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But it won’t work. I am staring squinty-eyed right back at him, while Holly and Mark argue over whether they should let either of us come with them. Mark says it will give us a chance to try one of the Roman restaurants Holly’s uncle recommended in the Guide to Roma book Mark found back at the villa.

But Holly says it’s our vacation too, and we shouldn’t have to spend it shuttling back and forth between Rome and Le Marche in a Toyota. Even though this time there won’t be a suitcase in the backseat, since it’s just a day trip.

I could see Cal wasn’t going to back down, so I said, “I happen to be extremely fond of Toyotas,” causing Holly to look at me and go, “Oh, God, what’s WRONG with you? And what are you writing in that book?”

I’ve been outed. More later.

Travel Diary of Jane Harris

Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

Jane Harris

The horror continues.

As soon as Cal got up to go use the facilities himself just now, I told Mark if he was any kind of friend he’d tell Cal to stay home at the villa with me (even though I don’t want him there, as it will mean spending the day alone with him while Holly and Mark are off US consulating tomorrow, but whatever). Also, that he should tell Cal his shirt looks gay. Mark pointed out that he had already encouraged Cal to stay home to no avail, and that the shirt is from Bangladesh and it’s the only clean thing left in Cal’s backpack. Apparently, he’s sweet-talked Frau Schumacher into doing his laundry while we eat.

I can’t believe he’d take advantage of that sweet old lady’s crush on him in such an obvious ma

Still.

At least the food is good. REALLY good. Even when it’s prepared by someone who won’t take their eyes off Babe. Although Cal and I both eschewed the raw oysters, Cal because he doesn’t like them, and me because I may be a travel neophyte, but I am not eating raw fish in a foreign country. Holly and Mark were both like, “Oh, well, more for us,” and slurped down like twenty each.

Whatever. It’s their funeral.

After this, since it’s stopped raining, we’re going to get gelati from the Gelateria and take a moonlit walk along the beach. Romantic! Well, for Holly and Mark.

Uh-oh, back to the Who’s Going To Rome Tomorrow argument….

Who buys their shirts in BANGLADESH??? What is wrong with the Gap, for God’s sake?

___________________________________________

e-mails

To: Jane Harris >

Fr: Claire Harris

Re: Holly

Hi, honey! Don’t worry, everything’s fine. Well, I mean, your dad burst a blood vessel in his eye just now trying to move the stereo, but he says it doesn’t even hurt.

Anyway, I hope I didn’t mess anything up, but I saw Marie Caputo in the grocery store just now, and she was down in the mouth as usual about Holly (and telling me how lucky I was that you only date boys like Dave—whatever happened to him, anyway? He was so sweet) and I might have mentioned something about how she shouldn’t think of Holly’s marrying Mark as losing a daughter, but as gaining a son.

Then I remembered she’s not supposed to know anything about Holly marrying Mark this week.

I hope I didn’t let the cat out of the bag, or anything!

And as for that Cal, well, I agree, Saudi Arabia is a very boring subject for a book.

But still, he looked quite nice in that turtleneck he was wearing on Charlie Rose . I think it might have been cashmere. I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to give the boy a chance.

And what do you mean, I shouldn’t worry about him falling in love with you? I don’t want to hear that kind of negative talk from you, young lady. You know you’re irresistible. At least when you don’t have PMS and you wear your hair out of your eyes.

Love,

Mom

___________________________________________

To: Claire Harris

Fr: Jane Harris >





Re: Holly

MOM! THIS IS REALLY REALLY BAD!!!! I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY ANYTHING!!!

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE TO ANYONE UNTIL I TELL YOU IT’S OK!

AND DON’T GO TO THE KROGER SAV-ON OR ANYWHERE ELSE WHERE YOU MIGHT MEET HOLLY’S MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

J

___________________________________________

To: Darrin Caputo

Fr: Jane Harris >

Re: Your mother

Oh my God, Darrin, does your mother know? About Holly and Mark, I mean? Because I think my mother might have spilled something. YOU know, right? I mean about them—

Oh my God, what if you’re not supposed to know either? Holly will KILL me if she finds out I told. She really wanted to surprise you, on account of all those times you kidded her that she would settle on one guy.

But whatever, this is an emergency. Holly’s been acting all weird since this afternoon, kind of down, and I think it might be because she heard from your mother. Darrin, Holly and Mark are eloping this week! But everything is going wrong! The marriage license people here in Le Marche aren’t cooperating and your uncle’s oven doesn’t work and there’s this friend of Mark’s who keeps saying the meanest things and—

Well, never mind all that. Anyway, you have GOT to keep your mom from figuring out what’s going on, because I don’t think Holly can take much more. Can you do something to throw her off the scent? Pretend you and Bobby are adopting or something?

Oh, I know! Tell her you’re going to have a sex change operation!!! YES!!! Transgenderism will TOTALLY distract her!

Thanks, Darrin, you’re the best! I’ll write when I know more….

AND DON’T TELL HOLLY I TOLD!!!! WHEN YOU HEAR SHE’S MARRIED, ACT SURPRISED!!!!!!!!!!!

J

Travel Diary of Jane Harris

Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

Jane Harris

AAAARRRGH. MOTHERS. I mean, I love her and everything— how great is it to have someone in your life who, every time you complain about a guy, is all, “He must be secretly in love with you, that’s why he’s acting that way”?—but she has the BIGGEST MOUTH.

I mean, this is a CRISIS, her spilling the beans—well, sort of, anyway—to Mrs. Caputo.

And really, it’s my own fault, because I never should have said anything to her in the first place… to Mom, I mean. She hasn’t been able to hold a secret since… well, ever.

I just don’t know how to fix it. This new crisis, I mean. This is something Frau Schumacher’s not going to be able to shout at anybody about until it’s, you know, done.

As soon as I got that email I went to Holly and Mark’s room—Holly went to bed as soon as we got home from the restaurant, saying she had a headache… and no wonder, if she’d heard from her mother the way I suspected she had— and tapped on the door, since I knew Mark was down on the terrazza having a nightcap with Cal.

Anyway, Holly called “Come in” all weakly—she looked awful! Just AWFUL! I asked her if she’d heard from her mom and she said she had, and I said I was sorry and that it was all my fault.

Holly was just sweet as could be, and told me not to worry, that she didn’t blame me a bit….

But it’s all my fault. I just know it.

“I’m starting to think this wedding’s just not to be, anyway,” Holly said.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I told her that she HAS to marry Mark. That if she doesn’t, it will shake my faith in romantic love to its very core. That the two of them were made for each other. I mean, look at the way he has those really big feet, and hers are so little and dainty! And look how she hates tomatoes and he loves them, and he hates sauerkraut and she loves it…. They routinely finish each other’s plates.