The Sweet Life

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The Sweet Life Page 14

by Sharon Struth


  “Oh so this is how it’s gonna roll, huh?” He stood and held out his hand to help her up.

  “You bet.” She took his hand and rose just as her stomach growled loudly. She laughed and pressed her hand to it. “Jeesh, down Rover! I’ve never eaten so much in my life and still find room for more. Can you explain that to me?”

  Taking in her eyes, now lively and energetic, he couldn’t ignore how good her joy made him feel. “It’s part of Italy’s magic.”

  Chapter 13

  “Peter, sbrigati. Siamo in ritardo.”

  Mamie opened her eyes and lifted her head. Right near the blanket where she and Julian had lain down to relax then fallen asleep, a woman holding a child’s hand hurried by.

  Staying on her side, Mamie nestled her cheek into the soft blanket. The owner of the deli where they’d purchased a bag of olives, bread, and sliced meats for their lunch turned out to be a friend of Julian’s. The two men had spoken in lively Italian and next she knew, the gray-haired owner handed Julian the blanket they now used, winked at them, and sent them along with a bottle of wine.

  From this angle, her gaze trailed the line of connected gold and tan stucco buildings with terra-cotta tiled roofs separating the park from the busy city. Beyond the buildings, the sky opened and the tall tower she and Julian planned to climb this afternoon jutted into the sky.

  Julian. An awareness of his arm draped at her waist and his slow breaths close to the back of her head swept over her. How had they ended up in this position? They’d been on their backs, side by side, staring up into the blue sky and puffy clouds. Then she shut her eyes for just a second and rolled to her side... That’s the last thing she could recall.

  His nearness offered comfort. Same as when he’d take her hand out of the blue. Maybe he was just a guy who touched people easily, but part of her wanted it to mean more.

  The cathedral tour should’ve been wonderful. Well, it was at the start. But while Julian discussed works done by Michelangelo, Donatello, and Bernini, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ted and how he’d have loved this tour, loved this country.

  At least she’d told Julian the truth about her marital status and why she was single. She couldn’t quite mention Zoe. Her daughter’s wide, dark eyes and freckled nose flashed in her mind’s eye, causing Mamie’s gut to quiver. Talking about Zoe brought her back to life, leaving Mamie clinging to precious memories where she’d later drown in her grief. No, she couldn’t share that loss with him. Not yet.

  “Ready to climb the campanile?” Julian’s tired voice rumbled near her ear.

  “The what?” She rolled over to face him, burying the angst over losing her daughter and forcing a smile.

  He watched her through sleepy eyes. “It’s another name for the tower.”

  “How many steps did you say?”

  “Five hundred.”

  “It doesn’t look so bad, so I’m game. The real question is, are you?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Did you just throw down the gauntlet?”

  “Did you forget about our bet? Ten euros are at stake, although I think the incentive should be greater.”

  “Oh? What do you want?” His voice shifted, huskier than before.

  His smile faded and his serious gaze made her still. She wanted to reach over and touch the soft grain of his beard, run her fingers through the waves of his hair. Kiss him and let the thin mustache above his upper lip tease her skin. Yes. That’s what she wanted to do. What she wanted to feel.

  Julian studied her face, the intensity in his eyes making the space between her thighs ache for his touch. Old Mamie would’ve waited, but new Mamie’s desires were strong. She leaned in, pushing aside any concern about right from wrong—

  Julian swung an arm up and blocked his head just as a soccer ball landed between them.

  “Scusi!” A young boy approached.

  “Non c’è problema.” Julian handed off the ball with a smile.

  “Grazie.” The young boy ran off to his friend.

  Julian sat up and Mamie did the same.

  He turned to her. “I guess we should get going.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Only he didn’t move. He stared at her face, searching and assessing, then slowly his gaze drifted to her mouth. His lips parted, such perfect lips partially hidden beneath the outline of his beard and mustache. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

  He glanced away and cleared his throat. “The Wanderers have a talent show planned while we’re at the villas.”

  “Yeah. Bernie mentioned it.” She worked hard to sound normal, despite disappointment over the swift change in the atmosphere.

  “I was thinking, do you want to do a number with me? The others would love it. I mean, since we’re the group’s youngsters.”

  “At thirty-nine I’m not exactly a youngster.”

  His gaze trickled over her, pulling her back to the near miss of a kiss. “You’re younger than me.”

  “Not by much.”

  “Two years, and I’d gladly take those back. So? Are you up for it?”

  “I don’t have any talent.” She straightened out her legs and wiggled her toes, freed from her sandals. “What are you going to do?”

  “I play the guitar. Beppe said I could borrow his brother’s. He lives close to the villas where we’ll be staying.” He smiled, a grin sly as a fox. “Want to know a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “My dad attended Woodstock, like the others in the group.”

  “Why haven’t you told them? They’d eat that right up.”

  He shrugged. “This is their trip. Not about me.”

  “Bet your dad will love hearing about this tour.” As the words fell out of her mouth, Mamie remembered the article about him losing his parents in a hot air balloon accident.

  “My dad passed away.” He showed no outer reaction. “Many years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  He waved a hand. “It was a long time ago. Anyway, Dad taught me how to play the guitar. And trust me, he made sure I could play the music of his generation. I figured I’d surprise them with a number from the concert.”

  “Great idea. I can tell they really like you.”

  “You think? Well, I like them.” He rose off the blanket and extended his hand to her. As she took it and stood, tenderness visible in his eyes said far more than his words. “Let me know if you want to join me on stage, but for now it’s time to hike the campanile. We’ve got to be back in a while.”

  They packed their things and headed back toward town. Julian returned to acting like a tour director, describing all the sights along the way. Good thing that soccer ball rolled onto the blanket. She must be misreading his cues and was rustier about the dating scene than she thought. Even though he’d asked her to join him at tomorrow’s Palio trial race, it wasn’t like a date.

  He stopped in front of a brick building. “This is the Sienese Government building. Our entrance to the tower.” He pointed up.

  Tipping her head back, she took in the edifice, its height more daunting close up than from a distance. “Gosh, it is tall.”

  “Don’t back out on me.”

  “Did I say I was backing out?”

  “Vamos, Señorita Mamie. Our race starts here.”

  He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her inside. After paying a fee, they started the ascent.

  At first, Mamie sprinted, glancing back at him and laughing about her possible win. The tight chamber narrowed the higher they went and soon she couldn’t see Julian. A dank scent closed in on her and natural light disappeared. She stopped near a small window set into the thick brick. Mamie bent over a half-wall edging the stairs like a railing, from this view able to stare down the levels within the squared staircase. “Julian?”

  His head popped into the stairwell opening
, about ten or fifteen steps below. “You might want to pace yourself. Remember the turtle and the hare?”

  “Which one are you?”

  He laughed and then pulled in his head so she could no longer see him, like a turtle hiding in its shell.

  “I think you’re the turtle,” she yelled and his laughter echoed inside the closed chamber.

  She continued up slowly, getting winded and hoping he’d reach her soon. Other voices carried from above and a moment later, Mamie pressed her back against the cool brick walls while a family passed on their way down.

  Julian finally appeared around a tight corner and grinned. “Thanks for waiting, Bugs Bunny.”

  “So you admit you are a turtle?”

  He shook his head and smiled then motioned with his hand. “After you.”

  She started up, slower now. The stone stairs were steep and her legs ached. She stopped to catch her breath and he waited at her side.

  “We’re almost there.” He sounded winded himself. “It’ll be worth it.”

  She could only nod and they kept climbing.

  Less than a minute later, the sky beckoned beyond a doorway. She stepped out and the fresh air rushed her skin, a welcome break after the musty stone structure.

  “Come on.” Julian took her hand and headed toward brick wall maybe four or five feet high surrounding the observation platform. “Let’s call this race a tie.”

  When they reached the wall, their shoulders brushed as they stood close, his hand in hers. The hot sun warmed her skin. She inhaled, fully aware of her racing heart. Be it from the climb, Julian’s hand in hers, or the view, she couldn’t be certain.

  Nothing could’ve prepared her for the panoramic view of Siena’s orange roofs dotting the cityscape, blending the hand of nature and man. Architecture so rustic and perfect that the buildings appeared to have sprouted from the soil. Directly below the tower, tourists the size of ants milled in the Campo. The large fountain in the square’s center looked small enough to be a toddler pool. Beyond the city walls, the rolling hills of Tuscany wrapped its arms around the walled fortress. Safe. Peaceful. That’s how the Sienese of centuries past must have felt here. It’s how Mamie felt.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s...” Mamie searched for the right words. “Magnificent.”

  “Look to your left.”

  Mamie turned, further awestruck when she caught sight of a massive cathedral in the distance. She hurried over to the corner, waving to Julian to follow.

  “Is that where we went earlier?” she yelled before he could reach her.

  “Yup.”

  Close up, the church had seemed enormous, and somehow even from this distance it majestically enveloped the city.

  He caught up and stood beside her.

  She lifted her sunglasses into her hair as the sun disappeared behind a billowy cloud. “I think this tower is as tall as the church. I hadn’t realized how high up the church sat, like it’s built on a hill.”

  “You’re very observant. The Sienese were making a statement by doing that, giving both government and God an equal importance in their lives, although the tower is taller, so you be the judge of their message.”

  “How do you know all this?” She faced him and found him watching her, not the view. “I really love all these little details you share.”

  “Do you now?” He spoke softly and his lips lifted in a slight smile.

  “I do.” She leaned against the stone wall as the sun reappeared and cast its heat over her. Or did she feel this way because Julian stood close, his gaze brimming with a different type of heat. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because I love your excitement.” He reached up and brushed a few strands of her hair from her face, his smile fading. He took a step closer and stretched out his arms, resting his palms on the wall and trapping her between them. Close enough to kiss.

  He lowered his voice and watched her. “The views up here are nice, but I have the most beautiful view of all.”

  Julian kissed her. A tender and careful kiss. His soft lips treated her with a kind of patient handling she needed, yet still conveyed his desire. She lifted her arms around his neck and pressed close as he slipped his hand to the curve of her back, holding her there while he deepened his kiss.

  He leaned back, watching her with a satisfied smile on his lips. “What do you think? Was this worth the climb?”

  “Oh yes.” She stretched up on tiptoes and this time she kissed him, the way she’d wanted to earlier.

  Little did he know that her real climb had been the one taking her to the airport and sending her on this journey. An ascent returning a few pieces of herself she’d previously lost along the way.

  * * * *

  “If I could have everyone’s attention.”

  Mamie looked away from the bus window to where Julian stood at the front of the bus. Their eyes met and he gave her a quick smile then turned his attention back to the tour.

  His simple glance revived their last kiss, hiding out in a quiet alley not far from their hotel after they left the tower. Passionate. Forbidden. The secret nature of their Siena tryst made it all the more tantalizing.

  “This is our last night in Siena—”

  Groans filled the bus, cutting him off.

  He laughed. “Now come on. We’re headed to a beautiful villa. It’ll be a Tuscan communal living experience. I thought hippies liked communal living?”

  “That’s a stereotype,” Tina piped up from her seat across the aisle from Mamie. “I’ll miss Siena. Strolling around town after dinner has been a joy. Plus, I like not cooking my meals.”

  “I’m glad you mentioned that, Tina. My boss made arrangements for a chef while we’re there. Listen, this place is beautiful. You can still take day excursions, photograph nearby, or simply relax to enjoy the pool or visit the hot springs.”

  “It’ll be a chance for you to rest up, Julian.” Bob grinned.

  “Well played, Bob.”

  The others laughed and started to talk again, but Julian’s silence and raised brow quieted them.

  “For dinner tonight, we’re headed for a small town called Staggia. It’s just past Monteriggioni, where we had dinner your first night here. There’s a castle nearby, located on an old pilgrimage route between Poggibonsi and Monteriggioni.”

  Their first night seemed like a lifetime ago. Mamie sure wasn’t the same person who’d gotten on that plane back at JFK.

  “This dinner, it’s a very special one for me. My mother was from Italy. So while I was born in America, Italy has always been a second home. The chef here is a close family friend. Like an uncle to me. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen him, so...” Julian looked at the ground for a few seconds and his Adam’s apple rolled along his throat. He lifted his head and, voice filled with emotion, he continued, “While I don’t usually join you at dinner, tonight I will. For me, it’s about old friends and new ones.”

  Everyone applauded. Julian smiled gently and took his seat. The small drop about his past confirmed what was written in the Michigan library article about his mother being Italian and meeting her husband during his study abroad. Armed with this new fact, she vowed to be patient and let Julian tell her about himself, not divulge what her Internet search revealed. Him telling her would mean he wanted to open up to her, rather than her backing him into a corner with her suspicions.

  The bus slowed and entered a narrow street. They passed a row of blemished white stucco connected buildings, all with aging evergreen shutters.

  Beppe pulled into a spot and had barely stopped before half the passengers stood, anxious to exit. Mamie waited more patiently and was one of the last few to step off. Julian waited outside the door and offered her a hand down.

  His eyes searched hers. “Careful. Did you enjoy your day free from my grueling tour?”
/>   “Oh yes.” She tossed him a coy smile. “I explored Siena. Seems I have a deep passion for the city.”

  His eyes hooded, making her want to drag him to a quiet alley and make out again. Who was this stranger she’d become?

  He quickly turned to Tina, right behind Mamie. “And how about you, Tina?”

  Mamie walked over to the others, but had a hard time taking her eyes off Julian.

  Bob Leon stepped off last, a grin already set on his face as he raised his voice loud enough for the group to hear. “A few of us are hoping for a late night of partying. Right, Bern?” He tipped his head to Bernie, who waited near Mamie.

  Bernie laughed. “Now don’t scare the kid, Bob. Didn’t we say we’d ease him into it?”

  “Take it easy on me, you guys.” Julian patted Bob on the shoulder. “Last night I had a rough one with some friends.”

  Bob shook his head. “I’m not sure you’d have survived Woodstock, kiddo.”

  “Sometimes I wonder that myself, Bob.”

  Mamie wondered what Bob would think if he knew he was talking to a man who, at one point in his life, challenged himself with more dramatic feats than most mortals.

  Julian waved his hand and they followed toward a row of stucco buildings, slowing at a door marked “Ristorante del Castello.”

  “This place is small and ours for the night. Head on in and take a seat.” He motioned to a doorway where gold fabric cords hung from the top frame and danced with a breeze.

  As she reached the door’s threshold, the aromatic scent of garlic and good cooking bombarded her senses, making her mouth water and hungry stomach beg for satisfaction.

  An older man, wiping his hands on a food-stained white apron, exited the kitchen. He had a long, thick nose and stark white hair. His dark eyes sparkled as he smiled and lifted his long chin to inspect the group.

  When Julian walked in after the last passenger, the man’s face brightened. “Julian! Benvenuto.”

  They hugged. Julian shut his eyes and the two men stayed that way for a long moment, the depth of their affection so deep Mamie could feel it.

 

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