Read Online Italian for Beginners by Kristin Harmel - Free Book Online

talk about you for a minute.”
    I took a bite of my bagel and ignored him. “The bagels are great this morning,” I said cheerfully.
    “Cat…” My father looked at me sternly.
    “What?” I played innocent.
    Dad rested his chin in his hand and shook his head slowly at me. “You need to make some changes.”
    I set my bagel down. “What is this, an intervention?”
    “I think you need more than one person for an intervention.”
    “Okay, so it’s a really bad intervention.”
    “Cat,” he said. “It’s not an intervention. But Becky and I have talked about it, and we have a suggestion for you.”
    “You and Becky talked about me?” I asked.
    He frowned. “You can let other people help you sometimes, too, you know,” he said. “You don’t always have to take care of
     everyone.”
    “Okay. So what’s your big suggestion for how to change my life?” I took a giant, defiant bite of my pumpernickel bagel, steeling
     myself for what was to come. Had they signed me up for speed dating? Posted my profile to several online sites? Sent up a
     blimp with my number, photo, and a message that screamed,
Desperate and dysfunctional? Call Cat Connelly!
    My dad took a bite of his bagel and avoided meeting my gaze. “Go to Italy,” he said with his mouth full.
    I swallowed too soon and choked on my bagel. After a moment spent dislodging a giant chunk of creamy pumpernickel from my
     throat and downing half the glass of water my father had jumped up to pour me, I wiped my eyes and repeated, “Um… go to Italy?
     What are you talking about?” I had the disturbing thought that my father had turned into a mind reader and knew I’d been obsessing
     over Francesco last night.
    My father looked surprisingly calm. “It’s the place where you were the happiest,” he said. “Becky and I think it would be
     good for you to go back there for a little while.”
    “What are you talking about? I’m happy right here.”
    He just gave me a look. “Cat.”
    “What? I am.”
    “Oh, yes, I can tell,” he said. “This is what you’ve always dreamed of. Working fifty-hour weeks at a dull job and delivering
     me pumpernickel bagels every Sunday morning while your love life goes down the drain.”
    “I take offense to that.” I paused. “All of that.”
    My father sighed. “Look. You certainly have the vacation time saved up. And knowing you, you have plenty of room on your credit
     cards.”
    “I do not,” I responded. “Are you forgetting I just bought an apartment?” It had been one of my proudest accomplishments yet;
     I had scrimped and saved for a decade to put enough away for a down payment late last year on a one-bedroom on the Upper East
     Side.
    “You didn’t pay for your apartment on your credit cards,” Dad reminded me.
    “No,” I grumbled. “But I save my credit for emergencies. And I’ve been using my cards to make ends meet while I earn back
     some of the money I spent on the down payment, okay?”
    “So spend a thousand on a plane ticket and another fifteen hundred on a month in a hotel.”
    “Wait, you want me to go to Rome for a
month
?”
    “You can’t change your life in a week,” he said. “Go over for a few weeks, at least. Make it worth your while.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said flatly.
    My dad looked away. “Maybe it’ll give you some time to deal with your issues with your mother, too.”
    “My
issues
with my
mother
?” I asked, standing up.
    “Stop being so dramatic,” my father said. “Sit down.”
    I glared at him for a moment and then slowly sank back into my chair. “I don’t have any issues with my mother,” I said softly.
    “Aside from hating her,” my father said nonchalantly. He wrapped his hands around mine before I could move to protest again.
     “Relax, Cat. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. But maybe you could pay a visit to her family while you’re there. Maybe
     they can help you to understand that she never meant to hurt you.