Sunrise in Florence

by Kathleen Reid

  “Not true! But I do love it here . . . ” Her words hung in the air.

  He was quiet for a moment and then said, “I can’t wait to get the official tour of your new home. It’s really impressive. You did well.”

  “Thanks! I was able to buy all of the existing furniture from the previous owner, so it made everything so easy on that front. You’re lucky you didn’t come last week because I recently opened up this wall and it was a mess in here.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about her discovery, but she decided to wait. “I have so much to tell you! I went to Rome for the weekend to escape the mess.”

  “You went by yourself?”

  “Yes! This is my new normal. Seems crazy that I’m just getting comfortable exploring. I met this wonderful Swiss woman named Elsa in the Sistine Chapel and her daughter, Beatrice, who works for the Vatican.”

  “That’s awesome, Rose. I’m proud of you for exposing yourself to new things.”

  “Dare I ask if you’ve seen Doris?”

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  “She’s still very upset that you left Charlottesville and committed to a life in Italy without your family, but you knew that,” he said softly.

  “Come on, there are lots of ways to keep in touch. If she was that worried about me, she could get down off her high horse and actually visit.” Rose caught the note of bitterness in her own voice.

  “For what it’s worth, your mother lost the love of her life way too young. She was never the same after that, even though she remarried. Jack used to talk to me about that a lot. We both know that she clung too tightly to you. Anyway, she’s just not in a place to be happy for you.”

  They paused for a moment in silent understanding.

  “Fair enough,” said Rose, considering his words. To fill the sudden quiet, she added, “So, I love all of the Old World features here, from the original iron handrails to the beamed ceiling. But the best is yet to come.” She took his hand and led him upstairs.

  “Well,” he joked. “I thought we’d have a romantic dinner first.”

  Rose laughed and watched as Ben admired the decor and all the modern conveniences. “Check this out. I put a stackable washer and dryer up there.”

  He looked around him. “This place is huge,” he exclaimed. “You could do cartwheels across the floor.”

  “Yup. And check out the renovated bath.”

  He stuck his head in the door and peered at the spacious shower and double sinks. “I think I forgot my toothbrush.”

  “I’ll find you an extra. I’m still getting organized. But you’ve just won the award as my first guest. Jack won’t like that.” Rose pulled back the curtain to open the sliding glass door.

  “Wow! This is spectacular! Look at this view.”

  The sun shone on the terra-cotta rooftops as they walked outside. The morning rain had yielded to the sunny summer afternoon.

  “I had my coffee up here this morning,” Rose said. “It’s amazing. I’m still pinching myself that I did it.”

  “Well, seems like we could take in the sunset and enjoy a glass of wine up here tonight.”

  “That sounds great. I may have to run to the market to grab some dinner for us. Do you want to take a nap?”

  “I know I’m not supposed to be tired, but I’ve never slept well on any transatlantic flight. Would you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I want you to be comfortable. I don’t have to stay here.”

  “Really?” she said playfully, pushing him down on the bed. They kissed passionately, and she fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. “Let me go out and grab some dinner and wine for tonight while you sleep for a bit.”

  “I’d love that. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” At her resistance, he said, “Well, at least let me pay for everything. You’re a starving artist.”

  “You know, that would be true,” she replied with a giggle. “Except I don’t even qualify as an artist. I’m an ex-teacher with a crazy dream.”

  “Rose, you’re entitled to your dreams! Here,” he said, handing her his VISA card.

  “Thanks!” she said, artfully plucking his credit card from his fingertips.

  “Angie used to be able to do that as well,” he said.

  As if hit by a bucket of cold water, Rose backed away and threw the card at him.

  “Rose, wait. I didn’t mean it. I’m tired and shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I’m going to grab us some dinner and we’ll talk when I get back.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  Rose left and wondered if Ben’s visit would make or break them.

  ***

  Walking out along the streets of Santa Croce calmed her nerves as she made her way to the market. Dinner would consist of some fresh bread, salads, penne pasta in meat sauce and some Ruffino Chianti. The preparation was simple, and she grabbed some extra garlic.

  Ben’s slip had irritated her. She wasn’t quite sure what ended his marriage, but it very well could have been money. She thought about how deeply she and Ben were connected. She had enjoyed other relationships over the years, but no one had ever captivated her the way he did. Ben knew her family, her childhood, her school; he had even lived on the same street where she grew up. And he had gotten along with her father. The familiarity felt so incredibly good, and, well, she was just plain delighted to see him.

  A vision of the drawings loomed, and she decided she needed to talk to him about them. He wouldn’t think her dream was crazy, and she was sure he would have some good advice about the discovery. Ben was sound asleep on the sofa when she returned home. He was really way too handsome for her peace of mind.

  As she placed her items on the countertop, she eyed the opening in the wall, reminding herself to leave a message for the contractor to finish up the last odds and ends in her apartment. She wondered whether Lyon was jealous of Ben, or even really cared.

  The new wooden salad bowl she had purchased last week was christened as Rose washed and threw in some arugula and pine nuts. She chopped a bit of onion and red pepper. The homemade penne looked divine, and Rose decided she would never tire of pizza or pasta in this lifetime; they would always be her favorites. As she added extra garlic to the red sauce simmering on the stovetop, she felt Ben wrap his arms around her, kissing the side of her neck.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “I was wrong and, frankly, I’m embarrassed I said that.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, turning to face him. “Apology accepted, but you can’t ever, ever compare me to your ex. I’m a completely different person, and if anything is going to work at all, we need not to go there.”

  “Understood,” he said solemnly. “I really do feel terrible about what I said. You’re nothing like her and I don’t know why I snapped.”

  “I really don’t want to rehash the past while you’re here.”

  “That’s a relief because it wasn’t a particularly great time in my life.” The room went silent as they both got lost in their own thoughts. “This apartment is fantastic,” he exclaimed.

  “Thanks. I love it. I couldn’t be happier with things right now and I’m so glad you’re here.” She looked into his hazel eyes. “For how long?”

  “I fly back to New York on Monday.”

  “That’s not much time,” she said, turning back to stir the red sauce and place it on simmer.

  “Well,” he replied, “Ben Franklin once said, ‘Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”’

  “On that note, how is the Jefferson book coming along?”

  “Very well. I’ve been back and forth to Monticello a fair amount doing research. I’m thinking I may look for a place in Charlottesville while I’m writing. Dad seems to be doing well and I want easy access to
Jefferson’s world.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “On a lighter note, did you know Jefferson loved pasta, and when he was ambassador to Paris he ordered his secretary to buy a pasta machine so he could make spaghetti when he was back in America?”

  “Smart man,” said Rose.

  A short time later, she finished organizing dinner, and they left her apartment to walk hand in hand through the streets so Ben could get a feel for her new neighborhood.

  “What do you say we climb to the top of the Duomo tomorrow morning?” she suggested. “And then have a picnic lunch in the Boboli Gardens?”

  “Great idea,” he replied. “I know you’ll want me to see Michelangelo’s David too.”

  “Of course! Speaking of Michelangelo, I want to talk to you about something later, okay?”

  He eyed her. “You look suddenly serious. Everything alright?”

  “Oh gosh, yes. I just need your help on something that’s come up.”

  “Don’t tell me,” he exclaimed. “You want me to pose nude for you in your studio. If that’s the question, then I would be happy to be your muse.”

  “Ben Pierce! So you think your body is that good, huh?”

  “Well,” he replied, “you’re just going to have to evaluate my candidacy this evening.”

  “And what if I decide that your form isn’t quite what I’m looking for?”

  “Oh, I think I can get the job.” He smiled.

  “We’ll see,” she laughed as he put his arm around her and kissed her affectionately. Rose felt so incredibly happy in this moment as they exchanged smiles and paused to kiss again on the street. Before long, they made their way back to the apartment.

  ***

  Rose took a quick shower and put her hair up in a bun. She changed up her jean shorts for a cool sundress and flat sandals. Ben uncorked the Chianti and poured them each a glass as they made their way outside to her balcony to watch the sunset. Splashes of yellow, orange and pink filled the evening sky and Rose sighed in contentment.

  “This is an outstanding view,” Ben commented as he reached for her hand.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Rose said sweetly. “It means a lot to me that you made the effort.”

  “I’m glad I came too,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Hey, you seem to have something on your mind.”

  Rose took a deep breath and recounted her visit to the Sistine Chapel and how she met Elsa and Beatrice. Then she talked about how she came home to find her apartment a mess and then uncovered the drawings in the wall. And, most importantly, the dream she had about the intertwined hands in the drawing.

  “That’s unbelievable! Have you told anyone yet?”

  “Well, I had planned to call Jack at lunch today and then you arrived. I’m still in a state of shock and have no idea what I’ve found and why I had that dream.”

  “Where are the drawings now?”

  “I’ve hidden them here.”

  “Well, let’s check them out!”

  “Sure,” Rose replied, heading inside to retrieve them.

  The parchment was still dusty, and she wiped it off before handing it to him. Ben looked intently at the package, commenting on the authenticity and age of the moldy paper. He said nothing for several minutes as he studied the three images.

  “Do you think they were drawn by a Renaissance artist?” She wasn’t going to dare suggest that they were drawn by a master.

  Ben looked at the three drawings quietly and placed them on the edge of the bed in the same way she had to study their integrity. They both peered thoughtfully at the images of a baby, a young boy and the intertwined hands.

  “I’ve seen rough drawing like these in galleries,” Ben said. “They appear to be very high quality. I’d guess that whoever did them was a master.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “And you know the scene in the third drawing all too well. Are there any children depicted in the Creation of Adam?”

  “Yes, there is a figure of the baby, but not at this angle or looking anything like the one shown here. In the current Creation of Adam, scholars always believed that the baby shown may be Christ.”

  “And the young boy in the second drawing?”

  “I have no idea! It seems more like a portrait than part of a larger religious rendering,” said Rose.

  “My first instinct would be to photograph this parchment and send them to an art historian at Christie’s in New York. You know about that lost Leonardo da Vinci that someone found last fall? It sold for roughly $450 million. It made national news.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Rose. “Okay, works for me.”

  “There’s no harm in photographing these drawings and sending out an email. You may want to safeguard them and put them in a lockbox at a bank. It wouldn’t be a bad idea while you go through this process.”

  “Do you really think they’re legitimate?”

  “I have no idea. I mean, they could be well-executed copies for all we know.”

  “I wonder who put them in the wall. I have the strangest feeling about them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I was chosen to safeguard them.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. They mean something, and I’m no biblical scholar.”

  “My Christie’s contact will know the right person to evaluate this work. I’ll make some calls in the morning and help with a plan.”

  “I’d really appreciate that,” she said, putting the drawings back in the cabinets. She looked over to see the sun setting in the night sky. “How about a drink while I prepare dinner?”

  “Great idea!”

  It didn’t take long to put the salads and steaming hot plates of pasta on the table, light some candles and pour two ice-cold glasses of water. She opened a window to get some fresh air, and she sighed thinking that it was so great to have Ben there. Dinner was delicious and the conversation was easy and relaxed. They washed the dishes together and headed back upstairs to look at the stars in the night sky from Rose’s balcony. The silence was both beautiful and powerful, and Rose felt really connected to him.

  “My life is here now, and yours is still back home. I mean, you have a job there and your daughter . . . . Do we really have a chance?” Rose asked quietly.

  “I hope so,” said Ben, putting his arms around her.

  “Me too,” said Rose. “But no pressure. I have a long way to go in figuring out my plan, and finding those drawings has certainly complicated things.”

  “They could be worth a considerable sum of money, you realize.”

  The talk of money bothered her. She wasn’t a greedy person, and she was mostly interested in their historical significance rather than trying to make easy cash. She had a feeling that the Christie’s representative shouldn’t be the first to see her discovery. It occurred to her, again, that Beatrice could be very helpful in getting her to the right person. “I’m very private as you know; I’d never want to be anywhere near the press or part of some sordid story.”

  “Been there, done that. Having my divorce all over the newspapers was literally one of the worst periods of my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “I’ve gotta tell you, Rose. I’m really embarrassed I fell for that whole New York social scene and everything else that went with it. I don’t know what happened to me. All of a sudden, all that mattered was power and money and keeping up my image. Too much alcohol, too many drugs to stay competitive. And, well, Angie was arm candy and fit my vision of success. Such a dark period of time that’s still kind of a blur.”

  “What made you change?”

  “Angie isn’t a bad person, but she’s more interested in partying than being a good mother to our daughter. We fought way too much, which is no way to raise a kid. The
divorce was costly and we still don’t have custody ironed out. I want a joint plan. The bar is high because I had the best mom ever.”

  “You did luck out on the mom front. Cindy is amazing.”

  “I do have a beautiful daughter, which I will never regret. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  Rose pondered meeting Ben’s baby girl and she smiled, wondering how any of this could work. “Sure,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve been rambling. I just wanted you to know that I never forgot about us.”

  “Neither did I.”

  A new warmth seeped into her heart along with the promise of something more.

  The stars lit up the night sky around them. When he took her in his arms, the moment felt magical. It all seemed so beautiful and right. His movements were tender, and she could feel that something had changed between them. There was a shift in the way he was touching her, almost reverently like she was the most important person in the world to him. A whisper of times past flashed through her mind as she remembered the two of them together when they were teenagers. Long-forgotten memories and a sweet tenderness invaded her heart as she inched closer to her first love. The years seemed to melt away, and Rose knew she would never forget this night, no matter what the future held.

  “It was always you,” he whispered in the heat of the summer night.

  His words danced as their bodies molded together almost too easily. It was always you, she thought, as she touched him tenderly.

  “Hopefully, you won’t forget about me,” he whispered.

  “That’s not possible.”

  Chapter 10

  THE NEXT MORNING, THEY returned to the bright sunshine of the balcony, enjoying coffee and making plans.

  “Let’s climb to the top of the Duomo!” Rose said. “I’ve been dying to go and this is the perfect day to do it.”

  Ben smiled at her. “Okay, you win. And I’m sure you’ll want me to say hello to the David and meander around the Piazzale Michelangelo.”

  “Of course.”

  He looked down to check his phone for messages and raised an eyebrow. “Looks like my friend has already alerted his colleague about the drawings. He wants to see them immediately. What do you want me to tell him?”