Sunrise in Florence

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Sunrise in Florence Page 3

by Kathleen Reid


  “You look fantastic!” said Rose as she brushed her hair and threw on a pair of jean crops and a white sleeveless blouse. Her wedge espadrilles paled in comparison to Zoey’s heels.

  “I’m ready to start our Italian adventure!” Zoey put on a layer of black eyeliner. “I wish my man were here. What a beautiful evening! I’m so excited. Oh, and I almost forgot; Lyon called and said he would meet us in the lobby of this hotel around eight thirty sharp. The first place is a ten-minute walk from here.”

  “How old do you think Lyon is?” giggled Rose. “I am betting twenty-six.”

  “I bet you a carafe of Chianti that he’s thirty-two.”

  “You’re on,” said Rose.

  At the hotel concierge’s recommendation, they found a traditional café three blocks north with red-and-white-check tablecloths and outdoor seating. When they had settled at their table, Rose told Zoey all about her field trip to see the David and, of course, the purse sighting in the small leather shop.

  “Sorry to have missed the David,” said Zoey, “but not that sorry. I feel so much better after a nap. I just can’t sleep on a plane.”

  “Totally understand, but let me say that the statue was just fantastic.”

  “Alright, alright. Don’t make me feel bad! I’ll reactivate my brain again tomorrow and I’ll pop in and see it. Maybe we should check out the Uffizi Gallery in the afternoon as well. That being said, I’d also love to go to that leather shop. So many fun things to do, so little time. This week is going to fly by.”

  “Well, when I live here, we can have regular adventures. So, that leather shop was so authentic; it even had that tangy smell. It’s located at the far end of the Ponte Vecchio tucked in between two jewelry shops. I can’t remember the name, but I’ll find it for you.”

  “That’d be great!”

  They ordered a margherita pizza with a homemade thin crust and a carafe of Chianti. Rose shared how she had spent the afternoon and wandered around the city looking at various neighborhoods. The waiter brought them some warm bread and their wine.

  “I absolutely love Florence. I can’t thank you enough for coming with me. It’s like being a part of history all day long.”

  “I’m a bit jealous of your freedom to move here. This city is amazing with all of these cafés, famous works of art and museums.”

  “It’s magical. So, I wandered about this afternoon and studied the two neighborhoods that Lyon suggested, which are Santo Spirito and Santa Croce. I particularly love Santa Croce because it’s right near the Uffizi Gallery and the Palazzo Vecchio.”

  “You need to make a list of the most important things in your search for Lyon.”

  “Great idea. I am certain that I want something with modern conveniences and a view of the city.”

  “And the building?”

  “Hmmm,” said Rose, taking a sip of red wine. “I want a building with a history; maybe something built in the 13th or 14th century. I can live in a modern building in the States, but it would be fantastic to find a home owned by one of the Medici.”

  “Well, if that’s what you really want, why not ask for something owned by Michelangelo Buonarroti’s family?”

  “You know me so well. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I was kidding. But maybe you should text Lyon and see if there is an apartment available that was once owned by someone famous; I think the Michelangelo thing may be pushing it, but I know how important history is to you.”

  “Good idea. I’ll confirm and make sure he has at least one historic building with some modern conveniences.”

  “Perfect,” said Zoey. “I’ll drink to that. This is going to be fun! Who knows? Maybe Stan and I can relocate too. This city is bellissimo!”

  “A world away from Charlottesville.”

  “Shall I state the obvious?”

  Rose eyed a statue in the courtyard and shifted her gaze to an ornate carved figure above the doorway of a church.

  “I’m convinced that I’m making the right decision by buying a place. I feel like a new person here—energized and excited again. I mean, it’s like living in a museum.”

  “Well,” said Zoey, “I have a confession to make. I’ve been totally binge-watching HGTV and think I’ve seen every episode of House Hunters International. Just like the show, you need to make your wish list for an apartment and focus on the house hunt.”

  “Agreed. I want to live downtown in a 15th-century building that has some modern conveniences. I want to be able to walk to everything.” She paused. “Maybe I can find something with a little extra space for a studio.”

  “Now you’re talking,” said Zoey, who added a splash of red wine to each of their glasses. “Here’s to finding your dream house.”

  “I’ll drink to that and salute my father, who made this possible.”

  Rose felt closer to her father now that she was in Italy. She could almost feel his approval. An image of his handsome face surfaced: dark hair, high, intelligent forehead, and gleaming blue eyes. He had this irritating habit of whistling when he saw something he liked. She recalled that she had always been able to ask him any question she wanted without judgment. It was a quality she always embraced as a teacher.

  She took a sip of her wine and smiled at the memory.

  Her father’s older sister, Sofia, had lived in Florence for a few years, and he used to visit her there when he was a young professional. His face always lit up when he talked about her; Rose recalled her lively personality and beautiful palazzo in the center of town. A vision of Sofia’s long blond hair, smooth skin, gold rings and stylish high heels came to mind. Aunt Sofia was always so sophisticated and confident, traveling from country to country. Sofia had only visited them in Charlottesville once when her father was ill, but there was no question in Rose’s mind that her aunt would surely approve of her decision to move abroad.

  Chapter 3

  AFTER TOSSING AND TURNING all night, Rose awoke Zoey with her chatter. Her excitement was palpable as she hastily put on a simple sundress and tan suede ballet flats. A colorful scarf completed her carefree look. It was another beautiful sunny day, and she was actually living her dream.

  “I’m going to head to breakfast.”

  “I need a triple espresso. You’re way too peppy for me in the morning. I’ll be there in ten.”

  Rose knew that meant fifteen minutes, so she made her way downstairs to the hotel breakfast area to get some coffee and refine her list for the realtor. She would tell Lyon that she had four priorities: a historic building downtown, modern conveniences, a view and maybe a bonus space for painting. Taking out her iPhone, she also made a list of her anticipated monthly costs. The good news was that she had diligently saved her own money for years, so she could go without working for a few months. Twenty minutes later, Zoey appeared in a pale-pink romper and coordinating jeweled sneakers.

  “Good morning,” she said, casually putting her sunglasses on top of her head. “Any sign of Lyon?”

  “Not yet. I think we have ten or fifteen minutes if you want to grab some coffee. I’ve had my shot of espresso for the day, but I’ll get a small plate of something to hold me over.”

  “Will do,” said Zoey as she made her way to the breakfast bar. “You know how I love options, and this spread is gorgeous. Did you try any of the cheeses or bread?”

  “No, but that creamy Brie looks decadent. Doesn’t cereal, fruit and yogurt taste better with a Renaissance backdrop of winged angels?” The enormous painting covered the back wall, and a small fountain gushed in front of it.

  “We’re definitely not in Charlottesville,” joked Zoey, gingerly reaching for a few figs and some goat cheese. “And this certainly beats the teacher’s lounge fare.”

  “Bellfield Academy feels a million miles away right now.”

  “Yes, but I just spied a group of teenagers over at that long tab
le on the left. One of those boys just chucked a few ice cubes at his friends. Glad I’m not in charge!”

  “Me too,” said Rose as she saw a handsome man at the front desk. “Do you think that’s Lyon?”

  “I hope so for your sake.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His thick, dark hair caught her eye. Rose perused his profile and was drawn to the tall man in a navy suit. His olive skin lent him an air of mystery, and she envied his high cheekbones. He was talking to an attendant at the front desk and laughing aloud. Rose liked his easygoing manner. The man checked his watch.

  “Is he really wearing a suit?”

  “Very professional,” said Zoey. “I like that.”

  Moments later, after introductions, Rose was caught off guard by Lyon’s penetrating blue eyes. She swallowed hard and shifted her attention to the discussion at hand as they reviewed her wish list. Lyon said he wanted to show her a move-in ready modern apartment on the edge of the city to start the house tour.

  “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk from here, and I think you’ll like many of the amenities. Some Americans move over here and refuse to give up things like clothes dryers in favor of a clothesline.”

  “I’d be okay with a clothesline on a back terrace,” said Rose. “I want an apartment that looks and feels Florentine with maybe some beams and terra-cotta floors.”

  “I understand.” Lyon said. “House number one is a large affordable loft apartment in complete move-in ready condition. I think it will give you an excellent standard of comparison next to apartments in historic buildings. We’ll look at three very different options that meet your criteria.”

  “Makes sense,” said Zoey.

  After a brisk walk, they arrived at a neat, clean stone building and began climbing three flights of a dark staircase. Zoey praised herself for her sensible shoes while Rose noted the cracked marble flooring with the freshly painted black railings. When they opened the apartment door, Rose was immediately struck by the fifteen-foot ceilings and bright open space. Light poured into the room from a large open skylight-style window. She was pleasantly surprised at how much she liked the apartment’s decor even though it wasn’t what she had asked for.

  “This is beautiful,” she blurted with excitement.

  The living room was tidy and modern with a pair of beige leather sofas facing each other. A rectangular glass table with art books and a copper pot of wildflowers separated them. There was a modern cream rug and a couple of armchairs. Various-sized pictures of botanicals and vegetables adorned the walls in the salon style. Sensing her questions, Lyon offered, “Would you guess that the owner of this place is a master chef?”

  “It’s incredible,” said Zoey. “Look at this kitchen!”

  With a completely open floor plan, the living room opened to a massive kitchen with a large center island. In keeping with the modern feel, the countertops were a sleek beige granite with dark wood cabinets.

  “This is so organized! I’ll bet this is where the homeowner keeps his rather large collection of spices. I’ve never seen so many small individual spaces for kitchen items.” Rose pulled open several drawers underneath the island; her curiosity was rewarded with the pungent scent of rosemary.

  “This space is immaculate. Take a look at the pantry. He has jars and containers with individual labels for everything!”

  “So impressive,” said Rose, running her hand over the Viking industrial stovetop. “I could really entertain a lot of people in this kitchen alone.”

  “With all of your new friends!” Zoey chimed in. “This place is amazing!”

  “Look at the built-in wine rack,” said Rose, whose eyes widened as her gaze followed the unit all the way up the wall.

  “Red wine is an integral part of the Italian culture,” said Lyon with a wink.

  “Yet another thing I love about this city!”

  Lyon pointed out the long rectangular wood table adorned with silver candlesticks and steel chairs. A china cabinet was in the corner.

  “Does this place come furnished?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it listed for?”

  “This apartment is listed at 375,000 US dollars, which I know is at the top of your budget. But you wouldn’t have to do a thing but unpack. Let’s take a look at the master suite,” said Lyon, ushering them up a small staircase to a massive top floor with skylights. A large queen bed was at the center of the room, along with an exercise bike. “You have so much room up here that you have many ways to use this space.”

  “I can’t believe how big and open this room is. Look at the light.”

  “What’s with the shower with no door?” asked Zoey, peering in the bathroom.

  “That’s an easy fix,” said Lyon, ushering them over to the spacious bathroom with a modern sink and shower. “You can put a sliding door on this doorway for a few hundred dollars; I can give you the name of a contractor who could take care of it for you.”

  “Good to know,” said Rose as she perused the space, thinking that she could put an easel by the window.

  As if reading her mind, Zoey said, “The light would be great for you to paint right there.”

  “Not so fast,” said Lyon. “I have two more important rooms to show you.” He led them both out to a back terrace with a plethora of potted plants and a clothesline. “Here’s your new GE clothes dryer,” he said, pointing to the clothespins.

  “Brave new world here,” remarked Rose. “I can go and buy a clothes dryer and find a place for it, right?”

  “Of course,” said Lyon.

  “I’m not loving this view,” said Zoey, pointing to a cement courtyard that looked like it had seen better days. “What’s that?”

  “I think this is the neighborhood kids’ spot for basketball.”

  “Oh no!” cried Rose. “A courtyard full of screaming kids. It’ll feel just like home.”

  At Lyon’s puzzled expression, Zoey explained, “We’re both high school teachers. My friend has wisely decided to trade the world of education for that of an artist.”

  Rose laughed. “I would hardly call myself an artist, but at this point in my life, I want to develop my interest in painting.”

  “You are a wise young lady. I think finding one’s passion in life is important.” He took them to the other side of the loft where there was a small, brightly lit spare room with a small bathroom. “You could definitely use this room as a small studio, and have it double as a guest room when you have company.”

  “Now you’re talking!” joked Zoey as she eyed the space. “Let’s not forget about the best friend from the States who wants to come often with her husband.”

  “This is a gorgeous option, Lyon,” said Rose as she walked through the second bedroom, noting the molding and fresh hardwood floors. “The homeowner has really taken good care of this property, and I have to admit that I do like how modern and comfortable this place is.”

  “Excellent,” said Lyon. “This is house number one.”

  “We’re going to call it the Master Chef Apartment like they do on HGTV.”

  “Master Chef Apartment. Very catchy.” Lyon smiled. “I want you to keep in mind that it’s in move-in ready condition when we head back to the city center to see a 15th-century building right in the middle of Santa Croce near the Uffizi.”

  Rose walked back into the light-filled living room of the loft and looked around again, taking in the glass chandelier in the dining room.

  “The chandelier looks Venetian,” she remarked as she walked around to view the ornate glass arms.

  “That’s right, Rose. It’s absolutely original to this property—yet another old-world touch to an updated space. You can also see where the homeowner tried to maintain the integrity of the apartment if you look over at the restored corner cupboard to the right or that sconce by the front door.�
��

  “This is definitely a contender,” said Rose, meeting Lyon’s gaze.

  “And if you tell her Michelangelo lived here, you’d have a sale,” joked Zoey.

  “Aha!” laughed Lyon. “So, you’ve got a passion for Michelangelo.”

  “She’s obsessed.”

  “Good to know. I think you’ll really like the next apartment, located mere minutes from where Michelangelo lived with Lorenzo Medici as he learned his craft.”

  Rose’s eyes lit up, and she felt a blush staining her cheeks as she met Lyon’s gaze. He winked at her and she smiled warmly, suddenly feeling like one of her students.

  “Are you ready to see your second option?” asked Lyon.

  “Absolutely,” said Rose.

  “This is when they go to a commercial break in the show,” added Zoey on the way out the door.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but she’s an English scholar,” explained Rose with a laugh.

  “All work and no play are no fun. I think being an HGTV addict is a good problem to have.”

  “You’re making my job easy,” countered Lyon. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  Rose looked at Il Duomo and remembered that construction on the original cathedral had begun around the late thirteenth century, but its first architect couldn’t figure out a way to construct a dome over its massive nave, so the building remained unfinished for nearly a century. They paused in front of the building, which took Rose’s breath away.

  “The second option that I found for you is a two-bedroom and two-bathroom apartment right over there,” Lyon said, pointing.

  “This is amazing,” Zoey said, scanning the majestic cathedral.

  “You know the story about how sculptor and architect Filippo Brunelleschi won the commission to construct the dome in the early 15th century?”

  “Actually, I have no idea,” said Rose. “Do tell.”

  Lyon rubbed his hands together as he looked upward at the magnificent Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral.

  “It’s one of the largest domes ever created. Turns out Brunelleschi was a gifted architect who spent a great deal of time studying ancient Roman domes. No one would listen to him until the group in charge of construction held a competition for local artists on the design. Soon after, artists from all over Europe began submitting ideas.”

 

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