11
Lago di Como, 2010
Ruby opened the old address book that she’d carried for decades and ran her finger over blue fountain pen ink that had faded over the years. A piece of paper slipped out, and she bent over to pick it up off the bedroom floor. Pages crisscrossed with yellowed cellophane tape barely held together now.
She unfolded the paper, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. Ruby turned a page with care. In her hands, she held the private telephone numbers of family and friends and fellow stars. Names and numbers were crossed out, written over, added. She didn’t like the electronic gizmos Mari used, or the digital addresses Ariana kept in her phone. This worn book that had traveled the world with her was a reliable friend filled with memories and notes.
“Where is it?” Ruby thu
