Love, Lucy

by April Lindner

  IX

  Are you all right?” Jesse asked Lucy after they sat down together in the back row of the bus. Luckily, Charlene and Ellen had grabbed seats up front. The bus was fairly crowded, which gave Lucy and Jesse the illusion of privacy.

  “I’m okay,” Lucy said.

  “You don’t seem okay,” he replied. “What did she say to you up there?”

  Though Charlene’s words echoed in Lucy’s head, she didn’t want to repeat them. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m just sorry she ruined our afternoon together.”

  “We still have tonight,” Jesse said. Then he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer, and she relaxed into him. Breathing in his scent—wind and crushed mint leaves, almonds and earth—she felt a little better.

  Unfortunately, Jesse had to work the front desk from four to eight. Back up in her room, Lucy pretended to nap while Charlene bustled around, changing clothes for dinner. Only after Lucy was alone did she get up and survey the contents of her drawers. The pickings were slim. Luckily, she had one nice item in reserve: the sundress she had brought along in case of a special occasion, white splashed with red poppies. Lucy held the dress up to her shoulders and checked out the effect in the full-length mirror.

  I’ll make sure I look my best tonight, she thought, doing a little twirl. Even if this is just a fling, tonight will be the best, most romantic night of my entire vacation. She practiced her widest, brightest smile. Tonight she would play the part of the girl in a romantic comedy. She would be charming and flirty, and she’d make herself forget that this movie couldn’t possibly have a happy ending.

  The sight of Jesse pacing in front of the hostel, freshly shaved and wearing a crisp white shirt and black trousers, brought a smile to Lucy’s face. He looked handsome and just a bit nervous, the streetlight beaming down on him like a spotlight.

  Eyes wide, he took her in. “Hey,” he said.

  Lucy had taken her time getting ready, pulling her curls into a high ponytail, leaving a few tendrils free. She even put on makeup and perfume. “Hey yourself,” she said. “Where shall we go?”

  Jesse suggested a walk down to the Arno. Lucy agreed, and he took her hand. As they walked back to the river, she realized that she now knew the way by heart. The streets were still busy. Lucy and Jesse took the first bridge they came to, the Ponte alla Carraia, stopping in the middle to take in the view. All along the water, a string of streetlights sparkled, the reflection glittering like the second strand of a necklace. Two bridges over, the Ponte Vecchio basked in a warm golden glow.

  Lucy sighed deeply. Just then she caught sight of something—some kind of flickering light—floating toward them above the velvety black river. It looked like a candle flame riding the breeze. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jesse replied. They watched as it soared slowly toward them. A moment later, a second light appeared behind it, then a third. “Paper lanterns?” he guessed.

  “I wonder how they fly,” Lucy said. “And how they keep from burning up.”

  They stood there, side by side, in silence. I hate so much for this to be over, Lucy thought. The words echoed so loudly in her head that she said them out loud. Immediately she wished she hadn’t. Though she’d been talking about her trip, about Florence, she saw right away how Jesse might have misunderstood her words, might have thought that by this she meant something else: the two of them. The last thing she wanted was to seem clingy. I don’t mean us, she considered saying. But the words wouldn’t have been entirely true, so she didn’t speak them.

  In the silence that spread between them, Lucy had time to feel disappointment and embarrassment, time to wonder if maybe Charlene had been right after all. Just then an evening breeze kicked up, and she hugged herself for warmth.

  She was just about to suggest they head back to the hostel when Jesse spoke up. “So, I asked Signora Bertolini if I could have the rest of the week off. I thought for sure she would say no, but she surprised me. I pulled a lot of double shifts last month. I guess she feels she owes me a favor.”

  “Oh?” Lucy said, unsure of why he thought she should care. She turned her attention to the last of the floating paper lanterns quivering in the distance.

  Jesse looked at her closely, as though trying to gauge her reaction.

  “Were you planning to travel?” she finally asked, fixing her gaze on his forehead, trying very hard to be polite.

  Jesse’s mouth twitched in what looked like a nervous smile. “That depends,” he said. “I was thinking—well, hoping, really—that I could come to Rome with you,” he explained. “If you want me to.”

  “Oh,” Lucy said again. All the blood seemed to rush to her face at once. Charlene was wrong! she thought. “Oh.”

  “I’m not trying to be pushy.” Jesse’s words came out in a rush. “I’ll understand if you don’t want—”

  “But I do.”

  Jesse reached for her and she melted into his arms.

  “You don’t think Charlene will mind?” he said after a while.

  “I don’t care what she thinks anymore,” Lucy said, with more certainty than she felt. Then she rested her cheek against his crisp cotton shirt. “Where will you stay?”

  “I can get us a room,” he said. “You and me. Would that be okay?”

  Lucy nodded. The thought of sharing a room with Jesse made her tremble, and her trembling made him tighten his arms around her in a gesture that felt protective. She’d never spent the night with anyone before. Her first time would be with Jesse, in Rome. What could be more perfect?

  “’I’ll need a train ticket and a reservation,” Jesse was saying. “So I’ll go to the station with you in the morning. If your train’s full, I might need to take a later one. We could meet up at the Termini Station in Rome.…”

  But Lucy couldn’t concentrate on the logistics. As she and Jesse walked hand in hand back to the Bertolini, chatting about the sights they would see in Rome, it took effort just to keep her voice steady. Is Charlene going to freak out when I tell her? she was thinking. Also, What if I’m not as ready as I think I am? Their shoes echoed against the pavement of Florence’s hushed streets, and their voices bounced against the darkened storefronts, making even the lightest conversation feel momentous.

  Just before midnight, they kissed good night in front of the Hostel Bertolini. Rehearsing the words she would say to Charlene, Lucy took the stairs up to her room two at a time, but when she let herself in she found the lights off and Charlene already asleep. Lucy felt her way around the darkened room, fumbling for her nightgown. In the bathroom, she switched on the light and examined her face in the mirror—her brown eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them before. Jesse’s coming to Rome to be with me, she thought. And, What will Charlene say when I tell her? And, I probably won’t sleep even a wink tonight.

  Which turned out to be 100 percent true.

  X

  Lucy broke the news to Charlene as they were dressing to catch the train, and the conversation went about as badly as she had feared. “You’re going to do what?” Charlene, who had been searching under the bed for her sneakers, looked up in alarm.

  Lucy had no choice but to say it again. “I’m going to stay with Jesse in Rome.”

  Charlene got to her feet, a sneaker in each hand. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said, her voice ten degrees chillier. “You’ve been trying to ditch me for days.”

  “What?” The word came out in a squeak. “I have not.”

  “Ever since you met him.” Charlene’s nostrils did that flaring thing Lucy dreaded so much. “No, even before that, when you wanted me to go off with Simon.”

  “That wasn’t me trying to ditch you. I wanted you to be happy. Just like I would think you’d want me to be happy now.”

  “Happy.” Now Charlene’s voice was mocking.

  “Yes,” Lucy said. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “And now I’m going to be alone in Rome while you and Jesse
are off being happy.”

  “We can all meet up and do some sightseeing together,” Lucy said.

  “Oh, please.”

  “Why not?” Lucy asked.

  Charlene didn’t answer.

  “Well, then, if you’d rather be alone, that’s your choice. Not mine.” Even as she said the words, Lucy tried to determine how Charlene was taking them. Her blue eyes were brighter than usual. She wasn’t about to cry, was she? A wave of guilt washed over Lucy. “You’ll meet people at the hostel. Everywhere we’ve gone, we’ve met people.”

  But Charlene’s only reply was a little snort, and Lucy saw she’d been wrong about the crying. Annoyed, she began yanking out her dresser drawers to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. Sure enough, she’d overlooked a pair of balled-up socks in the bottom drawer.

  “You know, I promised your parents I would stick by you this whole trip,” Charlene said. “I gave my word.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.” Lucy held back the rest of what she wanted to say: how sick she was of Charlene always acting like she was so mature, so superior, so sensible. Treating Lucy like a child.

  “Well, that’s not what your mother thinks, apparently.” Charlene busied herself with gathering the jewelry from the top drawer of her dresser, sorting it into the many little ziplock bags she’d brought along for that purpose. When she spoke again her tone was more guarded. “What will she say when you tell her?”

  “About getting a room with Jesse?” Lucy felt the blood drain from her face. “Why would I tell her that?”

  “My mom always holds you two up as an example. She says you tell each other everything.”

  Lucy bit her lower lip. “Not everything,” she said, though it was true that she’d never needed to keep many secrets from her mother. Until now. She was pretty sure her mom wouldn’t approve of her going off with Jesse, and even more sure that her father would be furious. If he found out, that was. To hide her face, Lucy fussed over the contents of her pack, as though where she tucked her last pair of socks was the most important decision in the world.

  “If you told her about this, it would make me look bad,” Charlene continued. “Like I failed to do my duty.”

  “Your duty?” Her back still turned, Lucy allowed herself a small, relieved smile. “You don’t have to worry. I promise not to say a word if you don’t.”

  Though Lucy and Charlene had struck a kind of truce up in their room, the rest of the morning was every bit as awkward as Lucy might have expected, and then some. When Jesse met them in the lobby with his guitar and duffel bag, Charlene aimed a gruff hello in his direction, then refused to say anything more. The three of them trudged to the station in grim silence. As Jesse had predicted, Lucy’s train was sold out, but he was able to reserve a seat on a later one. Their good-bye kiss was rushed and awkward. How could Lucy not feel Charlene’s death stare as she waited three feet away, leaning against a concrete pillar, all their baggage at her feet? For the whole train ride, Charlene glowered in the window seat, blocking Lucy’s view of the landscape streaming past.

  When they arrived in Rome, Charlene turned her back on Lucy and stalked off without a word.

  “I’ll see you at the airport on Sunday morning,” Lucy called after her, trying to sound cheerier than she felt. “We can meet up at the gate.”

  Charlene turned reluctantly. “You’d better be there.”

  “Of course,” Lucy replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  But Charlene simply started off again, her shoulders hunched under the weight of her pack. After that, Lucy checked her own knapsack into a locker and spent the next few hours wandering the streets around the train station. Rome was bigger than Florence, a bit grittier and more intimidating, and Lucy hesitated to go far, afraid of missing Jesse’s train.

  I’m really in Rome, she told herself, trying to shake off the cloud Charlene had cast over her morning. In the booth of a small pizzeria, she picked at her lunch and paged through Wanderlust, making a mental list of things she wanted to see. But her mind kept flitting back to Jesse, to the hotel room they’d soon be checking into, and to what would happen next. Will Jesse bring a condom with him? she wondered. Or should I find a pharmacy? And is the Italian word for condom even in my phrasebook? Feeling shaky at the very thought, she decided Jesse would be prepared. He has to be, or I won’t… we won’t… She pushed aside her half-empty bottle of San Pellegrino and snapped Wanderlust shut. Too anxious to sit still a moment longer, she resumed walking, heading vaguely back in the direction of the Termini Station.

  Jesse’s train arrived on time. Lucy, standing on tiptoe for a better view, watched the crowds of travelers pour out. When he appeared at last—the first familiar face she’d seen in hours, scanning the crowd for her—Lucy waved with both arms, feeling as relieved to see him as if they’d been apart for weeks. Jesse smiled at the sight of her, dropped his bag unceremoniously to the platform, and scooped her up in a hello kiss. Not minding the crowds of strangers milling around them, Lucy kissed him back.

  When he released her, she felt flustered. “You’re here” was all she could think of to say.

  “Were you afraid I wouldn’t show?” he asked.

  “Of course not.” Lucy glanced down at her feet and then up into his dark eyes. “I was a little worried I might be standing at the wrong track. This station is so confusing.”

  “You figured it out,” Jesse said.

  “Yay, me.” Lucy mimed shaking pompoms in the air.

  “Ready?” Jesse bent to retrieve his bag. In contrast with the weathered, well-traveled blue fabric of his duffel bag, Lucy’s red pack looked brand-new. I’ll never catch up with him, she thought as she followed Jesse out of the station and back into the busy streets of Rome.

  When they came to a corner, Jesse unfolded a street map and pored over it. “We’re just a few blocks from the hotel,” he said.

  Lucy nodded. Making small talk was suddenly too much for her. In a few minutes, she and Jesse would be checking into a room together. She’d never done anything like this before—not with Adam, who’d taken her to the senior prom, or Patrick, the lacrosse player she’d gone out with for a few awkward months in the middle of junior year. Between the afternoon heat, the weight of her pack, and her jitters, it took all her concentration just to put one foot in front of the other.

  Not that I’m having second thoughts, she told herself. Jesse and Rome: What could be more romantic? Still, as she waited while Jesse studied his street map, she had to admit that one small thing was less than perfect: They would have a few days together, and then she would get on a plane and probably never see him again.

  I can’t fall in love with him, she told herself as sternly as she could manage.

  “You okay?” Jesse asked, folding the map. “We’re almost there.”

  And though his words made her pulse speed up, Lucy gave him what she hoped was a cheery little smile. “I’m fine.”

  The Albergo della Zingara was easy to miss. Only a small gold plaque beside an iron gate gave its location away. Jesse pressed a button and said a few words into an intercom, and a moment later they were buzzed into the hotel’s lobby. He greeted the tiny, red-haired woman behind the desk in Italian too rapid for Lucy to follow, though she caught the words for reservation and double bed. The woman took Jesse’s cash and handed over a heavy key. “You have a lovely stay,” she told them in heavily accented English.

  The elevator was barely big enough for the two of them and their bags. Somewhere around the third floor it slowed and then stopped. For a moment, Lucy thought they might be stuck, but a second later they lurched back into motion.

  “Phew,” she said to Jesse, mostly because it had been a long time since she’d said anything at all.

  The hotel room was small but clean, its double bed taking up most of the space. Lucy stepped in and hesitated, unsure of where to stand. Jesse ventured to the window, brushing back a white curtain. “It’s not too fancy, but we’ve got a street view
.”

  Could he be as nervous as she was? Lucy wondered. She joined him at the window, both of them looking down at the street four stories below.

  Lucy reached to give the sleeve of his T-shirt a tug. “I don’t care about fancy.”

  A moment later, Jesse’s arms were around her. “I’m glad,” he said. Lucy rested her head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of almonds, crushed mint, and, somehow, even though he’d spent the whole day on a train, fresh air. She drew back to look at him, and he kissed her, gently at first, and then deeply, his hands warm on her bare arms. She felt herself tremble again, the way she had the night before. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “What for?” He sounded surprised.

  “It’s just… I’ve never… I mean…” Lucy inhaled sharply. “This is the first time I’ve ever…” She shut her eyes and burrowed against his neck.

  Jesse stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in her curls. “That’s not something to be sorry for.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just that I’m feeling so…” She struggled for the right word. “Shy,” she said finally. “It’s silly, I know.…”

  “It’s not silly.” He kissed the top of her head. Then he sighed and released her. “I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

  “You’re not,” she said.

  With a swift backward spring, Jesse was prone on the bed. “Why don’t we take a nap?” He patted the white voile spread beside him, and Lucy climbed into the crook of his arm. She shut her eyes and forced herself to breathe deeply, just as she would to calm herself before stepping onstage.

  “I don’t think I can sleep,” she said.

  He brushed her hair away from her face. “Don’t sleep, then.”

  “I won’t.” And she didn’t, at first. But the steadiness of his breathing must have lulled her. When she opened her eyes again, the room had darkened slightly, the sun having slipped behind the buildings across the street.