The Sweet Life

by Sharon Struth

  They spoke in Italian while the others got seated then Julian turned to the group. “I’d like everyone to meet Ernesto.”

  The group responded with waves, choruses of hellos.

  Ernesto smiled wide, making the cracks of age lines more prominent and showcasing his yellowed teeth. “Howdy. Welcome.”

  Julian placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ernesto’s asked me to translate for you, because he only knows a little English. Ernesto grew up in Staggia and left here as a young man to work at a popular Milan restaurant. In his sixties, he retired and opened this place. He specializes in cooking traditional Tuscan food. Tonight, Ernesto promises to serve us some of his regional recipes. As an added treat, he will also perform some of his music.”

  A minute later, small tumbler glasses were passed out by two helpers, who then filled them from large bottles of Chianti.

  Mamie watched Julian as he talked to Ernesto, their closeness clear. Ernesto spoke with authority. Julian listened more than spoke, appearing to hang on Ernesto’s every word in what Mamie recognized as a sign of deep respect for the man. Their conversation ended and Julian turned around, heading for a table across from Mamie where he took the only remaining seat.

  She didn’t miss the glow in his expression. Happy. Relaxed. The kind of comfort and ease that comes with being with people who know you better than anybody else.

  People you call family.

  Seeing Julian happy lifted something inside Mamie’s heart. He deserved happiness. After all, he’d brought some to her. He’d made it easy for her to flirt again, and showed her she was still desirable to the opposite sex.

  She’d just found him and now the clock ticked on their time together. A reminder she’d better make the most of what was left.

  * * * *

  “I’m excited to try this food.” Martha turned to Julian.

  “You won’t be disappointed.” Across the room, Julian watched Ernesto give instructions to the wait staff. He looked back to Martha. “I have fond memories of being at my family’s Tuscany home when Ernesto would come to visit to escape the busyness of Milan on his days off.” Julian laughed. “My mom would always walk him into the kitchen and say ‘Put on an apron. I need help.’”

  Martha laughed. Jesus, he’d been babbling like a fool about himself without a second thought. What had brought that on? Joel started talking and Martha’s attention drifted to him.

  Julian looked to the kitchen, where he could see Ernesto bustling around back, shouting out orders to his two helpers. When Julian began to work for the tour company and moved back to in Italy as his home base, the first thing he did was look up the old family friend. For too many years they hadn’t talked, mostly due to the show’s schedule. After being fired from the show, Julian’s need to secure a tie to the past seemed as critical as air.

  Opening up about his background to Martha just now came out of nowhere. Another unplanned moment today, like kissing Mamie.

  He glanced to the next table where she sat listening to Sandra speak. Seconds later, Mamie’s gaze drifted to him. She stared, bolder than the way they’d made eye contact in the past. All pulling him back to every time he kissed her. First in the tower, then again as she made a purchase in a Campo gift shop, and later inside a store filled with ceramics.

  Was it a mistake? He’d been a wreck this past year and no woman had gotten close to him. Shit, he’d never let any woman he’d dated within arm’s distance, at least emotionally. Damned if Mamie didn’t feel so right in his arms, though. So perfect he didn’t care about breaking the company’s rules.

  “Have you been there, Julian?”

  “I’m sorry.” He focused on Joel, who sat in a seat across from him. “Where?”

  “An Etruscan burial site, not far from here.”

  “I have. There’s also one close to the farmhouse we can visit.”

  Ernesto stepped from the kitchen opening, announcing his first course: assorted crostini, followed by cold cuts, and in the center a nice chunk of Pecorino Toscano drizzled with aceto balsamico. Julian ate and drank in a way that reminded him of family gatherings while growing up. Laughing and talking with this group filled his chest with familial joy, the kind he craved after losing his parents.

  After they devoured wild boar stew served on pappardelle noodles, Ernesto exited the kitchen holding his guitar.

  “Questo si chiama, il mio cuore.” He paused and added in heavily accented English, “A song called ‘My Heart.’”

  Ernesto sang, his Italian rich and pure, each word settling on Julian’s ears and touching him with a loving hand. He glanced around the room. All eyes were on Ernesto, passion in their faces, despite none of them understanding what he sang. The Italian language was like that, carrying a melody of its own.

  Mamie’s eyes glistened as she watched, deeply moved like the others. Julian couldn’t stop watching her while Ernesto sang about Tuscany. History. Golden fields. A strong culture. And pride. God, these people were proud. The same pride Julian had once found in Tuscany, both in the company of blood relatives and friends, new and old. This place nourished him. It was home.

  At that moment, Mamie’s eyes drifted from Ernesto to Julian. Beautiful Mamie, with eyes dark as chocolate, and lips he wanted to feel on his again. Right here, right now. This week had been special, in a large part due to her. And just like the things written in Ernesto’s song, she filled a space in Julian’s heart.

  Was he falling for someone, during the lowest point in his life?

  Loud applause and shouts of “Brava” drew Julian back to the room. Ernesto stood, took a bow, and moved to Julian’s side.

  “You read the words of my song to them? Sì?”

  “Of course.” Julian stood to address the group and translated the words on the paper. But he didn’t dare look into Mamie’s eyes while reading this, afraid the turmoil and vulnerability inside of him would come spilling out.

  He finished reading and excused himself to get some fresh air outside.

  On his way out, a hard, cold reality hit. He wanted Mamie to understand him, but what would she think of a man who’d coaxed another man to his death? Probably not much.

  * * * *

  “Next time I see Ernesto, I’ll pass along your message.” Julian turned away from his hotel room window, where he’d been staring out into the darkness. “Great talking to you, Jen. Love you.”

  He hung up the phone, got undressed, and slipped on some boxer shorts. Before crawling into bed, he detoured to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Since leaving Ernesto’s restaurant, Julian had a strong urge to talk to his sister. In part because tonight reminded him of their family, but he had another motive, too.

  As he’d walked into his room, he calculated the time as five o’clock in the States and found her exactly where he thought he might: fixing dinner while the kids did their homework.

  The call had been made with a personal agenda in mind. On the bus ride home, his strong feelings for Mamie got all twisted up with fear she’d reject him once she knew what he’d done the day Carlos died. By the time they reached the hotel, he’d figured out a way to test the reaction of another woman he was close to…his sister. After he’d been fired from the show, his email to his sister simply stated he was pursuing other interests. She only wrote back to say she was glad he no longer led that life, not asking for specifics.

  If Jenny didn’t blame him for what happened during the winged suit accident, maybe he could feel more confident speaking to Mamie about it.

  Only when Jenny answered the phone and he talked about the dinner, her excitement at hearing about their childhood family friend had squashed the topic at hand. Or maybe he’d grabbed it as a handy excuse to avoid talking about the real reason he’d called.

  So how could he ever raise this with Mamie?

  He lifted the toothbrush, but instead of using it, he stared in the
mirror, ashamed of his image watching back. The tattoo mocked him. If he could, he’d rip it off his skin. After quickly brushing his teeth, he went to bed.

  Lying in the dark, a new kind of fear took hold, found in his real feelings for Mamie. A rejection from her might push him off the edge. In all decency, though, he couldn’t have her in his life, even briefly, without telling her the truth, which represented the worst of him.

  The road ahead. A game of risk.

  He couldn’t have her if he couldn’t be honest, but that honesty could make her want nothing to do with him.

  There was one other way out. As it stood right now, they’d only shared a few kisses and close moments. Ending it now would surely mean they could stay friends. As friends, he didn’t feel an obligation to tell her about his shameful act on the show.

  Guilt pounded him hard and fast. This was a shitty thing to do, but in her, he sensed strength. More strength than he possessed lately. Further proof she deserved better than him.

  The real question was, if he went ahead and suggested they cool it a bit, could he handle it?

  Chapter 14

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Mamie put down her toothbrush, rinsed her mouth with water, and grabbed a towel as she went to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she caught Julian glancing both ways down the hallway.

  She opened the door while wiping the side of her mouth dry. “Am I late?”

  He jerked his head her way. “No.”

  “Good. I thought we were leaving for the trials at eight sharp.”

  “I wanted...” He pointed inside. “Can we talk inside?”

  “Oh sure.” She moved aside and tossed the towel on the dresser. He sounded nervous. “Something wrong?”

  He stepped into the room. In the entryway, the overhead light showed his tired eyes. “Let’s talk.”

  “Okay.”

  He took her hand, led her to the bed and motioned for her to sit at his side. He inhaled. “You know I like you.”

  “Oh, shit. You’re ending things?” Said half-joking, she worried when a pained expression flashed across his face.

  “I’m sorry. I started thinking about us last night while I tried to sleep. My job. I can’t lose it right now.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “Come on, Mamie. I’ve broken so many rules, letting you on the bus—”

  “You could’ve said no.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “And you offered to take me on those not-a-date things we’ve done.”

  “So I could keep an eye on you.”

  The words struck like a sucker punch to the gut. Julian babysat her so she didn’t do anything drastic while on his tour. “Oh. I see. Well, last I checked, you kissed me.”

  He hung his head. “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t thinking.”

  An ache pulsed in her chest. She stood and walked to the window.

  Starting over again sucked. Married life had been filled with certainty. Learning to date again wasn’t. Her recently discovered desire was now battered and bruised by his abrupt shift.

  He came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Mamie. Look at me.”

  She couldn’t. Rejection brought a return of all the vulnerability that came with loss. Alone. Again. In a way, so much easier than needing others.

  He turned her around. “Please, Mamie.”

  She lifted her gaze to his sad eyes. “What?”

  “This past year, I’ve had some problems. You deserve better than a broken man like me.”

  “Isn’t that my choice?”

  He shrugged. “I think you can do better.”

  “You could talk to me about your problems. I told you about my husband and the accident.” She swallowed, aware she hadn’t told him everything, including the reason she landed on this tour.

  “Yes, you did.” He thought for a moment then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about me right now. You’ll have to believe me when I say you can do better. I’m not a good man.”

  “I hate hearing you say that.” She wanted to blurt out the story about him she’d read on the internet, tell him she figured out he was Eddie from the adventure show. Only she found the information by snooping behind his back, and so she’d have to wait until he was ready to tell her. Instead, she took his hand. “That’s not true. Everyone likes you.” More quietly, she said, “I like you.”

  He shut his eyes while shaking his head. “But you don’t know me or what I’ve done.”

  “Only because you won’t talk to me.”

  He opened his eyes and frowned. “It’s not you. I don’t want to talk about my problems with anybody.”

  “I didn’t think—” Hard as she wanted to believe she’d become special to him, that she wasn’t just anybody, it counted as her first mistake. Reasonably, what they’d done together just barely scratched the surface of dating. No matter how intense their moments together had seemed.

  She stepped to the end of the bed and sat down. “You know what? This is fine.” She tried to sound chipper. “Just go. Easier to end whatever we started after eighteen hours. Let’s pretend this thing between us never happened for what’s left of the tour.”

  His voice cracked. “It’s for the best.”

  She wanted to scream how it wasn’t best, but instead she dropped her chin to her chest and bottlenecked all the upset swirling inside her, waiting to sprout.

  “I can still take you to the trials.”

  Her throat grew thick. “No, but thank you.”

  He got down on one knee in front of her, reached out and tilted her chin up so he could see her face. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to step into my mess. I’m trying to protect you.”

  Her head pounded. Maybe this was personal. Maybe it wasn’t. But she couldn’t handle getting attached to a man and having him leave. Or maybe she could, but this first time hurt.

  He watched her intently, the despair in his eyes obvious. She pulled herself together. “My life has been a mess since the car accident. I didn’t appreciate all the wonderful things I had”—she swallowed the hard lump in her throat—“until the Goddamn forces ruling the universe decided I wasn’t worthy of them anymore.”

  She inhaled deeply while trying to gain perspective on her reaction to what Julian had done this morning. “I don’t need you telling me what I do and don’t deserve. This was a vacation fling, Julian. Nothing more. But if it’s over for you, then so be it.” She stood, went to the door, and opened it. Stay strong. She turned to him. “I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

  Julian stood. Approaching the door, he watched her then opened his mouth to say something. Instead, he crossed the threshold into the hallway. She shut the door and let her tears flow.

  * * * *

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  The hotel maître d’ paused on his run past Julian, who sat on a barstool hidden behind a tall plant.

  Julian forced a smile. “Yes. I just wanted a quiet spot to have breakfast.”

  The short, dark-haired man nodded. “Certainly.”

  Julian stayed away from the rooftop with his food, worried about running into Mamie. Right from wrong tugged. Anticipating her judgment over what happened on his show had sat like a dead weight in his gut while he’d tried to sleep last night. The reason he woke determined to save himself the pain. Now, though, he felt sick in a whole other way.

  Voices in the lobby made him glance out between the ficus tree branches.

  Mamie walked by with Bernie and Sandra. Probably on their way to the trials. Mamie looked less upset than when he’d left, but certainly not herself.

  He downed the rest of his coffee, took one more bite of the roll. The logic to end things suddenly seemed thin. Without further thought, he got up from the stool and followed the
m out the door.

  He stayed behind the three of them, lurking far enough back while trying to think about what he should do. Ending things with her hadn’t fixed his problem. In fact, since their talk, an avalanche of doubt bombarded him. He needed to face one undeniable fact: the moment Mamie stepped onto that bus, he’d felt alive for the first time all year. It’s why he hadn’t been able to share what had happened to him on that jump. It would be like dragging out a dark cloud on a sunny day and ruin the one good thing he had going for him…. Her.

  By ending things, he’d hopped right back to square one. Ending things was dumb. An impulse decision. So, how the hell could he fix this?

  Following them on the cobblestone street toward the center of town, he remained back trying to come up with a solution. As they neared the square, loud booms from cannons mixed with excited voices from the crowds.

  He moved closer, worried they’d get separated in the midst of Palio fever. These crowds were rowdy, one of the reasons he’d invited her to go with him in the first place. Ever since he first laid eyes on her, he wanted to be there for her...even if it was obvious she didn’t really need him.

  They stopped at the back, behind a pack of people not far from the starting gates. The bleachers were about half full, the center of town the same. By this afternoon, every inch of space would be filled with people. Mamie kept rising on tiptoes, scanning the area. She said something to her friends, then started to weave through the crowd, moving closer and closer to the main event.

  He almost laughed. Leave it to her to thrust herself right into the action. Throwing herself into everything seemed all she wanted on this trip, and he’d diverted her efforts every step of the way. All in the name of keeping her presence low key from his boss, but now he wished he’d given her more leeway.

  The horses entered the arena, causing the crowd to roar, elevating energy in the town square. Several of the large animals whinnied and fussed, making it difficult for their riders to keep them in line. In past Palio trial runs, Julian had seen jittery horses ruled out for the real race.

  Unable to see Mamie, he hoisted himself up on the edge of nearby bleachers to look. Finally, he spotted her right against the barrier gate, maybe fifty or one hundred yards from the starting gate.