobats do flips, Mrs. Goodwin is leading the Macarena, and the community center’s juggling club tosses colorful balls in the air.

Luca and I pass by the gallery space, and he nudges me inside. It’s empty—I guess everyone is in the main room enjoying the performances—and I’m glad they’re otherwise occupied when he kisses me again.

“Catherine,” Luca murmurs against my mouth.

“Yes, Elbow?”

“I have something to show you.” He sounds nervous. Unsure.

I pull back. “What is it?”

He presses his lips together, looking in my eyes for just a moment, and then he steps back and waves a hand around the room. I look up and gasp.

On the walls are the most beautiful illustrations I’ve ever seen. Blue birds, and red flowers, and green vines, and butterflies with wings of every color of the rainbow skate across canvases hanging on the wall.

“Oh my God, Luca.” My wide-eyed gaze darts to his, and then to his painted arms, and then back to the walls. “These are yours ?” I knew he was spending more time at ArtSpace working on his illustrations, but I had no idea he was doing all of this.

“Ginger asked me to display them.” Luca smiles. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m surprised.” I gape at the walls again. “And I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m still just doing it for fun,” he says. “If Ginger sells any, I’m going to donate the money to the community center.” And that part doesn’t surprise me one bit. Because Luca is the most caring, thoughtful person I know, and of course he wants to use his art to help the people in his community. And then I remember that I’m meeting with the book club tomorrow, and I have to get the keys to the Town Car so I can take Mrs. Sterling to her doctor’s appointment the following day, and next week Mrs. Flowers wants me to stop by to look over her accounting spreadsheet.

Actually, it’s our community.

And that’s when I sense movement across the room. I look up, and my heart leaps into my throat. Next to me, I hear a gasp from Luca, and my hand reaches out to grab his. Because there in the doorway stands Sal, gazing around the gallery at Luca’s drawings. His face shines with pride as he slowly takes in each one.

Luca’s hand tightens on mine. “Grandpa?” he whispers.

Sal looks over at us, flashing a wide smile that so exactly matches Luca’s that I can’t believe I didn’t see the resemblance last year. He gives Luca a nod and a wave. And then he turns and shuffles back out into the main room, disappearing into the crowd.

We stand there for a moment, too stunned to speak. Finally, Luca’s gaze flickers to mine. “You saw him, right?”

“Yes,” I say breathlessly, turning to wrap my arms around Luca’s waist. He pulls me against him, his heart beating fast.

I never saw Sal after I got my identity back last year. I always hoped he’d show up again for Luca’s sake, but it never happened. Until now. Of course he came back now. Because nothing would mean more to Luca than knowing his grandpa approved of his art, that he was proud of him.

“Are you okay?” I take his face in my hands.

“Yes.” Luca sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “I’m a little sad. But he’ll be here whenever I need him.”

I know he will. That’s where his grandson gets it from.

“And in the meantime, I’m pretty sure he’s telling me to keep doing my art.”

I nod. “That’s definitely what he’s telling you.”

Luca cocks his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m actually really glad to hear you say that, Moonstone.” His hand slides up my back, and he taps a spot above my shoulder blade. “I’m thinking a hummingbird right here.”

His lips curve into that charming smile, and I find myself wavering. By this time next year, I’m pretty sure I’ll have a hummingbird on my shoulder. Because somehow, Luca can talk me into anything.