The Resilient Bride

by Lucy McConnell

  “Scusi, signor.” The gelato vendor, a portly man in a splattered apron, managed to place five different flavors on one skinny cone, all the while making horrified faces at Liam’s choices.

  Liam accepted the creamy masterpiece. “Grazie.”

  The flirty Italian, who had the top three buttons of his shirt open to reveal a carpet of dark hair on his chest, turned to Kiera. “Per la donna?”

  “He wants to know what flavor—or flavors,” Liam winked. “—you’d like.”

  Kiera bit her lip and peered into his open refrigerated cart, where a dozen containers of true Italian gelato lined up like paint on a palette.

  They’d arrived in Rome around ten in the morning, exchanged dollars for euros, and made their way to the Fontana de Trevi. Thankfully, everyone had gotten some sleep on the plane, making the transition to a new time zone easier than it would have been if they’d stayed awake.

  A popular tourist site, the fountain had recently undergone a thorough cleaning and restoration. The result was that it all looked old. Which, Liam supposed, was the idea. A half-dozen people wandered through the plaza, and a dozen more lounged on the Spanish Steps, two of them dressed as gypsies playing a lyre and a tambourine.

  Their gelato dealer had barely opened shop when Liam, Kiera, and David stepped up to order. He seemed to enjoy hamming it up for them, and Liam hoped the man had a buxom wife and a dozen children to surround him each night.

  “Chocolate,” said Kiera, bringing Liam’s attention back to their outing.

  “Just chocolate?” David scoffed. “I thought you’d go rainbow like Liam.”

  Kiera shook her head, her brow serious. “When it comes to gelato, I’m a purist.”

  Liam slipped his arm around Kiera’s waist. The movement felt natural and relaxed between them, like they’d been friends for eternity. To his delight, Kiera didn’t resist. “Come here often?” He gave her his best smolder.

  Kiera laughed again—an alto laugh, though he suspected that under the right circumstances she could produce a giggle in a higher key. “Nope. This is my first time. But I admit, I’m something of an ice cream specialist.” She took her cone and smiled.

  “How so?” He led her to the edge of the fountain, leaving David to order his cone and settle up with the vendor. David scowled as they walked away. Out of necessity, Liam ignored his brother’s bad mood. When Liam allowed himself to think about being separated from his brother, his home, this earth, it dragged him down too. He had so little life left to live that he refused to spend it depressed.

  He and Kiera sat side by side, their knees touching.

  “I worked for Baskin Robbins my junior year of high school.” Kiera bit into her gelato. Bit it, like an apple, her beautiful white teeth sinking into the soft dessert.

  “Ah. I see. And were you a purist there too?” He pointed to her plain chocolate cone.

  “Nope. I tried all thirty-one flavors.”

  “Aaaaand?”

  “And chocolate is still my favorite.” She grinned, taking another bite.

  David sat down on the other side of Kiera.

  “What did you get?” she asked.

  “Vanilla,” David and Liam said at the same time—David as the answer to her question, Liam to tease his brother.

  Kiera scrunched her pert little nose. “Vanilla is not a flavor.”

  David looked at his cone, confused. “Sure it is.”

  Shaking her head, which made the light bounce off her long, dark hair, Kiera said, “Nope. Vanilla is the base for real flavors.”

  “Like pistachio, mint, coconut, banana, and—”

  “Chocolate,” Kiera finished for Liam. She held up her cone, and he bumped it with his.

  “If vanilla wasn’t a flavor, they wouldn’t have it on the menu,” countered David.

  “They have to put something out for those with poor taste.” Liam winked at Kiera.

  Kiera chuckled. “That was punny.”

  Liam laughed. David groaned.

  “You wanted to laugh.” Kiera bumped David, accidentally jostling his cone. David fumbled for a moment, his eyes going wide and his mouth gaping open. With a soft plop, the whole thing landed in the fountain.

  Kiera gasped. “Sorry,” she squeaked.

  A man appeared at the side of the fountain with a net fastened to a long pole and extracted the cone. They were lucky it was just the cone. If David had fallen in, they could have been arrested.

  “We’re sorry,” Kiera apologized to him.

  He took one appreciative look from Kiera’s long legs to her big eyes and spoke rapidly in Italian, a huge grin on his face.

  “What’s he saying?” Kiera asked Liam, who shrugged.

  “He says he’d be happy to buy you another cone.” David shook moisture off his arm. “Or dinner.” His face darkened. “And breakfast.”

  The next thing Liam knew, David was knee deep in water, yanking on the net end of the pole. “Shut it, or I’ll shut it for you.” He switched to Italian, his words becoming more forceful.

  The man dropped his end of the pole and threw his hands in the air. “Policia! Policia!” He pointed to David, who was standing in one of Italy’s most treasured and legally protected fountains. He took off around a corner, still yelling for the police.

  David turned, sheepishly meeting Kiera’s questioning gaze.

  In the distance, Liam heard the roar of an engine. No doubt the police were on their way. “We’ve got to go.” He motioned to both Kiera and David, who stared at one another in the strangest way. “People, we have to move,” Liam insisted.

  “Why would you do that?” Kiera asked.

  David sloshed a few steps, his clothes soaked. “He had no right to … to dishonor you that way.”

  Kiera blinked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

  The roar of an engine bounced off the buildings on either side of the narrow street leading into the plaza.

  Liam grabbed Kiera’s hand. “Move now, cry later.”

  “Sorry.” Kiera used her free hand to brush at her cheeks. “It’s just—”

  “Later,” Liam begged as he pulled her around the fountain; David splashed alongside them. Either Liam was weaker than he thought or Kiera was dragging her feet. “I don’t want to spend one of my remaining days in prison—can we move?”

  His words worked like a well-aimed cattle prod, and soon the three of them were running down an adjacent street, David leaving a trail of water behind them.

  “There.” David pointed to a metro sign. The trio hurried down the stairs. David fished wet coins out of his pocket and paid their fare. They hopped on the first train they came to and fell into the seats, breathing hard.

  Liam and Kiera had made it all the way to the train with their hands clasped. Her easy acceptance of him was like a blanket right out of the dryer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been close to a woman who didn’t have a stethoscope or needle in her hand, and he couldn’t believe what a difference it made. Swallowing against the swell of emotion in his throat, Liam casually dropped Kiera’s hand. Without the excuse of running from the Italian police, he wasn’t sure she’d be comfortable with the contact. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her off.

  Kiera brushed her hair off her face. “I’ve never run from the police before.” Her smile could have lit the streets of Rome for a week.

  “Really?” said Liam. “We do it all the time.”

  Kiera chuckled.

  “My shoes are ruined.” David stomped his foot and water squished out of the seams.

  Kiera smothered her laughter with her hands. “Plus, you dropped your gelato.”

  David put both his hands over his heart as if he’d been wounded. “I don’t even remember what it tastes like.”

  “Ha!” Kiera nudged David’s wet foot with her shoe. “That’s what you get for ordering boring vanilla.”

  David shook his head and smiled. Not an all-out beamer of a grin, the smile offered a gli
mmer of the brother who used to drive too fast and invite the whole school over for baseball games on the back lawn. Liam studied Kiera out of the corner of his eye as she continued to joke about David’s new wetsuit.

  “Now that was punny,” replied David.

  Who was this woman who had cast a spell over both the Bernhard brothers?

  She turned her exotic blue eyes on Liam and asked, pointing to the map over the door, “Where exactly are we going?”

  Liam and David checked the sign. “Looks like we’re circling to the train station.”

  “Will that take us back to the airport?” she asked.

  “Why, do you have somewhere you need to be?” asked David.

  “Noooo. I thought maybe you two had a plan or a bucket list or something.”

  Liam glared at David. “You told her?” After meeting Kiera, the idea of marrying her to nurse him through his death had taken a back seat to just wanting to be married to the woman. Liam had hoped to keep his illness a secret, at least for a while. He’d wanted to know what it felt like to be a whole man, to be married without death hanging over his shoulder. Shrugging off his disappointment, he decided twenty-four hours, in relation to his life span, was longer than he could have hoped for.

  David smirked and pointed at Kiera. “She thought you were a drug dealer.”

  “Uh.” Kiera waved her hands like she was trying to stop a runaway train. “Not a real drug dealer. A prescription drug dealer.”

  Liam raised one eyebrow. “And that’s different from a regular drug dealer? How?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Besides the whole breaking the law thing, I guess the biggest difference would be body piercings.”

  “Body piercings?”

  “Yeah. My patients who become addicted to painkillers don’t have body piercings. Well, maybe a small nose ring or something. I’m guessing regular drug dealers …” She trailed off. “You know what, never mind. All that matters is that I know the truth.” Smiling mischievously, she added, “Besides, it’s a good thing I knew before the whole police chase thing.”

  “Would you have turned us in?” Liam gave her his smolder once again.

  She thought about it for a moment. “Probably.”

  “Really?” David blinked.

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I get paid either way and I’d already finished my gelato, so …”

  Liam laughed. “It’s all about the gelato.” He took out his phone and pulled up a map of Italy. “So, get this. We can cross the whole country by train in just a couple of hours.”

  “So?” David prompted.

  “So, since you’re already wet, I think we should swim in both the Adriatic and Tyrrhenian Seas in one day.”

  “But my swimsuit is on the plane,” protested Kiera.

  “I’ll have Ella meet us at the train station.” David pulled out his phone. It was wet, but still worked thanks to the waterproof case he insisted on buying.

  “Train? You guys don’t want to rent a car?” Kiera asked.

  “Nope. I kind of feel like riding the rails.” Liam had gotten used to doing what he wanted, following his whims like a child chasing a butterfly. Traveling with David was easy. He wouldn’t complain about riding all day in wet clothes. Guys were like that. Now that he had a wife, Liam needed to think of a woman’s preferences and comfort. They weren’t rough-and-tumble, jump-out-of-bed-and-go kind of people—at least his mother was not. And Kiera, with her long hair and perfect makeup, might slow them down. He tucked away a grin—the wait would be worth it; she was stunning. “If you’d be more comfortable in a car, we can certainly get one.”

  “Oh, I’m okay either way. I don’t think I’ve ridden on a train before. Ever.” Her eyes began to sparkle. “This will be new for me.”

  Liam felt her energy and enthusiasm as if it were his own. He reached for her hand and this time held on. She didn’t know it yet, and Liam was just beginning to realize it himself, but being married changed a person—it was changing him.

  7

  The Adriatic Sea was cold. Liam dived in and came up gasping. Kiera worked her way into the water, squealing each time a wave hit. David walked out, his jaw clenched in determination.

  Shivering, Kiera clutched her arms across her body. “Does this count?”

  “I’m counting it.” David ran for shore. An older Italian couple, dressed in long pants; running shoes; and scarves; pointed and laughed at the crazy American as he barreled out of the sea, splashing and flipping water. Few people walked the beach, and David was quite the show.

  Though the chill crept into his bones, Liam stroked farther out. His last time in the Adriatic, he wanted to let it in his fibers, sear into his memory so he couldn’t forget the experience. On the cusp of being tired, Liam’s thoughts turned dark, and he wondered if freezing was a kinder way to go than what lay ahead.

  “Liam,” Kiera called. Hearing her voice over the water was a small miracle, which reminded him he still had some life to give.

  After a quick shake-off, David checked the train schedule on his phone. “If we hurry, we can make the next train and have plenty of time on the beach before dinner.”

  “Let’s hurry, then.” Liam’s muscles and joints were tight from the cold. Enjoying the experience, because it was new and different and because he had tuned in to his body in a way a young man rarely does, Liam concentrated on the aches.

  Kiera walked beside him, allowing David—and Siri— to plot the course. “You’re quiet. Are you all right?”

  “I’m hurting—but I want to.”

  “Why would you want to hurt?” She adjusted the towel she’d wrapped around her waist. They hadn’t brought a change of clothes; their meeting with Ella in Rome was short as the conductor called their train, and the three of them could pass for beach bums.

  Liam slowed his steps as they entered an open-air market where vendors sold leather jackets and purses, bright-colored scarves and hats, stationery, and flip-flops. Tourists wandered back and forth between booths, their knapsacks bulging with bargains.

  “I want to feel all there is to feel. Good and bad. Before I can’t feel anymore.”

  Kiera opened her mouth, but Liam held up his finger. “The one thing I refuse to feel is sorry for myself. So don’t try and placate me or tell me everything is going to be all right.”

  “Okay.” Kiera started walking again, and Liam matched her slow stride.

  “I was thinking about this last night. We have five senses, right?” He needed to talk to someone about the reasoning and musings he did in the quiet hours. David was a great action guy, fun to take on an adventure, but he didn’t like to delve into theology or talk about serious matters. Liam was testing the waters with Kiera. If she couldn’t handle his deeper thoughts, then he would truly be alone in this world—and that was a scary idea.

  “Right,” she encouraged him on.

  “Well, taste, touch, and smell all happen within the body. But sight and hearing can happen without a body—like a spirit can see and hear.”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, I want to taste, touch, and smell while I still can.”

  Kiera was quiet for a moment. Liam listened to the sound of tennis shoes on cobblestones and a child asking for a sweet.

  “Do you think that’s why we rely on sight and hearing so much?” Kiera asked.

  Liam lifted one side of his mouth. “I’m not sure I follow.” But he wanted to. Most people would have felt sorry for him—he’d seen enough looks of pity to last two lifetimes. Not his wife. Either she was indulging him, for which he would like her all the more, or she had boarded his train of thought and was taking it to the next station, for which he could confirm she was his soulmate.

  “Well, if we could see and hear before we were born, then we would have relied on those two senses to gather information. When we’re born, we use what we know, and the other three senses are like a bonus.”

  Liam grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I think that’s very l
ikely.”

  “Which of the three is your favorite?”

  “Taste.” Liam licked his lips; the salty sea lingered.

  Kiera laughed. “I should have guessed.”

  David joined them. “We need to pick up the pace.” He pointed to his phone.

  Aware of his role as husband and provider, Liam stopped in the middle of the market. “Kiera, if you’d like to change, we can miss this train and catch the next one.”

  “I didn’t bring my suitcase.” Kiera lifted her shoulders. “Besides, the whole point was to swim in both seas in one day.”

  “We can still make it.” Liam waved his hands. “Everything you could need is right here.”

  Kiera spun in a slow circle. “Maybe just a skirt.” She pointed to a display of peasant skirts. David dashed over, pulling wet cash out of his back pocket. Kiera laughed as he shoved a skirt, a blouse, a scarf, and a new pair of strappy sandals into her arms. She donned it all right in the middle of the street, ignoring the raised eyebrows.

  “You look like a gypsy,” said Liam.

  “I feel like a gypsy.” Kiera lifted her arms and swiveled her hips.

  Liam felt a spark of something he hadn’t in a long time—desire; a feeling he’d like to experience more before he didn’t have the body to do so.

  “Train,” David demanded, cutting through the charged atmosphere with his insistence.

  They power-walked the rest of the half mile to the station, making it on board before the porter shut the doors.

  8

  The ride from the east coast to the west coast was tepid and beautiful. A strange mix of ancient and just old passed by the open windows, accompanied by the clack-clack of the wheels and the swaying of the car.