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The Sweet Life

Page 11

by Sharon Struth


  “Folks, stay together and let’s head inside.”

  Thankful for the interruption, Mamie followed them into the entrance. Lost in the eclectic beauty surrounding her, she forgot the negative thoughts about God and enjoyed the tour. Everywhere she turned were artistic expressions of strong faith, done so creatively some of her apprehensions about the church and God lifted. Afterward, they climbed the cathedral’s tall tower, blessed when they reached the top and could observe the city with a bird’s-eye view.

  When they left the church, Julian guided them to a street lined with outdoor cafes and bars, explaining how bars in Italy also served food like sandwiches. Mamie hoped to get him alone, but he disappeared while she admired leather jackets in a shop window. Instead, she ate at a trattoria on a quiet side street with a few people from the tour.

  An hour later, they met up with Julian and headed to the Galleria dell’Accademia. He walked ahead of them with Joel at his side, talking excitedly and pointing at different buildings. Mamie battled with her disappointment. Maybe she’d read too much into yesterday’s outing. She sighed. Best to stop sulking and enjoy the day.

  They stopped in front of a smooth, white stone building, with pillars cut right into the front facade. A burgundy banner above the door carried the museum’s name and a long line of people ran down the street leading to a ticket window.

  “Wanderers?” Julian held his hand up and smiled. “Stop wandering and gather around.” He laughed at his joke and got a few chuckles from the others.

  The group circled around him. Mamie stayed in the back feeling sulky.

  “We can bypass this line because we booked ahead. Your tickets include an audio guide. Everyone, try to follow the guide so we all end up in the same place in the end.” He glanced at his watch. “In two hours, we will meet in the lobby where we will enter. I’m going to give you your tickets and then head inside to the audio guide table.” He glanced around, avoiding her eyes. “Questions?”

  When nobody replied, he went about his task handing out the tickets. He slipped her one without making eye contact. Ouch. As they filed inside, further disappointment owned Mamie. The care she’d taken to put on a pretty sundress and delicate sandals, and to straighten her full hair now seemed ridiculous.

  She entered the museum and veered toward a display with maps. She wanted to be alone right now. Solitude, a close friend these recent years, always made her feel less needy of others. Part of her needed something from Julian, reinforcing vulnerability she’d spent years trying to avoid.

  “Coming, Mamie?” Sandra stopped and waited.

  Mamie squashed down the sadness waiting to erupt. “Go on without me. I’ll catch up at the end.”

  Sandra frowned and didn’t move. Bernie took her by the elbow and, as he drew his wife away, he said, “Give the girl space, honey.”

  Mamie watched them leave, took a map, and studied the layout. The museum housed many treasures. Besides several of Michelangelo’s famous statues, including David, she wanted to visit the display of musical instruments and catch a few Italian painters. She planned to soak in all the culture she could before this trip ended.

  Someone grabbed her hand before she took a step.

  She twirled around.

  “Hello.” Julian stood there, a grin on his face. “Want to come with me?”

  “Where—”

  “No questions. It’s a surprise.”

  “Another one?”

  He shook his head. “You underestimate me, don’t you? Didn’t I promise to deliver on our agreement?”

  Her sullen mood lifted and as much as she hated to give into her needs, she did. “Okay. I’m game.”

  He led her around a corner, his warm hand in hers. After guiding her to the wall so people could pass by, he dropped her hand. “In a minute, we’ll go through the entryway behind me.”

  She looked over his shoulder to an arched opening leading to another hall.

  He glanced both ways, then moved closer to her, dropping his voice. “But you have to do something first.”

  Her heart stuttered, flustered by his nearness. “Now you’ve got me worried.”

  “Oh ye of little faith. All I want you to do is close your eyes and let me guide you through into that hallway.”

  “Close my eyes?” She laughed. “You do know this sounds weird, right?”

  “It’s all about trust, Mamie.” His gaze skipped around her face. “Simple trust.”

  “This surprise of yours, it’s really list-worthy?”

  “Then you’re curious?”

  “Only about your mental health.” She cocked a playful brow.

  He laughed. “Mamie Weber, you’re a tough customer.” His eyes didn’t leave hers as he reached out and brushed a piece of fallen hair from her face. “Guess what? For the second time, I’m going to accept your apology when we’re through.”

  “Wait.” She placed her hand on her hip. “There’s something so great in that hallway, you think I’ll apologize? Confidence in a man is a very attractive quality, but whatever is in there would have to be epic for me to apologize.”

  He took a step back and extended his hand. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  She didn’t hesitate and placed her hand in his.

  He drew her near and his voice grew husky. “Now close your eyes.”

  Her body tingled, both from his tone and the suggestion. She did as he asked, any foolishness at standing in the museum like this overpowered by the game he played.

  His warm breath fell close to her ear and he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I won’t let you trip.”

  She let herself fall into the safety net of his handholding gesture.

  He started to move and stopped. “Hold on a sec. I’m letting some people pass us.”

  Voices echoed against the museum walls. Julian’s hand held hers tightly. Anticipation mounted. Her heart fluttered fast.

  “Okay.” The warmth of his breath brushed her ear. “Let’s go.”

  She took slow, careful steps. Did others watch them right now? Wonder what they were doing? She must look ridiculous.

  “Almost there.” After three more steps, they stopped. “We’re in the hallway but don’t open your eyes yet. I’ll tell you when.”

  She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry, her heart racing.

  He squeezed her hand, then let go, but immediately she felt the heat of his body behind her. “Okay. Open them.”

  She did as he asked. Straight ahead, a long hallway with high vaulted ceilings stretched out before her. Mamie blinked to adjust to lights after having her eyes closed. A series of unfinished sculptures lined the walls, but her gaze drifted to something beyond the hall, to a magnificent form at the end.

  Michelangelo’s David.

  Pictures barely did justice to the statue before her. Standing here, in the atmosphere produced by centuries of Renaissance creations, Mamie drew in a breath, awed by the sight at the hall’s end. A wide opening led to a separate room, framing the large sculpture in a space of its own. Positioned on the ceiling over David, a domed skylight cast a beam of natural light onto the carved marble, brightening it as if the heavens themselves demanded visitors pay heed to this magnificent work of art. Mamie’s eyes pricked with tears, the reaction catching her by surprise.

  Julian whispered, “It’s beautiful, sì?”

  She nodded, her throat too thick with emotion to speak.

  “Seeing this never gets old.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. Julian’s eyes glistened as he stared straight ahead, his raw emotion mirroring hers.

  He looked at her. “Ready for a close-up view?”

  “Yes.”

  Hand in hand, the moved toward the statue. Each step brought a new view. As they entered the room, Mamie’s spirits elevated with awe as she feasted on the artistry. Thick v
eins ran down David’s arms to his hands. In one he clutched stones, the other his slingshot. Skillfully crafted cuts made the curls of his hair seem soft and his expression filled with both concentration and cunning.

  She turned to Julian. “Want your apology now or later?”

  His gaze skipped over her face then he smiled. “Nah. Forget about it. Your reaction is all I need. Want to hear about David?”

  “Tell me everything.”

  “He’s nearly seventeen feet high and was made from a single piece of marble. This pose shows him before facing the behemoth Goliath. At the time this was made, Michelangelo was the first artist to sculpt David before the fight. Do you know the story of David and Goliath?”

  “I’m familiar with it.”

  He pointed. “See the tension in David’s arm? This is the moment right before he strikes Goliath. Michelangelo catches him at the apex of his concentration. He stands relaxed, but alert.”

  Julian put his hand on her lower back and guided her to another angle. “Check out the eyes. They’re watchful. Michelangelo creates tension other ways, like by the pulsing veins on the back of the hands.” Julian paused for a moment, his gaze trailing the statue from top to bottom. “But all in all, David’s bravery shines through. It’s a masterpiece.”

  Mamie studied the statue’s face and the details Julian noted. Bravery. She’d faced a giant the day she lost her family. Sure, she got up each morning and started a new day, but those days started with dread and sadness. Not bravery. “If I faced a threatening giant, I’m pretty sure my face would show fear.”

  Julian studied her for a long moment. “Yes, I suppose one would.” His gaze drifted to the sculpture and for a long moment he didn’t speak. “I guess David’s fears were backed by the best insurance anyone can buy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “His faith in God.” A flash of pain crossed Julian’s face as his Adam’s apple rolled along his throat.

  She couldn’t be certain what caused him to react that way; faith, fear, or something else. Yet something deep drove Julian.

  His cell phone rang and he let go of her hand to pull his phone from his pocket. When he glanced at the display, his jaw tightened. He pushed a button and it stopped ringing.

  “Everything okay?” Mamie asked.

  “It’s fine.” He stuffed the phone away, but the tense expression remained on his face. “Let’s walk around to the other side and take a look.”

  Mamie followed him through the crowd. Julian was avoiding something.

  She didn’t understand the distant sadness in his eyes at times, but one thing was certain: they’d both carried some extra baggage on this trip.

  Chapter 10

  “I love Siena, but not during Palio week.” Ricardo stared out into Siena’s busy main square.

  A frown marred his rugged face. Julian liked the Spanish tour director, a twenty-year veteran in the travel business and Julian’s trainer when he joined Wanderlust. But he could be a bit of a complainer at times.

  Ricardo lifted his drink. “When I got stuck with this tour again, I was one step from quitting.”

  Ricardo seemed edgier than usual. Or it could be Julian’s own bad mood. Gary’s call in the middle of his museum tour with Mamie had ruined a perfectly good day. He drank down the last of his wine but the angry edge caused by his persistent ex-boss still lingered.

  Josef chuckled. “My friend, you said the same last time I saw you in Rome during Holy Week.” Behind his German accent, his mocking tone couldn’t be missed. “I think Claudia is testing your patience.”

  Julian nodded his agreement.

  Owen piped in, the British company employee always the voice of logic. “One of my mates who lives in London, he quit his tour company and opened up one of his own.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out into the open space near their table. “A small operation, but enough to keep him afloat.”

  Ricardo leaned forward, placing his bulky weight-lifter arms on the table. “Sounds like too much work.”

  Julian picked up the wine bottle and topped off their glasses, finishing what remained. “Then just have another drink and relax.” Ricardo was starting to annoy him. Julian held up the empty bottle of wine as the waiter rushed by. “Another, per favore.”

  He watched the town staff set up barriers to form an inner circle in the ancient square for the famous horse race. The setup would effectively trap the tourists in the center during the race, where stepping out could be dangerous. The way Julian felt trapped in his own skin these days, unable to make any movement toward a return to his old self.

  “I don’t know, Ricardo. I love the Palio’s excitement,” Julian said, wanting to veer the conversation from his friend’s pessimism. Anything to boost his own mood.

  “Ja. Me, too.” Josef’s rich blue eyes trained on two pretty brunettes in tight dresses and pointy heels as they walked by. He picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table and removed one, eyes on them until they disappeared into a shop. He turned to Julian and motioned to the pack. “Want one?”

  Julian shook his head. “Since medieval times, this city has gone through a tremendous amount of work in preparation for the Palio. That’s a long time. All for a one minute and fifteen second bareback horserace. Pretty remarkable if you ask me.”

  “I’d say I have to agree.” Owen reached for a cigarette when Josef tipped the pack his way. “Ricardo, I think you’re plain old knackered. You’ve been with Claudia’s outfit longer than any of us.”

  A distant drumbeat grew and silenced the conversation. Seconds later a line-up of men wearing white and blue silk medieval costumes marched into the Campo. A drummer led the entourage, the full arms of his costume billowing as he pounded on the drum. Behind him followed men with flags emblazoned with the mascot for their Siena neighborhood.

  Julian marveled at the strong sense of community, so prevalent in many Italian towns, like the place he’d lived when his parents weren’t filming. He missed that feeling, maybe why a part of him enjoyed this job with Wanderlust. The waiter dropped off a new and uncorked bottle of wine, pulling Julian away from his memories.

  The men quietly watched the parade pass by while Julian topped off their glasses.

  Wine. An elixir to the agony tearing him apart. Michelangelo’s David always cut deep. The artistry. The message. Today, though, when Mamie mentioned fears, her words reached inside his chest and ripped open a wound. One waiting to burst since...

  Damn it! All he wanted was one day where he didn’t think about watching Carlos die or the part he played in convincing him to make the jump. The statue of David mocked him with a reminder that some men face their Goliath. Julian had run from his.

  The timing of Gary’s call today was uncanny. While the massive statue’s message almost swallowed Julian whole, Gary left another message asking to speak to him, this time his voice more emphatic, almost pleading. Julian had wanted to pick up the phone and scream, “Go away,” only the tone in Gary’s voice left Julian feeling bad. He hadn’t always hated Gary and they’d had some damn good times on the road.

  No, it wasn’t Gary he hid from. Julian simply couldn’t face the man he once was, ever again. The only thing making him better lately was Mamie. He loved the way she’d played along with his game at the museum. Closed her eyes. Let him guide her inside. While doing so, he couldn’t stop staring at her, breathing in her wholesome beauty, her perfectly shaped lips, and those cute faded freckles. The ones she told him she hated while they’d pedaled along the Lucca wall during the bike ride. What was it about her that made him feel...? Damn, he couldn’t pinpoint the emotion, but every single time she popped into his mind, a force inside his chest squeezed. A feeling he couldn’t recall having before—

  “And you, Julian?”

  He turned to Owen. “I’m sorry?”

  “Your group, will they see
the race?”

  “Only the trials. We leave before the race begins.”

  His phone buzzed in his shirt pocket. He removed it, seeing the same name and number that sent him reeling into a dark hole this afternoon. He almost picked up, but stopped when all his reasons for avoiding Gary cast a shadow on the nice moments they’d shared. He hit the button, sending Gary into the pile of his other messages.

  Another parade group entered the square. Ricardo stood. “A good time to visit the men’s room.”

  Julian and Josef watched the passing parade, following the spectacle until it disappeared down a side street further up the plaza. Owen had leaned over to talk to some British tourists at the table behind them.

  Josef glanced at Julian. “Just call him, would you?”

  “What?”

  “The producer. Call him back.”

  “How’d you know who called me?”

  Josef took a drag off the cigarette then exhaled a stream of smoke. “Your poker face sucks.”

  Josef had an apartment in Rome, not far from Julian’s home base in the city. When tour duty didn’t call, they’d sometimes hang out. One night they’d gone out to a bar, had a little too much to drink, and he’d confided to Josef about the death on the show and the truth about Eddie. Josef vowed to keep it silent, but he’d been the one person Julian could talk to about his problems this past year.

  Josef flicked some ashes into a glass tray. “Look, if you’re not interested, tell him and the calls will stop. You’ll get rid of your problem.”

  “Who said I have a problem?” Julian knew he sounded defensive, but didn’t care and tipped back his wine.

  Josef stared back, his silver-blue eyes softening with compassion. “Jules, if anybody understands denial, it’s me. Listen, what is the worst that can happen if you return his call?”

  “What have you been in denial about?”

  Josef stared at his cigarette, but his jaw tightened as he knocked some ashes off into an empty glass. His gaze slowly lifted and he smiled. “A story for another day, my friend. Let’s just say I understand your pain and didn’t want to accept the reasons why. Now why aren’t you talking to your old boss?”

 

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