“I think you look amazing. He’s gonna be all over you.”
The knock on the door makes me jump. “Oh god, I’m so nervous.”
Erika laughs. “Understandable, but just be yourself. Get to know him. A decade is a long time.”
“It is. I’m not even kind of the same person I was at fifteen.” I exhale slowly. “Okay. I’m ready.” I walk across the small apartment and open the door.
Diego smiles. “Hi.”
“Hi, Diego.” He looks amazing in jeans and a simple black t-shirt. I turn and look at my friend watching us. “This is Erika. We went to school together. Erika, this is Diego.”
They shake hands. “Nice to meet you, Erika.”
“You too.”
Diego turns back to me. “Are you ready?”
“I am.” I grab my handbag and wave at Erika as we leave. Walking down the street, I glance at the man beside me. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
He smiles, but doesn’t comment. “I know a great place not far from here. Hope you like Italian food.”
I tilt my head and he starts to laugh. “Ah, got it. All the food here is Italian.”
“It is.”
“Good one.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “How long have you been in Italy?”
“Many years now.” He pauses. “Seven, I think.”
“Seven. Wow. That is a long time.”
“Yes. Here we are.”
I look up at the quaint little restaurant before me. It’s cool inside, and looks like a cave, as though it was carved out of stone to exist. Diego and the man at the front have a brief chat I can’t hear, and then we’re led to a table near the back. I’m so nervous I’m not sure I can eat. I stare at the menu not comprehending any of it. I can’t focus.
“You speak Italian?”
I gaze up at Diego. “Yeah. Fluently. I assume you do after seven years here.”
“Yes.” His eyes search mine, just like they did all those years ago. “I saw your name on the list of restorers.” He smiles. “I read it three times. Julia Caputo. I wondered if it could really be you, and if you would actually show up here. I read your bio and saw the town you grew up in. The town where I met you and kissed you under a tree.”
“That was a nice day until my dad ruined it.”
“It was a great day.” He sips some water. “I never forgot it. Or you.”
“Neither did I. I tried to find you on social years later. I was too afraid to try when I was younger.”
“I wanted to find you a thousand times, but I didn’t want you to get in trouble over me.”
“Yeah.”
“But that connection that day, it was overwhelming.”
“It was.”
“It still is.”
My eyes open wide. “It is?”
“For me. You were pretty then, but, Julia, what a woman you’ve become.”
“Thank you, Diego.”
“It’s not just your face. Just like it wasn’t all those years ago. In your eyes…”
“What?”
“They are so beautiful. Soulful. When I look at them, when you look at me, it’s like the most comforting feeling in the world. It’s hard to describe, but it’s the same as it was.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just keep your eyes on me.”
I try to sort my thoughts, pausing to order a pasta dish, and then returning my attention to the man across the table. “So, you’re not married or dating anybody?”
“No.” He twists his hands. “My work…”
“What? It keeps you busy? I mean, don’t you think it’s incredible that we went into the same line of work?”
He shakes his head. “About that.”
“Yes?” We’re interrupted by wine and bread being delivered to the table. I notice how Diego averts his gaze. “Diego?”
“We’re not in the same line of work. Not at all.”
“You don’t work at the church?”
“I do, but not restoring frescoes.”
“Oh. What do you do there?”
“Julia.” He pauses, then shifts his eyes up to meet mine. “I’m the priest.”
My brow furrows as I’m certain I heard him wrong. “What?”
“I’m a priest, Julia. It’s my church.”
“Priest? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand what a priest is?”
“No, of course I do. I don’t understand how you’re a priest. A Catholic priest?”
“Yes.”
“A priest?”
“Yes, Julia. A priest.”
“But…” I shake my head. “You’re dressed normal, and we’re on a date.” I avert my eyes as my heart sinks. “It’s not a date, is it?”
“Not exactly.”
“You can’t date. You can’t marry or kiss girls under trees or anything.”
“No.”
I stare down at my hands, processing this information. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Did you become a priest?”
“I just wanted to. I felt called. I came to Rome right after high school. I wanted to get in touch with my Italian roots, and I met a man here that became a friend. He was teaching in seminary and the more he talked it about, the more I wanted to feel connected to something that important. So I joined. Now I dedicate my life to the church.”
“I see.”
“Look at me, Julia.” I shift my eyes up. “I want us to be friends.”
“Friends.” I nod. “Okay. Of course.”
“You’re disappointed.”
“You said I was beautiful. You said we have a connection. You just said it.”
“It’s true. If my vocation was different…”
“What?”
“This would be a date. You know that, right?”
I nod. “It’s just that, god, Diego, I’ve spent ten years thinking about you. Wondering how your life turned out. Wishing I could be kissed the way you kissed me. But I can’t. I found you, but…”
Diego grabs my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, Julia. I’ve thought of you too. Often. Please believe me.”
“I believe you.” I smile. “A priest wouldn’t lie, right?”
He smiles back. “Right. How long will you be in Italy?”
“As long as I can be. I don’t want to go back.”
“Neither do I. Did you ever ask your dad why he was so angry that day?”
“He was always angry.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Like abuse?” Diego nods. “No. He was just oppressive. I was never allowed to have a boyfriend. I went on my first date in college.”
“I’m sure he just wanted to protect you.”
“Control. Not protect.” I sip my water. “But now I’m here. Thousands of miles away, and he can’t do anything about it.”
“Good for you.”
“Are you happy? Do you like being a priest?”
“I am and I do. It’s fulfilling work. Lonely sometimes, but what I do is important.”
“Yes.”
“You too. You’re honoring these wonderful artists and reviving their work for new generations to see and appreciate.”
“All the churches in all of Italy and I end up in yours.”
“Life is funny sometimes.”
“It is.”
After dinner we walk slowly though the town square until we end up back at my place. “Am I allowed to talk to you at the church?”
“Yes, of course. Any time you want to.”
“Are you allowed to see me? Like we did tonight. As friends of course.”
“I am allowed social calls, yes.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes, Julia, I do.”
“Me too. So they call you Father Diego?”
“Father Montesanto, but you can still call me Diego. Privately.”
“Okay.”
He takes my hands in his. “I had a wonderful time. See
ing you again is amazing.”
“Same.”
Diego searches my eyes, moving closer as if he’s going to kiss me. My breath catches when his lips brush my cheek. “See you tomorrow, Julia.”
I nod. “Okay. Bye, Diego.”
He smiles, pinching my chin, just like he did all those years ago, before walking away. I watch him until he turns the corner, gracing me with one more smile. I enter the apartment to find Erika sleeping on the couch. I try to sneak by her, but she pops up.
“Uh huh, sister. I need to know what happened. I’m surprised you’re home and not back at his place.”
“His place is a church, Erika.”
“Huh? He lives in a church?”
“That’s where priests live.”
She tilts her head. “Come again?”
“He’s a priest.” I slump on the couch next to her. “He’s a freaking priest.”
Erika’s eyes open wide as she sits up straight. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I rub my forehead. “This is awful.”
“Um, yeah it is. That means hands off, right?”
“Right. He said we can be friends.”
“Friends.” She nods slowly. “Awesome.”
“Right after he told me the connection was just as strong as it was ten years ago.”
“Was it?”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent.”
“Well this sucks.”
“Immensely.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. Go to work. Restore art. Stay the hell away from the hottest man on the planet Father Diego Montesanto.”
“Damn. Even his name is fire.”
“I know.”
“And his eyes are amazing.”
“Yeah.”
“And his face. Whoa.”
“I know.”
Erika puts her arm around my shoulder. “Sorry, girl. On the plus side, we’re in Italy. There’s hot guys everywhere. Tomorrow night we’ll go out and find some. How’s that sound?”
I laugh softly. “Good.”
“Good.”
“I’m going to bed.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah. Night.”
Inside my room, I kick off my sandals and flop myself into bed. The moment I dreamt of for a decade came true and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I check my watch, but it’s too late to call Katie in New York. All I can do at this point is try to sleep so I can focus on my work and not a sexy priest.
∞∞∞
“How’d you sleep?”
I pour myself coffee and sit down across from Erika. “Not good. Tossed and turned all night. Too much pent up energy I guess.”
“Which is why you need a vibrator.”
I laugh before sipping the hot liquid. “Maybe you’re right.” I twist my lips for a second. “Remember what I told you about the dreams I used to have?”
“The guy chasing someone or something.”
“Yeah. I had it last night.”
Her eyes open wide. “No way. Julia! No fucking way.”
“I did. It was slightly different. He was really blurry and walking slowly at first, but then he started running. He was calling out something, but it’s always muffled.”
“Dude. Diego’s back and so is the dream. What is that?”
“It’s beyond strange.”
“Way beyond.” She takes a bite of her biscotti. “Do you think it’s him somehow?”
“Diego?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember what you said before? How could I dream about him before I met him?”
“Yeah, but they went away when he kissed you and came back when he reentered your life.”
“Yeah, I know. I was here for it all.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying. It’s connected.”
“Obviously. I just don’t know how or why.”
“It’s cool though. Isn’t it?”
“I guess. I don’t know how it’s going to feel seeing him today. All I wanted to do last night was kiss him, run my fingers through his hair, feel his beard on my face.”
“And between your legs.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Oh god.”
“Am I right?”
I nod, laughing. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I know. Damn shame a man that looks like that ain’t giving it to anybody.”
“Ugh.”
She looks at her watch. “Time to pull it together. We have 40 minutes before we report.”
I set my mug down. “I’ll be ready in twenty.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I laugh. “Challenge accepted.”
Back in my bedroom, I quickly brush my teeth and wrap my hair in a messy bun on top of my head. It helps to have it out of my face. I apply light makeup then throw on my leggings and tunic before sliding my feet in my sandals. Gazing at my reflection, I think I look grown up and pretty. I shouldn’t want to appeal to him. He can’t do anything about it, but I do. I want his attention even if nothing will come of it.
I head out to the living room and grab Erika by the shoulders. “Eighteen minutes.”
She high fives me. “Nice. Let’s go.”
We make the short walk to the church receiving catcalls from a small gang of Italian men. We smile but keep walking. If a girl needs some attention, there’s plenty of men around to give it to her. We turn the corner to the church and slip inside. I glance around but move to my section when I don’t see him. A moment later I hear shoes clicking. They sound strong and male, and I just know it’s him. I twist my head to see him walking toward me. Before I can stand, he kneels down to me.
“Buon giorno, Julia.”
“Morning, Diego, uh, Father Montesanto.”
“I told you that you could use my name.”
“You said in private. We’re in public.”
He smiles. “Yes, that is true. Did you sleep well?”
Do I tell him the truth? Can I lie to a priest? “Not really. I was restless.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“More than you know.”
“Well I hope it gets better.”
Diego doesn’t respond, but continues to hold my gaze. His lips part and I yearn for words to come, but they don’t. I start to say something, but Sister Louisa enters the room and starts directing people.
“We’ll speak later,” is all he says as he stands and leaves me.
I shift my attention back to my work. At least I have something else to focus on besides the man I can’t touch. I take my tiny brush and lamp working in a small section to uncover the layers of dirt and grime that cover the original artwork. This church doesn’t claim any famous works, but it’s heavily studied by art history students around the world for its abundance of 16th century frescoes. I just can’t believe I was lucky enough to be invited to work here. Lucky for more reasons than one.
By the time lunch rolls around, my neck is stiff. I stand and stretch, twisting around when I feel his presence behind me. I offer a big smile. “Father.”
“Julia.” A smile dances in his eyes. “Are you religious?”
“No. I was raised with it, of course. Good Catholic family and all.”
“But you don’t subscribe to it. Why?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe. I just don’t like all the rules. I’m really sick of rules.”
“It must be liberating to be on your own.”
“It is.” My eyes shift to the group of people around us, clearly noticing my interaction with Diego. “Will you get in trouble or anything talking to me?”
“I shared with Sister Louisa that we were childhood friends. That’s why I’m offering to take you to lunch. You and Erika, of course.”
“That’s great. I’ll ask her.”
“I’ll wait.”
I walk over to where Erika sits pretending to clean her bru
shes even though I know she’s low key watching me and Diego. “He wants to take us to lunch.”
“Both of us?”
“That’s what he said. I’m sure it looks better than if he just asked me alone.”
“Oh right. For sure. Yeah, why not. Let’s eat lunch with the priest.”
“Yeah.”
She stands and pulls my arm. “Any topics off limits?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
We join Diego and walk outside together. The three of us are silent, until Erika thankfully breaks the silence.
“So, Dieg—” She laughs. “Father Montesanto, I hear you and my girl here knew each other as kids?”
“We did.” He smiles. “For about an hour, but that hour changed me.”
I glance up at him. “That’s dramatic.”
“It may be, but it’s true. In my duties, I counsel many young people on love and relationships. I have always been able to confidently assure them that love at first sight does indeed happen.”
“Or another L word.”
“I know the difference, Julia. Don’t you? Certainly it isn’t purely lust that has kept you in my thoughts for a decade.”
Erika looks at me wide-eyed. “Um, if you want to talk to her alone, I don’t mind. I can grab lunch on my own.”
Diego smiles. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. We should talk about other things anyway. You can both tell me what led you to becoming art historians.”
I stare at the ground as we walk still absorbing his earlier words. Erika’s chatting away, explaining how she chose art history as a major, but all I can think about is his declaration of love at first sight. Did he love me then?
“Julia?” I glance up at the sound of Diego speaking my name. “What about you?”
“Oh, um, I just always liked history and art and antiques. I spoke to a school counselor and she suggested art history. My first professor told us about restoring art in churches and how it was so important to never let it die or fade away. It made me smile to think about something created five or six hundred years ago and a little child could see it as fresh as the day it was made. I wanted to be part of that. I may not be saving the world, but I’m helping to make it more beautiful.”
Diego’s eyes seems to sear through me with intensity. “The world needs more beauty. It needs more people who care about preserving the past.”
“I agree.”
Erika nods. “Me too.” She glances at me for a second before gazing up at Diego. “What’s your life like? I’ve never met a priest before.”
Worship Page 3
