With a yawn, Carter pulled his legs over the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. He rolled his neck around and stretched his arms, conscious all the while of the lingering nervous twinge in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping to dispel the feeling, but still it remained. Why, he wondered, did he have such dreams? Had he not just graduated from college and put all those worries about exams and papers behind him? He puzzled over it, until his gaze fell upon the little cassette player and headphones lying on the floor beside the bed. Then he understood. Inside the player was the latest Italian tape his professor had lent him. It was the last in the series, and he had meant to listen to it that previous night before going to sleep, but he had been too tired to do so. In truth, he had put aside his Italian studies and done nothing but sleep late and relax on the beach over the weekend. Carter truly enjoyed his Italian lessons and had lost none of his fervor to learn the language, but he was growing weary from the daily grind, and the three-day respite from construction work and his studies had come at a propitious juncture. He had needed the rest.

Nonetheless, sitting there on the edge of the bed, Carter now regretted the lost time. He had promised his professor that he would come prepared for his lesson later that day, but he had instead frittered away three precious days. It was already July 7. Officially, summer was barely three weeks old, but time had a way of taking flight in July. Look the other way for a moment and it would be gone. There was, as Giancarlo had told him, much that remained for him to learn and little time to do it. From here on in Carter knew he could not afford to let any more days slip through his fingers. With that nagging thought in mind, he arose, vowing to apply himself all the harder in the weeks to come.

When he arrived at Giancarlo’s house later that evening—after his usual mad dash home to change after work—Carter was relieved to find his professor in much better spirits than when they last parted company. Giancarlo came to the door and greeted him with what appeared to be sincere cordiality.

“Buona sera, Signor Quinn,” he said, waving him inside. “Entra!”

“Buona sera, Professore,” answered Carter, glad that the black cloud that had descended over their last meeting had apparently lifted. He stepped inside and started down the hall into the living room, where they normally met.