He ate lunch at a sidewalk pizzeria, where he had a pleasant conversation with an elderly Italian woman from the town who wanted to know why he spoke such good Italian for an American, then invited him over to meet the family, which he carefully declined as he had an appointment back at home.

On his way from town he passed a hotel. He stopped and stared at it: Albergo dei Gigli (Hotel of the Lilies). He must have passed it on the way in, but hadn’t noticed it then. Why did it seem so familiar to him? The longer he looked at it the more convinced he became that he had seen it before.

He walked up to its glass doorway and stepped inside. The lobby was small, marble floored. A red-and-gold rug led to a dark walnut registration counter, the wall behind it emboldened with a bright brass lily—the symbol of Florence.

Suddenly it occurred to him why it was familiar. This was one of the hotels he had seen in a travel guide four years ago. It was one of the hotels that she had chosen for their honeymoon.

The man behind the counter spoke. “May I help you, sir?”

Ross looked at him, momentarily speechless. “No. I’m in the wrong place.”

His heart raced. He walked out of the hotel and stood in the street, directionless as if suddenly lost. Two worlds had unexpectedly collided. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This hotel was to be a pleasant memory pasted in a photo album, not a reminder of all he had lost. He held his hand over his face until his thoughts calmed then walked back to his scooter.

It was past six when he arrived at Rendola. Alessio was in the corner of the courtyard kicking a soccer ball against the wall, its dull thud echoing in the square. Ross stopped to watch, his hands in his pockets.

“Looks like you’re pretty good.”

Alessio coughed. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“The other kids call me lumaca. I can’t run very fast. Sometimes I run out of breath.”

Ross frowned, watched him kick the ball. Lumaca, he repeated to himself. He’d have to look it up. “May I see the ball?”

He kicked it to Ross.

Ross picked it up and spun it in his hands like a basketball. “Do you ever watch American football?”

He shook his head.

“Do you know how they play football?”

He shook his head again.