In the few weeks since Tess’ arrival, she and Paolo had fallen into the pleasant routine of having merienda together at Horseshoe
Drive. Sometimes he’d bring two fat ensaymada or half a dozen lumpia, still hot to the touch. If not, Tess would shoo the cook out of the kitchen, pull out a cast-iron pan, and make two
American-style grilled cheese sandwiches. “Thought you couldn’t cook,” said Paolo between bites.
“Unfortunately, this is the extent of my talents,” Tess confessed. She resisted the urge to complain about Tonio’s weekly criticism of her culinary skills, slammed the spatula
down on the grilled cheese, and tried to release the tension in her neck. She knew that taking this trip was the right decision— for both of them. She had to let Tonio go, and it was easier
to do it from ha
