I promised to let you know.

After writing yesterday’s blogpost, I went about my business for an hour or so, texted my cousin Liz that I’d had no luck so far, then sat down to do something or other.  I’d bothered St. Anthony enough for one day, so I tried to distract myself with some last-minute online shopping. 

Not five minutes into the shopping trip, an image began to coalesce in my head. I was upstairs, in one of the guest rooms, moving things around in the closet so that my cousins could use it. I picked up the bin that held my summer shoes (espadrilles!) and put it down in the far corner of the closet. Then, miraculously, the Aha! moment:  I realized that the books were in that closet. I’d checked the closet at least three times before, of course, but always the shelves,  never the floor, in that corner.

I bounded up the stairs, turned on the closet light, and picked up the bin. And there they were: two copies of Tony’s Wife. One to give, one to keep for myself.

Ah, sweet relief! I had not lost my mind. St. Anthony had not failed me. Liz, who the night before had said, “You’ll find them tomorrow,” was right. 

Plus, and no small accomplishment this, the bookshelves were dust-free.

Life is good.

Note: If you want to read more about why I love Adriana Trigiani’s books so much, read this post from last year.