Sunrise in Florence

by Kathleen Reid

  Rose threw back her head and laughed. “Let me take a shower and let’s explore the city.”

  “I need to go to the budget side of town to find some new dresses to start work this year.”

  “Oh! We’re going to ZARA, one of my favorite stores in Italy. The clothing is great looking. They have one in midtown.”

  Rose scanned her email inbox and saw a message from Beatrice. Rose sighed when she read the news; Beatrice’s team had uncovered another layer of dirt and there was a strong possibility that the drawings were, in fact, signed. She shared the news with Zoey.

  “When are you going to tell Ben?” Zoey asked. “You can’t put this off forever.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Rose, you’re too smart for that answer. How do you think he’ll respond?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be furious.”

  “Wait a minute, didn’t you say that Lyon was with you when you made the deal with the cardinal?”

  “Yes,” Rose replied, recalling his thoughtful expression.

  “Why was he there?”

  “Because I knew instinctively he had my best interests at heart and he’d never want me to do anything that made me uncomfortable.”

  “Bingo!”

  Rose gulped and looked down at the ring on her finger.

  ***

  A trip to the Whitney Museum of Art capped off a perfect day in New York with her bestie. The setting was spectacular, and they looked at a range of photographs and Calder sculptures. As they headed to the fifth floor, Rose’s phone rang with a New York number she didn’t recognize. She motioned Zoey to head in to the exhibition.

  “Hey, Rose. Glad I caught you. It’s Ron. I got your number from Ben. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Not at all, Ron. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m not one to the beat around the bush, so I’ll get straight to the point. Ben told me that you made some sort of discovery of Renaissance work in Florence. Is that correct?”

  “Um, I’m sorry, Ron. I’m at the Whitney with a friend and it’s hard to carry on a private conversation.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Let me be clear. There’s a lot of money at stake here if your find is legit. Any chance you can bring me the drawings so I can take a look? You could end up becoming a very wealthy woman.”

  “I’ll have to get back to you, Ron. Thanks!”

  Rose hung up, overwhelmed with anger. She paced back and forth trying to rein in her disgust. Once calm, she found Zoey enjoying the Calder sculptures.

  “Everything okay?” Zoey asked.

  “Not really,” replied Rose.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  They headed upstairs and stared at an installation of ten pairs of solid gold sneakers. Rose joked, “I could use some of those right now.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “That was Ben’s friend, and I do emphasize the word friend. He wants to evaluate the drawings for me. Says I could become very wealthy.”

  “You need to talk to Ben and tell him the drawings are sold. It seems kind of manipulative that he gave this guy your cell phone. Why didn’t he just ask you directly about them? I mean, Rose, you’re always so incredibly forthright.”

  “Do you think this is a deal breaker?” Her words hung in the air.

  “That’s for you to decide. It’s your life, but I don’t think you’re the type of person who could settle for a marriage without complete trust. Let’s cut to the chase. Ben obviously has made enough money. Why does he want more? I mean, seriously?”

  “Maybe it’s never enough for someone like him.” She paused. “Did I just say that?”

  “You did. And by the way, what does he do for others? What else is important to Ben besides money?”

  Rose looked at the gigantic diamond ring on her finger and suddenly found it very ostentatious.

  “When I was in high school, he was my everything!”

  “Honey, in case you haven’t noticed, high school was a long time ago.”

  “Oh, Zoey, what do I do now? If I break off the engagement, Doris will have a heart attack.”

  ***

  Rose returned to the apartment and immediately booked a flight to Rome. She was dying to see Beatrice and discover what was happening with the conservation process at the Vatican. She suddenly missed her apartment and all that surrounded it. She studied the diamond on her hand, slipping it off and on, off and on.

  “Rose, I don’t think you should just leave New York without talking to Ben face-to-face. You need to tell him that you’re disappointed that he gave Ron your cell number. You need to be honest about how conflicted you are.”

  “I know,” was all Rose could muster. “You’re right. I need to be honest, for both our sakes.”

  When Zoey left, Rose’s newfound courage disappeared as she contemplated how to approach Ben. Rose checked her phone and saw a text from Ben saying he was returning to New York, cutting his trip short. Rose reasoned that Ron must have called Ben.

  Rose packed her bags, then unpacked them, telling herself she was being foolish. One minute she was completely sure that Ben was not right for her and the next she wavered, thinking that they could have a great life together. She packed her suitcase for the second time and waited at the glass kitchen table for Ben to arrive. Her heart started pounding when she heard the door slam. He seemed disheveled, and she wondered if he’d been drinking.

  “What’s going on?” he snapped. “Why were you so curt with Ron? He was just trying to do you—I mean us—a favor.”

  “I’m not sure why you felt compelled to talk to him before consulting me.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Rose cringed at his temper. “Ben, I sold the drawings.”

  He sneered. “You did what?”

  “I did what I thought was right.”

  “How much?”

  “The Vatican bought them. Three million dollars.”

  “Were they legitimate?”

  “I don’t know yet. They’re still in the restoration phase of the process. These may be important pieces of art history and I felt they should be properly preserved.”

  “You made a huge mistake, Rose. You’ll regret not listening to me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a businessman. I succeeded by doing multimillion-dollar deals, and you let some fluffy, naive, idealistic notion drive a major financial decision. That was stupid. I knew you were going to pass up a great opportunity; I just knew it. You’re such a dumb—”

  “So, it’s all about the money? That’s all that matters to you.”

  “Why are you so idealistic?” he shot back. “I’m glad you got some money out of the equation, because you didn’t have a prayer of making it as an artist.”

  “You sound just like Doris,” said Rose, swallowing hard, feeling her breath come in small gasps. “No wonder she adores you.” Rose stood. “You know what, Ben, I think you got it right the first time with Angie.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She’s shallow and materialistic like you. I’m heading back home to Florence. I think we’re done here.” Rose slapped her diamond ring on the table.

  “Keep it,” he said. “It’s worth a lot of money.”

  “Money, it’s always about money with you. I don’t really like the ring, anyway. It’s ostentatious, just like this apartment.” She picked the ring back up and put it on her finger.

  “You’re not being rational. I think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s my mistake to make. I’m flying back to Rome tonight.”

  Ben took his bag and stormed out of the room. Rose grabbed her bags and hurried out the door. As serendipity would have it, the elevator was still on their f
loor. But when it opened back up, Rose stood face-to-face with Angelique, who grinned smugly.

  “Leaving so soon, Rosie?” she mocked as Rose brushed by her.

  ***

  Rose hailed a cab, and once inside its confines she started sobbing. She couldn’t help herself. Oddly, Rose felt relieved but also sad, especially for the precious little girl, Emily. Rose hoped the child would become a better person than her parents. She also thought of Doris, who would explode with anger and tears at the news. A traffic jam, blaring horns, and several tissues later, Rose arrived at the airport.

  Rose marched into the airport and looked down at the gawdy engagement ring. She suddenly felt embarrassed, wondering if she had, in fact, overreacted. She quickly stepped back outside and hailed a cab to take her back to Ben’s apartment.

  Her heart pounded for the next half hour as the cab bucked city traffic. She started to send Ben a text but thought twice. She hoped he had cooled off and they could talk things through. A sense of optimism returned.

  Repeatedly tapping the elevator button as if it would hurry things up, Rose took a couple of deep breaths. When the door opened to her floor, she ran to the mirror to wipe the mascara out from under her puffy eyes. Clearly, she looked upset, but she didn’t want their meeting to be melodramatic.

  Bolstered by her belief she was doing the right thing, she used her key to open the door. Sounds of loud music jolted her. Rose took a few more steps inside and looked around. Two empty wine glasses caught her eye. Laughter emanated from the other room. She edged closer in a state of disbelief; there was a silk blouse thrown over the living room chair. Angelique and Ben were in his bedroom, together.

  Rose pulled the ring off, ready to hurl it at Ben. In that instant, it occurred to her that it was worth a lot of money, as Ben had said. Nope, she decided, plunking it down on the countertop.

  She sneaked over to Ben’s briefcase in the living room and grabbed his laptop, which contained all of his contacts, research and client lists. Ben would have to meet her terms to get it back.

  Chapter 18

  ROSE WASTED NO TIME meeting with Beatrice. Beatrice picked Rose up at the airport, and they immediately went to her laboratory in the Vatican. Beatrice showed Rose the first drawing.

  “That top corner section is getting thin, but, Rose, we’ve tested and retested the paper and it does date back to Michelangelo’s time, so we are working with a historical find.”

  Rose leaned over the parchment and gasped, “Oh my God, I can’t believe it!”

  Beatrice took off her googles. “We’ve got an O-R-E-N-Z-O! All we need is the L.”

  “It would make sense; Lorenzo Medici was Michelangelo’s mentor and friend. Michelangelo lived with him in the palace when he was a young man, and that’s where his relationship with Lorenzo’s daughter began. And it would make sense that he would name a potential son after his patron.”

  “I agree with your hypothesis,” Beatrice said. “But it is just a theory. I’m hopeful we’ll peel away more layers of the other writing to get to the truth.”

  For the next several days, Rose observed Beatrice painstakingly clean the heavily soiled sketches, seemingly one particle at a time. It was like an archeological dig. Beatrice moved like a surgeon, carefully applying a gel solution to the parchment with a long, thin Q-tip-like brush.

  “I hope that we uncover the rest soon. This suspense is too much. It’s like watching paint dry.”

  “Restorations can take years, Rose. If you rush them or do sloppy work, you can ruin the piece of art.”

  “I love watching you uncover a sliver of the past. It’s absolutely thrilling, but I’m clear that this is not what I am cut out to do for a living!” Rose shook her head, mocking herself.

  “That’s the first real smile I’ve seen on your face since you got off the plane in Rome.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Beatrice. Thank you for letting me camp out in your apartment. You saved me.”

  “Glad I could help you out.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t picked me up at the airport that night. I was a complete wreck.”

  “I understand,” said Beatrice. “Your American friend sounds selfish and shallow; I do think these things work out for the best. Better you discovered his true character before you married him, or even worse, had children.”

  “I agree, and I’m sick of dodging him. He’s been texting and calling all week. I need to get back to my life in Florence and make a fresh start.”

  “That’s the spirit! He doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

  “Thank you, Beatrice. I’m so lucky I met you. This whole process has been an incredible life experience. Even just sitting here in the inner sanctum of the Vatican is a privilege.”

  “Cardinal Baglioni wants to talk with you before you leave for Florence.”

  “Oh really. Do you have any idea why?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “I’ll let him know I’m available all afternoon.”

  ***

  Rose headed down a long corridor to get herself a cappuccino, and her phone buzzed again. Of course, it was Ben. She decided that she was ready to talk.

  “Rose, please.” His voice sounded hoarse and jagged. “Don’t hang up. I’m so sorry.”

  Silence ensued.

  “Thank you,” she replied thoughtfully. “I appreciate the apology.”

  “It’s not what you think!”

  “Now that’s a good one.”

  “Listen to me, I swear I’m telling you the truth. I was really upset when you left, and Angie came over. It wasn’t planned. One thing led to another and—”

  “Ben, stop lying. I was gone for one hour, Ben, maybe ninety minutes tops. I can’t believe that you hopped in bed with your ex moments after I walked out the door. You wouldn’t do that if you really loved me, so stop kidding yourself.”

  “Rose, please. Give me another chance. I promise that we can make this work.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “It’s over, Ben!”

  “She was my wife. We have a child together. I don’t love her.”

  “I don’t trust you or the kind of person that you’ve become.”

  “That’s such a mean comment.”

  “Well, that was quick switch from contrite to rude. You’ve changed, Ben, or maybe I never really knew you at all.”

  “Rose, my computer. Did you take it? I have a deadline, and I need my computer immediately! You stole it from me.”

  “I guess we’re even, then. You tried to steal the drawings from me and failed. The difference is you can have your computer back, Ben, if and only if you meet my terms.”

  “What are they?” he snapped. “You know, I can have lawyers come after you.”

  “Oh, I hope not!” said Rose coyly. “That would be so stressful for me, which may affect my balance and, well, I’d hate to stumble and drop it in the Arno.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to sell my engagement ring and donate every penny of that money to charity.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s ridiculous!”

  “Do it or no computer. You’re going to give the money to Feedmore in Charlottesville, and as soon as I see a tax receipt, I’ll send your computer. If I were you, I’d hurry up and make the sale.”

  Ben cursed under his breath, calling Rose a barrage of sexist names.

  “Be careful, Ben, or your computer may just slip out of my fingers.”

  “I’ll send you an email receipt in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “At least some good will come out of our relationship!”

  ***

  The cardinal’s receptionist called to say that he would like to see her. Rose gulped because she found him to be a rather kind yet imposing figure in his crimson r
obes. “I’ll be right there,” said Rose, who made her way to his office, marveling at the breathtaking masterpieces that lined the wall.

  The cardinal seemed pleased to see her and motioned for her to take a seat across from his own.

  “Rose,” he said warmly. “I’ve been following the restoration process very closely and it may, in fact, prove our theory. We have long thought Michelangelo fathered a son who collaborated with him on the creation of the Sistine Chapel.”

  “That’s so amazing! It looks like the name on the child picture is Lorenzo.”

  “Correct. I also think there’s a strong possibility that the third drawing of the intertwined hands was executed by this supposed son and they would have discussed the image at length. They may have even disagreed, perhaps on how one of the most iconic images of the Renaissance should be portrayed.” He rubbed his chin. “A discovery of this kind has the power to generate a lot of publicity and interest.”

  “I think art historians would be thrilled to know that there is more to the story. Has a decision been made on whether the Vatican will reveal the discovery?”

  “No.” He looked at her quizzically. “Why do you think you found them?”

  “Oh my! I have no idea. That’s a really intimidating and hard question to think about.”

  “I believe that you are meant for a higher purpose, Rose.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’ll explain momentarily.” He paused. “Beatrice shared that you’ve been suffering from a broken heart from your American fiancé, I believe.”

  “Yes, Cardinal. He did not treat me well.”

  “Might I ask what happened to the young man who was with you on your last visit?”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m afraid I chose the wrong person and Lyon is gone forever.”

  The cardinal’s sympathetic look made Rose’s eyes well up with tears.

  “Might I be able to interest you in some humanitarian work in the coming weeks?”

  “Um,” she said, “I don’t understand.”

  “We— I mean a Vatican task force is working on a project in Nairobi, Kenya, to find ways to employ the local people. One of the most important elements is education. Would you be interested in working in the school? They’re desperately short staffed and I think you would be an ideal candidate to support our work there.”