Giancarlo considered his cousin’s question for a moment, trying to decide how best to frame his response without giving offense. He gave a little cough. Ann was a perfectly charming lady, he had found, but in his estimation a bit too anxious to please. She let on early in their conversation that she was a fan of the Rhode Island Philharmonic Orchestra and attended their performances regularly. Her appreciation of music, Giancarlo could only surmise, was considered a prime qualification by those involved in this latest matchmaking foray, for it seemed the two had nothing else in common. Nonetheless he’d listened politely as she talked on and on, eventually learning that she had been divorced for two years, but with no children from the marriage. Though she dwelt on it for but a moment, this last fact seemed to trouble her more than she let on. He felt sorry for her because of it, but not enough to inspire in him any notions of helping her in that regard. In the end he had excused himself so that he might try some of the lamb chops Anthony had put out on the table. Ann had offered to make a plate for him, but he politely declined, and the two had mercifully drifted apart for the remainder of the day.

“She’s a very nice person,” Giancarlo finally said.

“But?” said Anthony expectantly.

Giancarlo hesitated.

“Well, it’s just that she was . . . I’m not sure how to say it, but I guess what I mean to say is that she seemed a bit . . . I don’t know if this is the right word, but—desperate?”

“Ha! I knew it!” cried his cousin. “I told Celeste the same exact thing just this morning, but would she listen to me? Nooo. ‘No, no, Anthony, you’ve got her all wrong,’ she told me. ‘I think she’s just what Giancarlo needs.’”

“I appreciate the thought,” Giancarlo offered in apology.

“Nonsense, don’t give it another thought,” intoned Anthony, with a wave of his hand. “I’m glad you saw things the same as I did. You have to be careful with women like her.Yes, yes, they can be all sweet and pretty and nice to talk to, but you have to watch out, because they’re like drowning swimmers. They always need to latch onto someone—anyone. If you get too close, they grab you and crawl all over you, and before you know it they pull you right down under the water with them.”

“Well I wouldn’t go quite that far,” chuckled Giancarlo, though he well might have.