“Niente,” Giancarlo cut him short. He paused. His demeanor softening ever so slightly, he put the map aside and added, “It was nothing. Let us get back to business.”

And so the Italian lesson continued, but with little of its former enthusiasm on the part of student or teacher. An awkward feeling still prevailed, and it hung there in the air like a thick mist that dampened their spirits.Though both did their best, it soon became clear that there was little more progress to be made that day, and so it was just as well that at last Giancarlo decided to end things a few minutes early.

When it came time to leave, Carter collected his jacket and made his way to the door with little fanfare. “So, see you next week?” he asked tentatively, for suddenly he was not at all certain that this would still be the case.

“Yes, of course,” said Giancarlo tersely with a dismissive wave. “Monday afternoon. Be prepared.”

“Hey, I’m an old Boy Scout,” Carter reminded him with a smile. “I’m always prepared.”

He hoped a bit of levity might help the situation, perhaps lift the dark cloud that had inexplicably descended over the proceedings. From the dour look still on his teacher’s face, he judged that the desired result had eluded him. Not knowing what else to say, he tugged on his jacket, wished his teacher a pleasant Fourth of July, and then went on his way, perplexed by the puzzling turn of events. Of one thing, however, he felt quite certain. His teacher had been entirely correct. There obviously did remain much that he needed to learn.

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 13

“Sounds like you struck a nerve,” said Jimmy.

“You think?” chuckled Carter.

The two were in the gym. It was Thursday, the day before the Fourth of July, and Carter had just recounted the curious incident that had taken place the previous evening at his most recent Italian lesson.While he rested between sets of bench pressing, he watched his friend, who was standing before the mirrored wall, a forty-pound dumbbell clutched in each hand. Keeping his elbows tucked against his sides, Jimmy hoisted the weight in his right hand to his chin and slowly let it back down to his side before doing the same with the left hand.Thus he alternated back and forth, puffing out his breath with each repetition, all the while keeping careful watch on the reflection of his biceps in the mirror. He squeezed out several repetitions on each arm before dropping the dumbbells back onto the rack. His gaze still fixed on the mirror, he brought his clenched fists toward his midsection and flexed his arms, turning from one side to the other to get a good view of each.

“My hero,” joked Carter in a high-pitched voice that sounded more feline than feminine.