by Robena Grant
“You must trust me,” he said, as if reading her mind. He picked up their beach bags. “There is ritual.”
“Sure. I understand.” Dia smiled. “I just didn’t want to miss out. Now, where do we find this motorboat?”
Nico laughed and led the way to the car. “Mama and the aunts make a picnic.” He pointed to the enormous basket on the backseat.
“Wow! Will Dia even fit there with it?” Susan laughed along with Nico, and they bumped shoulders before she got into the car.
Dia slid into the back and put an arm over the basket. No way would this masterpiece of aromas take a nosedive as Nico navigated the narrow hillside roads to the dock. She was tempted to snap off the end piece of one of the loaves of bread. It smelled so delicious. And it was still slightly warm from the oven. She took a deep inhale, and her tummy gurgled. That would be wrong on so many levels, but boy oh boy, was she tempted.
She listened to the banter of the two in the front seats as the car began a slight incline. All around, the olive groves had given way to lush foliage. Some trees she recognized as chestnuts. They hadn’t been this way before. Excitement built, and she tried not to think about the gate.
Maybe it’s up here? She pushed the thought away again. There were no signs of houses, and she figured it wasn’t likely. Monday couldn’t come fast enough.
“We be there soon. We take the shortcut.” As he spoke, the road seemed to fall away as they took a sharp bend. Below, the huge expanse of turquoise water seemed to rise up to meet them.
Dia gasped. She thought she’d seen every amazing view the island had to offer. “This is gorgeous.” Nestled in the cove were the town of Calvi and the dock where the motorboat awaited their arrival.
“Wait until Monday. Then you will see everything,” Nico said.
Dia didn’t respond, not wanting Nico to look back at her and grin while he drove the car down the narrow road that seemed little more than a cliff face. She averted her eyes from the precipice and concentrated on the happy couple in the front seat, while gripping the picnic basket just a little tighter. They were laughing about something. A few strands of Susan’s red hair whipped out from underneath the cream-colored silk scarf that she’d tied over her curls. They both looked like they could have dropped out of a scene from an old Cary Grant movie.
Dia smiled, loving that thought.
So far she hadn’t seen any displays of public affection between Susan and Nico, other than handholding and a lot of surreptitious glances and smiles. No smooching. She tilted her head to one side. There had been a couple of nights when she wasn’t able to sleep and had seen a figure wending its way between the olive trees toward the dark, silent house, just before dawn.
****
Nico and Susan stretched out on chaises on the beach, in front of Le Rocher restaurant, the space between their lounges minimal, their hands clasped tight. It was an exclusive place that even had service at the beach, but they had dined inside.
Now they watched the sun sink, and awaited the dark so they could take photographs back toward the lights of Calvi. They’d return by boat, but it wasn’t far and the sea was calm. Susan had shown no upset on the boat ride over.
“You like vino?” Nico called out.
“No. I’m good. Thanks.” Dia had moved her lounge a few feet away, to give them a little privacy for conversation. Last night’s conversation had been too intimate for her. After dancing, drinking too much without thinking of the consequences, she’d taken things slow tonight.
Itchy from the heat, sweat, sand, and salt water, she was ready for a shower. But Nico insisted they stay. Since he was the host, and the driver of the boat, she’d have to just grin and bear it.
“I’m taking a nap. Wake me if anything good happens.” Dia closed her eyes and thought of Carlo. Tonight she’d email him again. In a couple of days she’d be flying across the ocean to see him. She couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around him, feel the heat of his body pressed hard against her, his lips on hers, hands caressing her, voice whispering erotic nonsense in her ear. She smiled at that. It was potent nonsense that caused her body to light up, her stomach to flip-flop, and her nerves to tingle.
“Dia,” Susan called. “Wake up. You can see the lights across the bay.”
It felt like she’d only closed her eyes minutes before, yet darkness had definitely descended. She hoped she hadn’t moaned or touched herself with all of her erotic dreams. Her arms were still wrapped around her body, in a hug. Sheesh. That could have been embarrassing. Although, from the look of Susan’s pouty lips Dia had the feeling they’d been doing some heavy-duty making-out, not watching her at all.
She sat up and looked around, thrilled they had stayed. “It’s beautiful. The lights are lit up like a jewel box.” Dia stood, grabbed her camera and walked down the sand to the water’s edge. “I don’t think I’ll get any good shots with this little thing.”
“I have for you.” Nico pawed through his canvas bag till he found a decent camera with a zoom lens. “You take, and I send pictures to you.”
Dia happily took possession of the camera. “Thank you. This is fabulous. You think of everything, don’t you?”
Nico waved her off, and when she turned to say something else, he and Susan were in a clinch worthy of a romance book cover.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sunday morning Dia rolled over and opened the laptop to enjoy again the fun of Carlo’s conversation from last night. Several new emails from him had come in after she’d gone to sleep. She clicked through them. In the first one he politely asked where Susan was.
Dia clicked on the second one, and her heart raced. That next message sounded a bit more concerned. By the third one, he sounded angry. He said he hadn’t called her because he thought she’d be sleeping. But he’d tried Susan’s cell phone and gotten no answer. Could he be questioning her whereabouts? Didn’t he trust her?
She read each message again.
Apparently, Susan was supposed to talk with Angie. She hadn’t answered her phone, or her emails. The kid had sobbed herself to sleep in the middle of the day. A frisson of guilt ran through Dia. She should have reminded Susan. She shut the computer and went out to the kitchen to make coffee, banging things around on the counter to vent her frustration.
Hell, I’m not the woman’s keeper.
Anyway, why should Carlo yell at her? She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She stalked around the kitchen, running her hands through her hair. Yuck! It still had sand in it. She tried to calm herself and think of Carlo’s reaction. How could she explain anything to him, thousands of miles away, without adding fuel to the fire? But she supposed his upset was appropriate on one level, he’d been helping to care for his sister’s child.
She shrugged. Well, he was worried. She got that. But still.
A tiny bit of concern nudged at her. Had Susan and Nico gone back out last night? Were they in trouble? They’d shared a bottle of wine on the beach, but Nico had been in control of the boat and the drive back up to the villa. He hadn’t seemed intoxicated, but Susan had been giggly. Had they just come home and crashed?
Dia carried her coffee mug out onto the terrace. She heard voices, and soft laughter beyond the dividing wall. Thank goodness. They were okay.
“Susan. You up?”
“Barely. How are you doing?”
“I’m good, but…” Dia hated to yell, but she wasn’t sure she should go over there. Not after the make-out session she’d seen last night. They could be walking around half-dressed, or naked as they day they were born. “Ah, Carlo emailed. He’s worried. Couldn’t get you on the cell phone last night.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
The sound of a chair scraping echoed in the still morning. Then Nico’s concerned voice said something about the cell phone not having been charged. Dia heard the panic in Susan’s voice. There was a lot of excited, concerned conversation, and then the terrace door opened and closed. They’d forgotten she’d been the messen
ger.
Good.
Dia went inside and closed her door. There was time for another coffee and something to eat. She found a small loaf of bread leftover from yesterday’s picnic, broke off a piece, slathered it with butter and preserves, grabbed a napkin and the coffee mug and sat on the edge of the couch.
Her stomach acted like it held a mass of butterflies. This was Susan and her family’s business. Whatever issues Carlo had with his sister, Dia would remain out of the picture. Understanding that did make her a bit less tense. She wouldn’t email Carlo back until she’d checked in with Susan. She owed her friend that much. She tried to focus on what really bugged her: Carlo’s anger, his control issues, her own need to control, and her difficulty in trusting in the past.
The word love seemed to hover in the air. Was she envious of Susan and Nico? Nah! Still the word love kept rudely inserting itself into her thoughts. Was she willing to overlook some of the things in Carlo’s personality that she’d always told her mother so emphatically she could not abide? Did she love Carlo? Could she ever love? Had she ever loved anyone?
Dia took a few sips of coffee and brushed at the crumbs that clung to her pajamas. She hadn’t realized until meeting Carlo that she had stopped trusting, so why even shoot for anything as deep as love? That would be setting oneself up for heartache. With Jason she had been practical. He would have been a good provider. He was handsome, educated, and he came from a good family. She would have had material things…but no love. She hadn’t really wanted love. Not back then.
Wow! That thought had her sitting up straight and gripping the empty mug with a strength that threatened to break the handle. She put the mug on the coffee table. With Carlo, she’d obviously been risking her heart. She’d been willing to come all the way to Corsica just to ask a gate for directions.
Dazed, Dia got up and washed dishes. She stacked them in the drying rack. In a little while, she’d pack. Tonight, they’d have one last dinner party with Mama and the aunts. Tomorrow morning, they’d have to be up by seven, go to the gate, and then be at the dock to take the ferry across to Livorno.
She looked out through the terrace doors. It would be sad saying goodbye to Corsica. But she was ready. Ready to go back and face whatever her future held.
****
Monday morning, the sun was barely up as they made their way along the same drive they’d taken to the beach. So, she’d been right. The gate is up here. A tiny chill ran through Dia, and she pulled her jacket tighter across her chest.
“Is on the far end of the estate,” Nico said. “We had to come early. There is to be a short hike.”
Well, he hadn’t mentioned hiking before, or that it was on the estate
That was okay. She’d put on sneakers for the plane ride. She looked out at the road and saw the turn where they had dropped so suddenly down the cliff face. They proceeded another fifty or so feet along a narrow dirt road, climbing a little. She could smell the air, and knew they were close to the western side of Corsica. The foliage was dense and she saw nothing but green. No gate.
Nico parked. He pointed to a half-hidden pathway. “We go up.”
Luckily, whenever the rise needed it there were stone steps. They’d walk a few feet on hard-packed ground, climb a few slippery, moss-covered steps, and then repeat.
Nico walked between her and Susan. “I will hold you.” He grabbed at Susan’s jacket. “Go slow. Dia, you hold my jacket.”
Great. All they needed was a slip of the foot and someone, maybe all three of them, wouldn’t make it to the plane on time. The path wound upward until suddenly, blue sky hit them. Dia looked from the sky to the sea below. Blue everywhere. Once she’d gotten over the dizzying height, she saw the crumbled remains of an ancient stone church, blackened and ravaged by time. It looked like it would have held a maximum of thirty people in its heyday. Only a bell tower remained standing, but almost everything else had crumbled away. Beyond the tower was a small burial ground with rough, twisted, broken headstones.
Dia sucked in a quick breath. She loved old cemeteries; there was so much history. Maybe, if they had time she could at least take a few photos. She looked around for the gate.
“Wind. Salt. From the sea.” Nico waved his arms and pointed to the crumbled church. “It was destroyed over the years. We build another, safer, below, near the villa.”
“Where is the gate?” Dia’s words caught on a gust of wind and her hair blew wildly around her face. She zipped her jacket as high as it would go.
Nico beckoned them to follow behind the bell tower toward the cemetery. There, standing as if opening to the world, stood an old black iron gate, set firmly in a crumbling stone fence that overlooked the water below.
“Why here?” Susan asked.
“Below used to be the path up,” Nico said. “But the cliffs got eroded. We left the gate, and you know the rest. Come. Come.” He walked over and stood on the edge of the cliff, his hands resting lightly on the gate.
Susan’s audible gasp made Dia turn. Her face had turned ashen. “Don’t stand…so close,” Susan gripped her upper arms tightly. “It might…it might—”
“Collapse?” Nico laughed and his eyebrows shot up. “No, no. We reinforce. Is strong.”
Dia stayed back, next to Susan.
“Tradition,” Nico said. “You must rest at least one hand on the gate. Two is better. If you look below, you will see the waves. Watch them. When they roll in, you release old hurts, and the crashing waves destroy them. You say the wish as the water recedes, and it carries it away. Saying out loud makes it stronger. Capisce?”
Dia nodded and looked at Susan.
Susan pushed her forward. “You go first.”
“Chicken.” Dia laughed, but then she wondered who the biggest chicken really was. She’d avoided calling Carlo last night, mainly because Susan had resisted answering all questions.
She’d dashed off an email this morning saying they were on their way home but would not have good contact. She’d mentioned she’d try to call from the Rome airport before departing. She hadn’t wanted him asking questions. Or for his upset with Susan to color what she had to do today.
“Go on,” Susan said.
What the hell. She’d come this far, and waited this long.
At the gate, she reached out and touched the iron on top. The sun was stronger now, but so was the wind and the iron was cold. She looked down at the old treacherous path and remembered the morning trek up to the church. Waves crashed below, the noise filling her with energy, as they rushed in and out and hit at times on the rocks, spraying plumes of water.
“Be ah…how you say…specific?” Nico asked.
“Yes.” Dia was mesmerized.
“Say your words aloud, so they can be picked up and carried. Do not be afraid to ask for what you want.”
Dia felt silly, intimidated. Could she speak her wish out loud while Nico and Susan hovered?
“I will go,” Nico said.
Dia nodded but didn’t look at him.
“Place both hands on top of the gate and look down,” Nico called. “Today is good. Strong wind, big waves…much energy.”
She brushed back the hair that whipped around her face, and looked behind her. Nico and Susan sat on the rock steps that were once the back entrance to the church.
Dia placed both hands on top of the gate, gazed at the waves, and timed her wish accordingly. “I wish for a sign, on first being with Carlo again, that will tell me if our love will survive.” A powerful surge of energy and heat radiated from her chest outward. She hadn’t been certain how she would word her wish. It had just come to her.
As the waves crashed in on the shore, she’d thought of Jason and their failed relationship. A deep awareness had filled her, and she’d acknowledged her part in that. She surrendered the guilt and negative feelings she’d been carrying for months. If there really was magic at this gate, it was about the deep belief in the power of self. The soul knows a happiness that isn’t about whether t
he conditions of the world are good or bad, right or wrong, but there is a knowing that everything is as it should be.
She walked away in a daze wondering if her words had been specific enough. Had she squandered her one chance at wish-making? But it was what she wanted. A sign. She wanted to give herself completely to love and it was a huge, huge step, but she sensed it was one she really wanted to take, if she could just be brave enough. A sign would help her take that leap of faith.
She beckoned for Susan. “You’re up. I’ll go check out the church and leave you to it.”
“No problem, you can stay. I have no secrets.”
“No. You go on.”
Dia shook her head and walked off, humming a favorite old Rhianna song about finding love in a hopeless place. She understood the song. But even better, she now truly understood her own part in the failure of her prior relationship. Carlo was different. She smiled. She was in love with the man.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Nico asked Susan.
“Yes.”
Dia turned to look back. Susan seemed nervous, her steps small as she approached the gate. Dia sat and watched them. Nico was gentle, attentive. They were a cute couple. Susan placed her hands on the gate; Nico stood behind her.
His rich booming voice floated back toward Dia. “Think of me as your gate. Here to protect you. You can look through me to the world. You can see through, above, below. When you are tired you may rest your chin on my shoulder and daydream. Always place the hand on me. I will always be here for you.”
That was so sweet. There was no way she could stay and hear Susan’s wish. Dia blinked back the smart of tears. The old bell tower stood behind her, blackened and mildewed walls. Dia walked forward. She caressed the cold stone. Memories of church, and family, Mama, Marco, and especially her father, coursed through her. She realized her father’s sudden death had been the precise moment she’d stopped loving, stopped trusting, stopped believing in happiness.