There is so much that Jenny and her grandfather share: summers at the beach, clam digging, picnics together, gelato at Tonio's, searching for shells and sage advice:
"Do you see, my little biscotti," said Grandfather, "how Miss Priscilla Lodge's mother keeps her from venturing very far? Sheltered under that big blue umbrella, she may never discover Tonio's gelato, or taste fresh mozzarella on a clam again, or be allowed to talk to a gerbil. She is learning to be afraid of anything outside her own world."
He regales her with stories of his arrival in the United States from his native Italy, and creates a picture of the life he led as a young man. Boston was a wondrous place to him, and became equally wondrous to Jenny as she followed him from place to place, meeting his friends and visiting his favorite haunts:
"In that way I learned Boston. I learned all the mice in the city and what they did to make a living. Grandfather tipped his hat to Senator Lodge himself and the Cabot housemaids, the fried-seed vendor, and the poorest rat who swept the sewers. Grandfather said hello to the world. I learned to say hello, too, in that way that made the world smile back."
He taught her everything he knew about shells, especially the queen's teacup shell. They were in a constant search for one of those beauties. So, when her much-loved grandfather dies, Jenny is bereft and sees him in all of their favorite places, always longing for more time together. One day she follows a mouse that she thinks is him, and barely escapes a watery death. No more, say her parents and she must be content:
"I did not try again. Instead I made a little bed for myself in Grandfather's old wardrobe. I slept under his favorite jackets, which smelled of him, and read his newspaper stories and letters from home, pasted so long ago on the inside walls."
Lovely, absolutely lovely...
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