Love Far Away: 2

by Cooper, Leslie

  “I’m sorry,” I found myself apologizing for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I was just, well, I thought I should come and find you and say thank you for getting my friends and I on this boat.”

  Inside, it was dark aside from the lights from the computer screens. Sébastien smiled at me from the cushy black chair he sat in. “I am glad to see you,” he said. “I am working until late tonight, but I had hoped to see you at some point. I was hoping you would still be up enjoying the party when I finished my shift, but this is much more pleasant. I have sent Étienne on his break early. So. Would you like to be my co-captain?” He gestured to the chair next to him.

  I wasn’t sure exactly what I had expected the bridge to look like inside, but the yacht’s command center wasn’t it. I down sat in a cushy leather swivel chair with a huge assortment of computer screens in front of me, blinking in the dark. “Wow,” I said. “What are all of these screens for?”

  “Oh, sonar, and radar, and that one is GPS- see? This is where we are.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “That is Corsica.” He pointed out the window to my right. “And over there- those lights- that is also the island of Corsica. Right behind there- you cannot see much of it; we will have a better view in a little while- that is Sardinia. On our other side-“he pointed to the left- “that is the coast of Italy.”

  “This is amazing,” I said. “No big ship’s wheel anymore, huh?”

  Sébastien laughed. “It has been a long time since a ship was steered like that! No, these days it is all computers. Everything is computers! I am lucky that I am quite good with technology- at least I was- even I find it hard sometimes to keep up.”

  “You have the most beautiful view from up here,” I said. “I can only imagine what it’s like in the daytime.”

  “I certainly do,” he agreed. “I must admit it is quite nice being up here, just watching the world go by. We travel very slowly, typically- Gianluca does not want his guests to fall, especially once they start drinking, ha ha- so we are taking our time reaching Rome. If you wanted to, you could make it there much more quickly, but Gianluca prefers to slow down and enjoy his trip. That is why this boat got her name.” He patted the boat’s controls affectionately.

  “Dolce Far Niente,” I recalled. “That’s the boat’s name. What does it mean?”

  “It is an expression, in Italian,” he said. “It translates- roughly of course- to ‘sweet idleness’. The joy of doing nothing; like, sitting on a boat enjoying drink. Taking the time to slow down and look at the flowers, I think is what you say in English?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “In English, we say you would take time to stop and smell the roses.”

  He laughed. “Well, I am close! I think there is much value in doing that. So many people these days just want to go, go, go, and they forget the sweet things in life are so often the very simple ones.”

  “That’s true,” I said. I thought about my life back home. So often I would wake up and spend my day rushing around from one task to another- groceries, dry cleaning, bank, preschool, swimming lessons- without stopping to take a break and just enjoy my life. If I did stop to take a break, maybe spending the afternoon on the couch with a book or dropping in to my favorite coffee shop or just spending an hour idly window shopping downtown, I was immediately racked with guilt over the thought of wasting time just doing nothing. Even my children were not immune, I realized. They were on summer vacation now, and before I had left on my trip I’d made sure that they would have full schedules with my parents. Day camps and swimming lessons and trips to amusement parks in my determination to make sure they got as much out of their summer as they could. Spending an afternoon lying in the grass watching an ant? Playing in the sandbox all morning? A waste of time! I could almost see myself admonishing seven-year-old Henry and four-year-old Olivia for dragging their feet out in the backyard when we needed to leave now to make it to soccer on time. I cringed at the thought.

  Sébastien noticed that I looked uncomfortable. “What is the matter?” he asked. “I hope I have not said anything that upsets you, Julia.”

  “Oh, no,” I reassured him. “It’s nothing. Well, it’s not anything you said, it’s just me. You just really made me think and reflect on who I am, and on who I want to be. You see, I used to be like that. One of those people who just rush-rush-rushes everywhere. It wasn’t until I came on this trip and got in to a more relaxed frame of mind that I usually am back home. It’s something that I’m going to have to work to change. I feel so guilty when I take the time to just sit and enjoy myself when I know there is so much that needs to be done.”

  “Oh?” asked Sébastien. “What sort of things do you need to get done? Deadlines for photography? I understand,” he added. “I know not everybody is able to live a relaxed life. Even I have deadlines I must meet, ports that I must arrive in by a certain time.”

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” I said. “Well, sometimes, I suppose, but more often I’m talking about things like...I must get to the bank before it closes to make a deposit. I need to get groceries. I need to-“ I stopped just short of mentioning my children.

  I hadn’t told Sébastien about the children.

  Guilt, the most familiar of all emotions a mother can feel, wrapped a cold hand around my heart. Back home, my life revolved around the children. What they wore, what they ate, where they went to school, which activities they participated in, who their friends were. I would sometimes lie awake in bed at night planning out Olivia’s outfit for tomorrow or wake up early to make Henry’s lunch for school. There wasn’t a minute of my day that wasn’t somehow dedicated to them.

  And yet...since I’d been away, save the first few hours of the trip I’d barely thought about them. I had been too busy living in the here and now, enjoying myself. Indulging in rich foods and more wine and coffee than I had ever drank at home (and at home I drank plenty of both). I’d bought myself an expensive Louis Vuitton handbag in Paris. I’d gone to the spa. I’d travelled on a scooter along the coast just to get a great view. Nothing that I ever would have done in my normal everyday life back home in Ohio.

  “Julia?” Sébastien’s hand was gentle on mine. “What is it? You look troubled.”

  I took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you,” I said. “I’m not sure why I didn’t before, at dinner...it just didn’t come up. I’m a little ashamed of that because truly, they are my world. But over here, with you, they just- they weren’t on my mind, and I feel horrible and guilty because of that. But. Sébastien, I have children. Two of them. A boy and a girl. Henry is seven and Olivia just turned four. I didn’t mean to hide that from you. I love them very much. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to mention it to you when we had dinner last night. I’m… so sorry.”

  I held my breath, sure that he would be upset. After all, I was a single mother now that my marriage was over, and I knew that nobody wanted a single mother and all the trouble and baggage that came with it.

  But he surprised me and smiled. “Is that all? Do not worry! You look so upset, and there is no need. I understand. You were married and thought that you would be with your ex-husband forever and started a family with him. That is a beautiful thing. I understand that life does not always work out the way we might have plans for it.”

  I looked at him hopefully. “So you don’t mind that I have children?”

  Sébastien laughed. “Of course not! We have only met for dinner the one time. There are things about my life I have not told you either. Did you know I was a champion swimmer in my youth?” His eyes twinkled.

  I laughed too. “Your old swimming trophies aren’t a huge part of your day to day life, though!”

  “Ah, you have got me there.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Tell me about your children, then.”

  “Oh, they’re wonderful. I could go on about them all day. Olivia is just beautiful- she loves princesses and fairy tales and dance class and she loves art. Henry likes soccer and kar
ate and that boy can somehow manage to get covered in dirt no matter where he goes.” I sighed, picturing their little faces and really missing them for the first time since I’d been gone. “I’ve got their pictures on my- oh, that’s right, I left my phone in the cabin. My friends made me turn it off when we first left on our trip because I was constantly checking in on my kids, or waiting for a message about them. I check it once in the morning now and that’s it. I could show you another time, maybe.”

  “I would like that,” he smiled. “I’m sure your daughter is beautiful, just like her mother.”

  I blushed. “Well. I don’t know about that.”

  “Oh, I am sure she is! And I’m sure your son has your wonderful spirit. Your love of life, so it be.”

  “I’m just rediscovering my love of life,” I told him. “I didn’t realize how much my life was just a series of routines that I went through the motions of every day...I didn’t realize it until I broke the cycle and came here. I know you say Monaco is only for the very rich, but this area...by the sea...it’s just nothing like what I’m used to at home and it’s all so wonderful.”

  “Ah,” said Sébastien, “but where would the children go to school?”

  I sighed. “That’s why it’s all a dream right now.” He nodded sympathetically. “Maybe one day, when I retire. Or when they’re all grown up. But for now, I’m just going to try and enjoy visiting Italy and this beautiful boat.”

  “That reminds me,” said Sébastien. “How do you find your cabin? Is there enough room for you all? I know I said it was not luxurious, but it is really quite small. It is in fact one of the old crew cabins, but we have fewer crew members for these short trips around the Mediterranean. For a trip to Barbados or the Canary Islands there would be crew members in there.”

  “Oh, it’s fine. The girls don’t mind being cramped at all, they’re just so excited to have the chance to visit Italy,” I lied. “There’s plenty of room for us all!”

  Sébastien looked at me. “Are you sure? It isn’t very crowded in there?”

  “Well, it might be a little tight, but it’s no big deal,” I insisted. “We’ll just be sleeping in there.”

  He looked at his watch. “My shift is over in thirty minutes,” he said. “Perhaps...if you find it crowded in your cabin...you might like to come to mine.”

  Chapter Eight

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of water running. I sat up in a panic, half forgetting where I was, before I remembered- I was in Sébastien’s cabin. Last night had really happened. I fumbled around on the floor for my clothes, wanting to get dressed and sneak back to my own cabin as quickly as possible.

  Sébastien stepped out of the bathroom, shaving cream on his face and a razor in his hand. The sight was so familiar and domestic that it caught me off guard. “Julia, do not feel you must hurry out,” he said to me. “I need to be on duty at eight o’clock sharp, but of course you may stay in here and rest as long as you would like to.”

  “Oh, I wake up early anyway,” I said, which was true of my life back home. “I need to go back to my cabin and pack.”

  He nodded, and I thought I could almost see some dejection in his expression. “Oh, of course.”

  I watched him walk back in to the bathroom and it hit me suddenly- did he feel like I was turning him down? Men had feelings too, I reminded myself. “I enjoyed last night,” I blurted out, then mentally kicked myself. I could have phrased it so much better. “I mean, I like spending time with you. I’m not sure how long we’ll be in Rome, and I don’t know how busy you are or anything like that, but if you’re free while I’m in Rome it would be nice to spend an afternoon together. I’ve never been here, and I’m sure you know the city fairly well, so maybe you could show me some of the hidden gems the tourists all miss...”

  I trailed off. I was babbling again. But Sébastien had stuck his head back out of the bathroom and was grinning widely. “I would like that very much,” he said. “I am sure there are others who know Rome better than I, but I have a few ideas of places to visit.”

  I was certain that I was grinning like an idiot by now too, like a silly teenager who had just found out the boy she had a crush on liked her back. “That sounds great,” I said. “I’m not sure which hotel we’ll be staying at in the city, but I’ll let you know- I can turn my phone back on and send you an email over the wifi.”

  Once I’d written my email address down on a slip of paper and left it on his desk, I slipped out of the cabin and tried to orient myself. Fortunately for us, none of the other guests had gone to bed as early as we had and so nobody else was up at this time of day. I crept down the hall, turned a corner, and was pleased to find myself in front of my own cabin door. As quietly as I could, I opened the door with my key card.

  It was dark inside, and I stubbed my toe on someone’s suitcase in the middle of the floor. I pressed my lips together tightly to keep myself from shrieking out loud. I shut the door and fumbled my way over to the beds. Both bottom bunks seemed to be taken- I thought I could make out dark hair on both pillows, which meant Megan and Becca. Both top bunks were empty. Ashley had spent the night somewhere else, too. I climbed up to one of the top bunks. I slid under the covers and tried to fall asleep, but I was too wired. My heart was pounding and I kept reliving moments from last night.

  The kisses we’d shared on the bridge before I’d followed him, discreetly of course, down the stairs to the captain’s quarters when another officer had come to relieve him for the overnight shift. Oh, it had been wonderful. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so admired and appreciated and just plain wanted. There was none of the guilt and shame I had felt after I had ended up drunkenly hooking up with Matthew back in Paris. Just the opposite, in fact- I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hold his hand and stroll down a sundrenched alley in Rome to a little hole in the wall restaurant that served the best pasta in the world and enjoy a meal with a rich glass of red wine. I wanted to dance with him in a town square while a street performer played a tune on the violin. I wanted to eat gelato and throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain. I wanted to walk up the Spanish Steps with him and kiss on the bank of the Tiber River and everything else I had ever dreamed of doing in Rome.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t stand lying there in the dark pretending to sleep anymore, and I got back out of bed and tiptoed to the shower. When I got out, the lights were on and Becca and Megan were lounging around, digging through suitcases for clothes and makeup.

  “What happened to you last night?” asked Megan. “I thought we were all going to hang out together and dance.”

  “I went to bed early,” I said. Not a lie. “I was kind of tired.”

  “You weren’t here when we came in,” Becca observed. “We weren’t up all that late either. I think we came to bed around two. Where’d you go?”

  I had a lie on the tip of my tongue- maybe that had been when I hadn’t been feeling well and had gone to the kitchen to see if I could get a cup of tea?. For another split second I considered telling them the truth. But I didn’t want squeals of delight and high fives and cheers of ‘get it, girl!’, or have them requesting details. It felt a bit silly to think it already, but I had a feeling in my heart that Sébastien was special. I wasn’t really ready to share him with my friends.

  “It must’ve just been dark in here when you came in,” I said, choosing my words carefully so I was technically not lying to them.

  Megan gave me a funny look. “Oh. Maybe.”

  “Anyway,” I changed the subject, “breakfast soon? There’s going to be a buffet up where the midnight buffet was last night. Or so I heard, at least. Hey, where’s Ashley?”

  Becca shrugged. “Who knows? She met some rich old guy. Joked that she was going to give him a heart attack.”

  “Gianluca?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy who owns this yacht! He’s a rich old Italian guy. Is that who she was with?”

  Megan started laughing. “That sounds exactly he
r style,” she said.

  We had a very nice breakfast out on the deck, enjoying the view and the fact that it was early enough that not many other people were up yet, before going back to our cabin to change in to bathing suits. We spent the morning hanging around the pool until Ashley finally joined us. By that time there were enough people around that even she had the sense to not talk about her exploits at a loud volume, so we just floated around drinking mai tais until a sailor came on deck and announced that we would be docking at Civitavecchia, the port closest to Rome, in just under an hour and our bags must be packed by that time. We headed back to our cabin to pack while Ashley regaled us of her story of doing cocaine in the yacht’s master suite with half a dozen models a Belgian tennis star. By the time we were done, the yacht had docked and it was time to disembark.

  Now that we were arriving in our third city, we had the arrival routine down. We found an information booth in the Civitavecchia port, and they booked us a hotel with Bradley’s credit card. I held my breath as it was handed over- sure that this would be the time that it was finally rejected- but the transaction went through. I breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew that we were likely on borrowed time. The card’s limit was fifty thousand, I was almost sure, and we had to be getting close to that amount. I wasn’t looking forward to the humiliation when the card was finally declined.

  We rode a train from Civitavecchia to Roma Termini, Rome’s central train station, and from there took a taxi to our hotel. We took turns showering and changing, and then went for a walk around our hotel to find a good restaurant for dinner. Ashley claimed that she could go out all night again, but the rest of us agreed that we were starting to feel a bit worn out from all the late nights, so we agreed that we’d go for a bit of a walk before grabbing a (singular) drink before going back to the hotel. Becca pulled out her map and claimed that the Spanish Steps wasn’t too far away, so we paid our bill and followed her through a series of small, twisting streets.