“No, aspetta,” said Giancarlo, bringing him to a stop. Gesturing for Carter to follow, he led him through the house past the kitchen and out to the screened-in back porch. The porch was simply furnished, with a rattan sofa and two chairs flanking a small table, upon which rested a pitcher of iced water, two glasses, and a plate of bread sticks. Outdoors the breeze was picking up, and the early evening air filtered through the screened windows just enough to make it a more comfortable setting for their talk than the stuffy confines of the living room.

“Fa un po più fresco qui,” explained Giancarlo, motioning for him to take a seat. “It’s a little cooler here than inside.”

“Works for me,” agreed Carter. He sat down at the table and eyed the pitcher of water.

“Prenda,” said Giancarlo, gesturing for Carter to help himself.

“Grazie,” replied Carter. He poured a glass of water and slid it over to Giancarlo before filling the other for himself. He downed a gulp of water and gave a sigh of relief.

“A hot day at work, I would imagine,” said Giancarlo.

“Oh yeah,” chuckled Carter. “There’s no air-conditioning in my office at work.”

“Bah, air-conditioning,” huffed Giancarlo with a dismissive wave. “Perhaps it’s a good thing for the sick and the very old, but for a healthy person I think it’s much better to just let your body adapt to the weather.This going from hot to cold and cold to hot is no good.”

“You’re probably right,” shrugged Carter. “But lately it seems like I just go from hot to hot. A little cold now and then wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Giancarlo assured him. He reached for his glass of water, took a sip, and sat back. “So, I trust you had a pleasant holiday,” he said, eyeing Carter thoughtfully.

“Not bad,” said Carter with a shrug. “We had our traditional family cookout at my parents’ beach house on the Fourth. That was fun. Other than that, I mostly just hung out by the shore and took it easy the rest of the weekend. Nothing special.”

Inside, Carter cringed a little, for he was certain that his professor was about to inquire as to whether he had kept up his studies over the past five days. He knew it was silly for him to be concerned. After all he was paying for the lessons out of his own pocket. Just the same, he could not help feeling like a schoolboy who had just brought home a bad arithmetic test for his mother to sign.

“That’s good,” said Giancarlo instead. “In that case your mind should be well rested and ready to get back to work.” He picked up a pencil and tapped it against his notepad. “So, where did we leave off last time?” he said, perusing his notes.