Ordinary World by Elisa Lorello

wants. We need you. Please,” she cried.
     
    I paused for a long beat. “I’ll think about it,” I said, and hung up moments later.
     
    “She doesn’t understand,” I said aloud, and immediately felt ashamed of myself for even thinking such a thing, much less saying it. Maybe she was right about self-absorption. I felt ugly at that moment.
     
    Melody agreed with Mags all the way. Maggie even called the travel agency herself and explained the situation. They said they would transfer the tickets to any date I wanted. Miranda offered to house-sit and look after Donny Most. I re-booked the trip for the week of spring break week next semester.
     
    Sometimes I even found myself looking forward to it.
     

    Chapter Fifteen
     
    Five months later
     
    March – Spring Break
     

    I’ D SPENT THE LAST FOUR MONTHS TRYING TO LEARN conversational Italian without much luck; all my intermediate Spanish from my college days kept creeping in. Piero let me sit in on his Italian 101 class whenever I wanted. He had a glorious accent, which, I noticed, distracted many of his female students and one of the males who was gay. They all swooned while he conjugated verbs pertaining to dining out. (“What can I bring you?” “Do you have any wine?” “I want to eat spaghetti and meatballs.”) He was also very handsome and looked a little like Hugh Jackman with jet-black hair. One day, to my surprise, I caught myself thinking about him conjugating verbs with his shirt off.
     
    I decided it was imperative to learn some key phrases: “Where’s the bathroom?” “Where can I buy bottled water?” “No wine, please—it makes me ill.” “I am trying to find my hotel, Ecco Roma.” And “On behalf of my country, I apologize for Starbucks.”
     
    Miranda told me to buy cheap cotton underwear and throw them out every day so I wouldn’t have to worry about going through customs with a suitcase full of dirty panties on the way home. I packed all of my jeans and Sam’s shirts and sweaters and his aviator jacket—I had taken to wearing his clothes on a regular basis. It killed me to have to wash them; I didn’t want to lose the smell of him. Buy shoes once I’m there, Miranda said. Shoes and a leather jacket.
     
    Melody tried to ease my mind about flying with no success. The furthest I had ever flown was to San Francisco for a conference, and that was three years ago. I nearly hyperventilated when the plane hit some turbulence. Even Sam’s holding my hand and steady voice were not enough to comfort me. Since then, I insisted on attending conferences via train if the driving distance was too far. For our honeymoon, Sam and I had driven up to Canada. On the way home we were ready to kill each other. Funny, I had forgotten about that. Fourteen hours in the car was enough for both of us to seriously consider getting an annulment.
     
    Melody gave me a mediation CD, a homeopathic remedy, and mantras to silently recite on the plane. I bought two packs of Dramamine, two packs of gum, and downloaded all of my Nat King Cole CDs, Italian language tutorials, and the meditation into my iPod. I also wrote my will on my laptop, but didn’t get it notarized. At first, in a bout of silliness, I left everything to the cat. Then I left it all to my mother with instructions to let her sort it out.
     
    Miranda drove me to Logan airport. Piero accompanied us and gave me a list of places to go as well as a couple of letters to deliver for him. He also kissed me on both cheeks which, again to my surprise, sent a quick flash of heat up my spine. Miranda hugged me. Maggie had called the night before to wish me well.
     
    “I wish you were going with me,” I practically whimpered.
     
    “You’ll be fine. You need to do this on your own.”
     
    I took two Dramamine thirty minutes before my flight was called. As I walked through the corridor to the plane, my knees weakened with panic. Just as I stepped onto the plane, I froze.
     
    “Are you okay,