Her gaze drifted to the top of a light tan stucco building. Between two second-story windows was a cracked fresco of baby Jesus and the Virgin Mary. Directly beneath, metal brackets held several lines of pants, shirts, and towels drying in the fresh morning air.
“Now see.” She lifted her arm to the display. Julian looked up. “This is why I love Lucca already. It’s so real, so lived in.”
He nodded, but watched her with a satisfied glow in his eyes. “Same thing I like about it.”
They started to walk again and she asked, “So, where are we headed?”
“Impatient, are we?” He squinted from the sun’s glare and lowered the sunglasses tucked in his thick hair. “Shouldn’t life be like a great book and save a few surprises for the end?”
She wanted to say no. Surprises didn’t always come in good packages. Instead, she smiled. “You win. I’ll be patient. Lead the way.”
“We’re almost there.”
He led her down a maze of cobblestone streets lined with stucco buildings, the outsides painted faded salmon, creamy yellow, and gold. They entered an open area with cars and businesses and stopped in front of a business called Cicli Bizzarri. Several rows of bicycles parked in front of the establishment.
“Here we are.” He walked up to the door. “You might want to have ID ready.”
A sign stationed near the front door read Noleggio Bicilette, which meant nothing to Mamie, but next to it in English was written “Rent Bikes.”
“We’re bike riding? The other day I was like James Dean in the country and today...I don’t know, Dorothy before she got swept away to Oz.”
“This morning you said you trusted me.” Shaking his head, he reached for the door and opened it, waving for her to enter first. “So short lived.”
She walked past him to enter the store. “No. No. I still trust you. I just haven’t ridden a bike in decades.”
“See? It’ll be an adventure.”
She tipped her head and grinned. “Or a disaster.”
Once inside, they approached a man who stood near a cash register. For several minutes, Julian negotiated in Italian with the older gentleman, who wore a shirt with gaping buttons near his navel. After some discussion, he made a deal. Together, they walked outside.
“Which ones?” the man asked, his accent strong and voice husky.
Mamie selected a white bike with a basket and Julian picked a dark navy one right next to it.
He unlocked them and moved the bikes out to the open area. The man disappeared inside the shop.
“Hop on, James Dean.” Julian grinned. “You’re in for the ride of your life.”
“Ha-ha.”
He studied her, the smile still on his face. “Come on. Be a believer.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She focused on putting her backpack in the bike’s basket. When finished, she hopped on and lifted her eyes to him. “Where to?”
“We’re headed to the Renaissance walls encircling Lucca.” He motioned to a grassy area leading up a small hill. Beyond it was a long stretch of trees. “Up there is where we’ll start.”
She noted the city wall with a broad flat top and several pedestrians.
He lowered his hands on the handlebar grips. “Ready?”
She grinned. “I guess. Do you think I’ll be able to handle all this excitement?”
He laughed. “Okay, Miss Sarcastic. When we’re through biking, I’ll happily accept your apology.”
She readied herself, one foot on the pedal and hands on the grips. “Let’s go. I hope I’m wrong.”
They peddled just across the street, up a hill, and onto the elevated, tree-lined path. For a while they rode between the patches of sunlight streaming through the trees, neither saying a word.
While she felt he’d duped her into this tame outing, her disappointment didn’t last long when the view opened up and she realized they were elevated above the rustic town. Passing the colorful stucco buildings she’d seen at ground level, she had a new appreciation for the clay roofs dotting the cityscape from this height. To her left, Mamie feasted on the countryside, an entirely different, more intimate vista than she’d had from her seat on the bus.
“You told me your parents owned homes in Italy and in the States. Is that how you learned so much about Tuscany?
“I suppose it didn’t hurt.” He quickly glanced her way. “We spent half our year here.”
“What did your parents do for a living?”
“They were in the travel business, too.” He pointed into the distance. “There’s another church. Lucca is said to be the city of a hundred churches.”
She couldn’t tell if it was the tour guide in him reacting, or a man who didn’t want to talk about his past. Pedaling slowly, she admired the shadowed mountain range in the distance. “What are those mountains?”
“The Apuan Alps.”
“Ever been to them?”
“Yup.”
They rode in comfortable silence, passing people walking dogs, couples strolling hand in hand, and others riding bikes. A motorcycle careened in the distance. A dog in a nearby building stood on the balcony and barked at no one in particular. A gentle symphony of movements and sounds performed for them as they rode atop the strong fortress guarding Lucca, a buffer between the vast mountains and the realities of life found in the maze of streets.
Walls weren’t new to her. A slow ache bubbled inside her chest. On the day she lost her family, the inside of her apartment became her own barricade. A place to hibernate from a world that showed her pity and where she stood alone—no longer with the ones she loved.
Her gaze traveled the majestic beauty surrounding this fortress. As she looked, a truth about her own life unexpectedly unveiled: by coming to Tuscany she’d found a beautiful world waiting for her. Maybe she had something in common with Lucca.
“Let’s stop for a sec.” Julian maneuvered off the path, to a spot beneath some trees.
She pulled alongside him and parked. He walked over to a low brick wall and she followed. For a minute, they stood side-by-side, staring into the city below.
“See that tower over there?” He motioned to an area. “Later we can climb it if you want. It’s not as tall as the one in Siena, but you can’t ever beat a bird’s-eye glimpse of Tuscany.”
“Will they be like the paragliding views?”
“No.” He lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and faced her. “But they’re still breath-taking.”
Julian’s hopeful expression made her feel bad for making it sound like she didn’t like what he’d chosen for them today. “I’m only teasing.”
He smiled and pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. “That’s a relief.” The smile slid from his face, replaced with a more solemn expression. “Seriously. Are you disappointed in today?”
His need for her approval caught her off guard. “No. Not even for a second. It’s a spectacular way to see the sights.”
“Okay. I’m glad.” He turned and faced the town. They stood together, their shoulders nearly touching. Part of her was afraid to move because she kind of liked being this close to him. The other part wanted to run away, because their closeness felt right, almost necessary. A scary prospect.
Mamie broke the silence. “Why did you become a tour guide? I know you said your parents were in the travel business.”
“I didn’t plan on following in their footsteps, but I just fell into it. Mind if I ask you a question?”
“Ask away.”
His phone rang. “Hang on.”
He pulled it from the side pocket of his shorts. Glancing at it, he tensed. He tapped the button, ending the ring, and pocketed the phone. “So, what’s the real reason you’re in Italy?”
She wondered about the call, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Real reason?”
“I just get a fee
ling there’s more to your story.”
Lies had never sat well with her. Mamie wanted this man to know her real story. Her loves. Her losses. Even the job that brought her to Italy. Only legally she couldn’t share about the job thanks to her publisher. Plus, the other passengers already knew her made-up personal tale, a welcome break from being with people who understood her losses. But with his comment, all she could do was tell partial truths.
“I recently went through a divorce. My uncle...he...” She squirmed inside. Lies and more lies. They needed a link to her reality. “Uncle Felix saw what I was going through afterward. I wasn’t very happy. He knew I’d always wanted to see Tuscany, maybe even write a novel set here, so he offered me the spot on his trip.”
“Oh. A divorce?”
She nodded, watching as he frowned and considered her explanation.
“So you weren’t happy about the marriage ending?”
“Is anybody ever?” She tried to stare at him without showing any signs about the real way her marriage ended, so he wouldn’t be suspicious of what she’d shared.
“Some people are.” He tilted his head. “Why the adventurous list?”
“I’m trying to start living again.”
Saying the words aloud gave them meaning and some power, even if she couldn’t mention her dead husband. Her throat grew thick and the clay roofs blurred. “Without going into details, I haven’t really been embracing life these days.”
She blinked away the wetness and turned to him. He didn’t say anything, but confusion marred his expression.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I’m sorry about your marriage ending. I guess I’m kind of relieved, too. The day you arrived, I drew other conclusions.”
“Like what?”
“That you were sick and, well, this might be your only chance to take a trip like this.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You seemed so tired that day.”
She laughed. “I was. I’d just taken a sleepless overnight flight. My health is fine. So you thought I might not live long enough to come again?”
“Something like that. I feel silly now.”
“You shouldn’t. Life can change on a dime.” Julian must’ve been very worried about her, a very sweet thought. “Being here, I hope to have more chances to take full advantage of what life has to offer.”
He studied her carefully. “You hungry?”
“For some reason lately, I feel like I’m always ready to eat.”
“Italy will do that to you. Since you missed the organic farm and vineyard yesterday, there’s one that’s a short distance from town. We can finish the rampart then ride there, grab some lunch, take a tour, and get back in time to meet the gang for the afternoon stop in Pisa. Sound good?”
“It sounds great.”
As they climbed back on their bikes, it struck her how much Ted would’ve loved this intimate way to learn about the city of Lucca. The kind of trip they could’ve made with Zoe, as she got a bit older. Maybe it didn’t qualify as the type of adventure on her list. These centuries-old sights and incredible countryside offered stimulation of a gentler nature, but she was certain it would be an unforgettable day.
Chapter 9
The bus slowly chugged in a line of early morning rush hour traffic. Mamie stared out the window as they passed homes and a few industrial complexes. This more modern area hardly seemed like the place Etruscans lived or the Renaissance was born. A while later, they approached a road sign. Firenze 3 km. Florence, the city they would explore today.
Sandra sat beside Mamie reading a book. When they’d boarded, Bernie asked if Mamie minded sharing a seat with his wife so he could “spread out a little.” The seating was close quarters, but having someone at her side on the bus ride was a nice change.
She scrolled through pictures taken yesterday in Lucca and Pisa. One photo with the famous leaning tower made her smile. Julian had insisted upon taking the photo and swiped the camera from her hands before she could say no.
“Hold out your arms,” he’d said. “I’ll take a picture so it seems like you’re holding up the tower.”
She’d hesitated. “I’ll look silly.”
But in a matter of seconds he’d talked her into making it appear as if she held the tipsy tower on its side. Not only that way, but also two more using only her index finger and a third where she pretended to do a kickbox pose. Later that afternoon, while sifting through the photos with him, she’d laughed so hard her stomach hurt. The moment was well worth lowering her guard.
She continued to flip through the photos, stopping at a selfie taken at the organic farm on the outskirts of Lucca. Fresh air, fabulous food, fields of grapes, and views the masters painted. Thinking about their simple meal of Tuscan bread soup, a bowl of olives, and a platter of cheese and meats made her stomach juices gurgle. Sitting side-by-side at a picnic table, with the vineyard a perfect backdrop, she’d snapped away. They could be any couple in Tuscany, laughing while making a toast with their wine glasses raised and trying to snap the photo at the same time. Happiness had rippled inside of her all day in Lucca.
“That’s a cute picture.” Sandra leaned over Mamie’s arm.
Mamie quickly lowered the camera. “Thanks.”
“You were with Julian, huh? I thought you met that other guy. The one who took you on the scooter.”
“Um, no. I’m not sure I’ll see him again.” Mamie glanced to the front of the bus, where Julian busied himself with some paperwork. She dropped her voice. “Julian offered to show me things a little off the tour track.”
“Then you two had fun?” The innuendo in Sandra’s tone couldn’t be missed.
Mamie smiled, even though she should downplay the outing. “We did. But, please don’t say anything. I don’t think he’s supposed to hang out with passengers socially.”
“I won’t say a word. But I’m pretty sure he’s single and so are you.”
“Yes.” Mamie should’ve been more discreet. “He’s just a nice guy, trying to show me the sights. Nothing more.”
Sandra rested a gentle hand on Mamie’s arm. “I understand, dear. Not a word to anyone.”
Julian took that moment to turn and look around the bus. His gaze stopped at Mamie and his eyes softened before he turned back to his paperwork.
His attention felt nice. Maybe he’d enjoyed their time together yesterday, too. Mamie remembered Sandra at her side and dared to peek her way.
Sandra smiled then looked out the window.
* * * *
Mamie and the others walked in a single file on the narrow sidewalk. On either side, old buildings made of thick grey brick and gold stucco exteriors held modern storefronts, tempting passersby with leather, ceramics, and other tourist delights.
Julian talked loudly over the traffic and pedestrians. “Florence was known as the capital city of Tuscany, the birthplace of the Renaissance, and was once ruled by the powerful Medici family.”
Mamie hung on every word, but some in their group kept stopping to peer into the store windows.
Julian sounded impatient. “Folks, there’ll be time to shop later. Right now, we’re headed for the Piazza del Duomo, in English, Cathedral Square.” He pointed ahead. “Please note the campanile—also known as the bell tower. After we see inside the cathedral, I’m going to climb to the top. Those interested can join me.” Julian raised his chin and cocked an eyebrow. “Bob? I assume you’re up for the challenge?”
“Dude, you just keep bringing those towers on.”
Carol, who rarely spoke and allowed Bob center stage, patted her husband’s arm. “Don’t push it, honey. You know what the doctor said.”
Bob put his arm around her. “You worry too much, hon.”
Julian smiled as he watched the couple. Mamie enjoyed how he’d find a reason to joke with
or at least talk to all the passengers.
She’d worried she wouldn’t like the bigger city, at least compared to the small, walled-towns of Tuscany. Yet Florence spoke the same voice as the other medieval towns, only louder.
A few minutes later, they entered the piazza. “Okay. We’ve arrived.” Julian opened his arms. “Take a moment and soak in the grandeur.”
Mamie swept her gaze over the magnificent cathedral. Towering above the public square, the structure stood like a gothic giant, the rusted copper-colored dome so enormous it filled the sky.
“Pretty awesome.” Julian appeared at her side, speaking softly. Their arms brushed as they stood close, staring up at the cathedral. “You can never get lost in Florence. Search for the dome to find your way around.”
“It’s massive.”
“The Florentines’ philosophy was ‘go big or go home.’ Their dreams for this dome were so big, it almost didn’t happen.”
“Why not?”
“The original church design included a wood dome. But something this large was impossible to construct using traditional methods and material. Yet the Florentine people didn’t give up. The story goes they had faith God would send someone who could figure out a way. Many years later, Brunelleschi showed up and made the largest masonry dome ever built.”
A few others gathered around to listen. Julian’s tone shifted back to tour director mode and he continued.
Mamie stopped listening, awestruck by the church standing before her. So many years to reach these incredible heights, yet the Florentines’ faith made them hang onto a dream. The notion punctuated her lost belief in God. This building reached up to the heavens, like a beacon to guide people to a familiar place if they ever got lost. Her parents, being true believers, would’ve loved all this symbolism.
Mamie appreciated the beauty, but didn’t believe God got this job done. If God was so powerful, why would he have taken from her people she loved and—stop! Not now. She refocused, as Julian’s voice rose above the noise in the square.
The Sweet Life Page 10