Expiration Dating (22 page)

Epilogue

I made it to the south of Italy, Bari specifically, where my family was from. I’d planned to stay for two days before jetting off to explore Rome or Naples for the rest of the week, but I ended up staying for eight days. The first few days I was too jittery to do much. My emotions hadn’t quite returned to normal. After a few days, I began to unwind and appreciate the city. The people were friendly, the sea was beautiful and the food was delicious; it was just the distraction I needed to keep my mind off Andrew. 

I ate, drank, slept
and explored the countryside like a CD on repeat. When I was not busy, I’d make myself busy. I’d read or write, organize photos from the semester, anything to prolong acknowledging the fact that I was now alone.

When I returned to Milan
a week later, I was ready to go home.

I stepped
onto the plane and adjusted my bags in the overhead apartment. As I slipped into my seat, I pulled out my Italian phone before the warning lights came on, forcing us to turn off all electronics. I turned it over in my hand, realizing I had no use for it anymore. In a sudden moment of inspiration I typed out one last text.

I
selected Andrew’s Italian number for the recipient line.

The message
read:

I know you’ll probably
never get this, but if you do– I just wanted to say good bye. I’m leaving Italy now, and I already miss you. I am so thankful that we met. Even if you get this and we’ve never spoken again, just know that I really, really loved you.              

             
The plane’s wheels lifted off the ground as I tried to hide the illuminated screen. I jolted my leg up and down, probably annoying the passengers next to me, praying for the confirmation ding. When I saw the
sent
notification, I shut off my Italian phone for good. I leaned back, accepting a glass of water from the stewardess.

I closed my eyes, reflecting on my last week
alone. I hadn’t had any contact with Andrew as the internet in the south of Italy was sketchy at best, and I couldn’t access email or Facebook. I had no idea what to expect when I landed, but I was beginning to realize I’d be okay with it.

Italy had been a miraculous experience, and instead of
starting my new life in America discouraged and down, I needed to accept that the last six months had been a blessing, an amazing experience, and now it was time to move on. Take the memories with me, surely, but move on to a new adventure. I was a different person now than I was when I’d first stepped foot onto the plane.

I was
Dana, once again.

America

I could feel the droplets of sweat sliding down my rib cage as I stood outside the Minneapolis terminal, clad in my pea coat, high heels and poufy sweatshirt; all items I’d been forced to wear thanks to lack of storage space in my suitcase. I looked at the pile of luggage and let my shoulders slump even further.

I’d hoped to see my family waiting at the gate. I had even let myself daydream that my grandma would join them, a small welcoming
home party. Maybe my sisters would make a sign or my mom bring a flower.

Forty-five minutes after retrieving my bags there was still no sign of my family.

I glanced down at my Italian phone, useless in this country. My American phone account had been frozen when I left to go abroad and wouldn’t work until I reactivated it from a landline. I heaved myself to my feet, drudging across the terminal, scouting out a pay phone. I’d always wondered who still used them; now, I knew. I reached into my pocket and dug out some change. I groaned; I only had Euro coins.

Sliding my luggage back to
nearby bench, I spotted a girl I’d gone to college with; we weren’t friends, but I knew her name.

“Stephanie!”

“Dana! Oh my gosh, what are you doing here? I’m just getting back from my semester in Boston.”

“I’m just getting back from Italy, actually.” I gave her a quick side-arm hug. “I have a quick favor to ask, could I use your phone? Mine is still out of order.”

“Totally.” She handed her neon-pink encased phone over.

I dialed and turned away to make the call.

“Hello?” My mother’s voice washed through the earpiece.

“Hi, M
om.”

“Dana?”

“Yes.”

“Are you? Oh, gosh.”

I tapped my foot, “Did you, uh, forget I came home today?”

“No, no.
” I heard scurried movements in the background. I could imagine her gesticulating wildly toward my dad. I heard a door slam.

“No, of course we didn’t forget,” she continued. “Your dad’s on hi
s way right now. I just thought… funny, I had it on the calendar for tomorrow.”

“Alright, well I’ll see you soon. I’m on a friend’s phone.”

“Great. Wow, glad you caught me. We were just about to head out the door to pick out some carpeting.”

“I’ll see ya soon, M
om.”

I hung up and handed the phone back to Stephanie.

“Thanks a lot,” I said.

“Sure, everything okay? Do you need a ride?”

“No, my dad’s on his way. He’s just running a little late.”

“Okay, great to see you.” I watched as she ran towards her mother’s car, wrapping her arms around her waiting family, the sign in her sibling’s hand standing out bright and clear on the yellow poster board.

Welcome home, Steph!

My dad arrived thirty minutes later and helped me put my bags into the car. His hug was better late than never, and I relished the moment as if I were a young girl again.

Turns out my mom work
ed fast, and by the time I got home she’d arranged a dinner with my sisters, grandparents, Sasha, Tess and Nikki. The lively chatter grew louder with each course as I filled them in on my various anecdotes and adventures; I had more to say than I expected. On the other hand, I was surprised by how little they had to say.

It was strange
that their lives seemed so
normal.
It was like nothing had changed over the last six months except for a few more classes, a few more job hours, a few more nights at the bar. It was the oddest feeling; like I had crammed a lifetime into six months, while nobody else seemed to notice the passing of time. I longed for the friends that would understand, the friends I could talk to about the experience without having to relay a story, without trying to entertain.

In the middle of a
story about Mount Etna, my American phone rang. I thought it was strange since I had just reactivated it an hour ago and hadn’t told anyone I was home yet. Everyone that I knew was at the dinner table in front of me. I excused myself and strode into the bedroom, hesitating before I looked at the screen. My heart fluttered and my pulse raced, I barely dared to hope.

I looked at the caller’s name
.

Andrew.

I smiled.

THE END