Those Blue Tuscan Skies

by Marion Ueckermann

  “Buonanotte, sorella. Dormi bene.” Alessa blew a kiss from the doorway.

  “Buonanotte, little sis.”

  Sleep didn’t come easily to Alessa, her sister’s question burning. Is Michael the kind of guy for you?

  Was he?

  She rolled over and turned on her light. Leaning over the side of the bed, she allowed her fingers to feel for the paper she’d slid under there last night. She inched it forward and stared at the three faces smiling back at her. Okay, maybe she wasn’t smiling as much as Sienna and Michael, but thankfully she didn’t look sour either.

  She closed her right eye and held her right hand out to block out half of Michael’s face, as he’d instructed. The masked man stared back and she found herself wishing there were color to the charcoal sketch—a beautiful blue peeking out from behind the mask would do very nicely, thank you. She swapped hands and closed her other eye this time to gaze at Michael Young, remembering the tingles she’d felt as he’d lifted her hand. She had to face facts, it didn’t matter whether he hid behind a mask, or not—the man was attractive. And that attraction had certainly rubbed off on her.

  Hands behind his head, Michael stared up into the darkness of his room, praying for slumber. He needed to sleep; he needed to bring his A-game tomorrow—who knew when he’d get to spend time with Alessa again. Sienna was leaving on Monday, and if it weren’t for her sister, Alessa probably wouldn’t want to be around him. How was he ever going to change her mind in a single morning’s service?—one where he’d be preaching in the first place and wouldn’t be anywhere near her for the majority of the service.

  He exhaled, the breath heavy. Lord, what am I to do to make this woman interested in me?

  No answer came from the heavens.

  One thing he wouldn’t do is preach on the wonders and joy of marriage tomorrow. Song of Solomon sprang to mind, and he quickly shoved the thought aside. His sermon was already done and dusted. Thankfully.

  Not quite.

  What? Where had that thought come from? Of course his sermon was prepared—he was picking up from where he’d left off when he’d preached three weeks ago and would be speaking about the fourth fruit of the Spirit: Forbearance. Might be good for Alessa to hear about the three “P’s” in his sermon: patience, perseverance, persistence. Maybe then she’d understand when she saw his determination to win her heart.

  Yet, with the perfect sermon planned, why couldn’t he shake the feeling that this wasn’t what God wanted him to preach? Not this Sunday, anyway.

  Michael turned his head on the pillow to glance at the clock on the bedside table. Eleven p.m. He threw back the covers and slid from his bed. He padded over to his desk, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet. His fingers fumbled in the dark until they finally found the switch for the light perched on the corner of his desk. A soft glow filled the dark room, and Michael eased into his chair, his hand already opening his Bible.

  He stared at the page, the words beckoning.

  Lord? You can’t be serious? You want me to speak about a promiscuous woman and the man who was told by God to choose her as his wife? A little too close to home, don’t you think? Well, the random proposal part. The promiscuous woman? Who knew what kind of a person Alessa Rossi was? He certainly didn’t. And if it turned out she wasn’t as pure as he hoped, would he still want to marry her?

  Michael leaned over his Bible and read through the book of Hosea—fourteen chapters wasn’t that much when you were a fast reader. When he got to the end, he shifted his Bible to the side and pulled his laptop forward. He turned it on, ready to redo his sermon notes, filled with the conviction that this sermon had nothing to do with Alessa and him. Rather, it was all about the love the Father had for his red-haired, Italian daughter.

  “I think I could love her like that too, Lord,” he whispered into the low-lit room. “No matter what.”

  Chapter Five

  IN THE BACK OF THE small church hall, Michael made three cups of coffee. He handed one to Alessa and tried to make eye contact.

  “Grazie,” she whispered, quickly looking away.

  He gave the second one to her sister. Sienna took the cup from him. “Thank you, Michael. And thank you so much for inviting us here—that was an amazing service. Even though the congregation wasn’t large, the worship was awesome. And that sermon—I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone preach about Hosea and Gomer with such passion.”

  “Well, God’s love for his people, especially the wayward ones, is a passionate subject.” Michael forced himself to keep his gaze on Sienna and not glance toward Alessa lest she think he was singling her out.

  “But, I thought you were working your way through the fruits of the Spirit,” Sienna inquired. “You said so on Friday night.”

  Michael rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, sneaking a look at Alessa.

  She diverted her gaze the moment their eyes met.

  So, she’d been watching him.

  He breathed in deep. “God told me to change what I was preaching about. He does that sometimes…tells me to do things that don’t seem logical or sane at the time.”

  Sienna laughed. “When did He inform you there was a change of sermon?”

  “Late last night.”

  “Last night?” Alessa’s brows rose. “You mean you pulled that talk out of the hat literally just before midnight?”

  Michael wrinkled his nose. “That bad?”

  Sienna touched his arm and smiled. “No, that good! You’re a gifted man, Michael Young. And one of many, many talents. Will you never cease to keep surprising my sister and me?”

  Michael offered Sienna a smile in return, and then shifted his attention to Alessa. “And you? What did you think of my preaching?”

  “It was…” Alessa gazed at the roof, her mouth skewing as she feigned thought. “Interesting. I–I liked it.”

  She liked it? Michael couldn’t believe those three little words, even though they seemed hard for her to say. Maybe he was making some progress with her.

  “So…” He dragged out the word. “Would you ladies like to hang out together today?” His gaze oscillated for a brief moment between the two sisters, before he continued his pitch. “The weather is great—the perfect day to laze on the beach. We could catch a train south to Anzio. Turquoise water, golden sand…doesn’t that sound enticing? And, there are some great seafood restaurants we could go to for lunch.”

  “Although I do love Anzio, Sienna and I already have plans.” Alessa emptied her coffee cup then set it down on the table. She glanced up at Michael. “Thank you for inviting us to your church, but we do need to get going to the next thing on my sister’s bucket list…skulls.”

  Sienna grasped Alessa’s arm as she swung around to leave. “Whoa, wait a minute, sorellina.” Sienna turned to Michael. “How would you like to join me and Alessa?”

  “To look at skulls?” He held out his palms, lifting one hand a little higher than the other. He alternated heights as he weighed up his options for the day. “Hmm, skulls… Beach… Skulls… Sure, why not? I’d love to tag along to gawk at dead people’s remains.” His gaze shot to Alessa. “That is if you don’t mind.”

  She smiled, a plastic one Michael was certain. “I hope you like dead things.”

  “Oh, Alessa, always so dramatic. Don’t worry, Michael, we’re not going to see dead things. Alessa is taking me to the catacombs, that’s all.”

  “And there are skulls there?” Michael feigned worry.

  Alessa patted him on the back, a smirk on her face. “You have no idea.”

  They strolled outside to where Alessa’s Vespa was parked. This was awkward—wasn’t like they were in Asia or India where they could easily pile three, or more, people onto a scooter.

  “Um, I could borrow a bicycle from a friend, try and keep up with you, Alessa. Or you could store your helmets and backpacks here and we could take a bus. Or a taxi.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Sienna’s face beamed at the notion. �
��It certainly would be a lot easier for us not to have to cart our helmet-filled backpacks around in those confined spaces.”

  Skulls. Confined spaces. Death.

  Maybe he should be a little concerned.

  Alessa eyed her sister. Who exactly was driving them around, again? Her, or Sienna? She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. She drew in a deep breath before plunging into her argument. “Actually, sorella, I’d planned for us to leave the scooter at my apartment. It’s not that far to the bone chapel from there by bus.”

  “Don’t be silly, Alessa. What difference does it make if we leave the scooter and helmets there or here? Let’s just go together with Michael now—we’ve no need to change, so really there’s no need for us to return home. We’re both wearing comfortable walking shoes and we both have cool, comfy pants and blouses on. We could even have an early lunch, before going crypt-crawling.”

  Now Sienna was just playing dirty, pulling out the early lunch card. Her sister knew the way to changing her mind was through her stomach.

  “Crypt-crawling?” Michael guffawed. “Well put, Sienna.” He held up his hand, and she slapped her palm against his.

  Alessa sighed. “All right.” No way she was going to win this one. Did she even want to?

  She handed over her bulging backpack.

  Michael took it from her before hefting Sienna’s as well. “I won’t be long. Don’t disappear on me now.” He pivoted and hurried toward the church hall before veering to the right.

  “Where’s he off to now?” Alessa watched as he disappeared around the corner of the building. “I thought he was going to store those inside the church?”

  Sienna shrugged. “He probably doesn’t want to do that as there are still a number of people hanging around. Maybe he’s putting the backpacks into his room for safekeeping. I recall him saying something on Friday night about staying on the church premises.” She wrapped an arm around Alessa’s shoulder and gave her a side hug. “Thank you for coming with me to church today. Meant the world to me.”

  “It’s okay. I just want you to have the best time possible while you’re in Roma, even if that means tagging along to church with you because it’s what you want to do.”

  Sienna surveyed Alessa.

  Alessa began to giggle. “What? Do I still have pastry crumbs at the side of my mouth from breakfast?” She swiped her lips.

  “No.” Sienna reached out and tucked Alessa’s hair behind her ear. “You’re such a beautiful soul, sorellina. Please, give Michael a chance when I’m gone. I have a good feeling about him. And it’s not difficult to see he really cares for you.”

  “How can you tell that? He barely knows me.”

  “Which is exactly why you need to give him a chance to get to know you. Likewise, give yourself time to get to know him. This could be your one big, lucky break at love, and if he’s your soul mate, you don’t want to miss that opportunity.”

  What if he was? Did she care? She’d always proclaimed she’d never marry—was that because she’d never found someone like Michael Young who caused such chaos inside of her?

  She smacked Sienna’s upper arm with the back of her hand. “What’s with this sudden appetite of yours? Wanting to go for an early lunch when you’ve barely digested your breakfast?”

  “Uh, you know...”

  Shoving her hands to her hips, Alessa stared her sister down. “No, I don’t know. Care to enlighten me?”

  “Probably the fresh air, the scent of the tiglios, the throng and bustle of the city, or just your eating habits rubbing off on me already. Could be any number of factors.” Sienna removed her sunglasses from the messenger bag at her waist and put them on. “There, that’s better. Now I don’t have to keep squinting at everyone.”

  “Don’t change the subject, Sienna.” Alessa poked her sister lightly on the chest. “And it could also just be you trying to play matchmaker. Again.”

  Ignoring her, Sienna raised up on her toes and waved.

  Alessa turned to see Michael headed back their way, dressed in a pair of cornflower blue cargo shorts, a gray sleeveless T-shirt, and matching casual loafers—the outfit shamelessly displaying toned muscles. Her jaw dropped as her heart did a freefall into the pit of her stomach. Mercy.

  Michael smiled and jogged the rest of the distance. “Sorry it took me a little longer. Thought I’d quickly change into something more suitable for crypt-crawling while I was in my room. Didn’t think the preacher’s outfit was quite fitting.”

  “At least you weren’t wearing one of those penguin collars.” Alessa clamped the side of her mouth between her teeth before releasing her hold and permitting her giggle to run free and wild. Finally, with great effort, she contained her chuckles. “I do believe, however, that you are going to need to change again.” Unfortunately. “The museum and crypt are located within a church. As such, you won’t be allowed inside wearing shorts or with uncovered shoulders.” Besides, a look like Michael’s should be outlawed. It didn’t help her fight the growing attraction she was trying valiantly to avoid. Not. One. Bit.

  Michael glanced down at what he was wearing then snapped his fingers. “Of course. I’m sorry. Guess I haven’t visited enough churches in Rome yet to remember the dress code. I’ll be back before you know it.” He spun around and sprinted back the way he’d come.

  “Don’t tell me he’s good at sports too. Just look at him run,” Sienna said.

  Alessa shot her sister a glance. Arms folded, Sienna tapped a finger over her lips as she watched Michael’s hasty retreat.

  Yes, just look at him…

  “I guess that’s what one would call an all-American boy,” Sienna continued.

  “I guess…” Sigh. “Wait, no! I–I mean, isn’t the iconic all-American boy supposed to marry his high-school sweetheart? This one seems intent on not following true to form.”

  Sienna’s lips parted with a smile. “Ah, does that mean you’ve given his proposal some thought?”

  Alessa lasered her sister with an astonished look. “What? No! Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous! What on earth would give you such a crazy idea. Pfft.” Unthinkable.

  She steered her gaze away from Sienna.

  “Uh-hum,” was all she got in response. She hadn’t convinced Sienna in the slightest that she hadn’t reflected on Michael’s first words to her at least once since he’d spoken them.

  When Michael returned mere minutes later, all he’d done was swap his shorts for dark blue, skinny jeans, faded on the thighs they hugged, and pulled a white, short-sleeved, cotton shirt over the gray tee. Yet another off-limits ensemble, and she had a mind to send him back to change a third time. She didn’t. She’d be a big girl and grin and bear it.

  Alessa led the way to the nearest bus stop. A bus pulled in just as they got there, and they hopped on.

  They hadn’t ridden for long before they climbed off again—as did half the other passengers, at least a quarter of them heading up the staircase of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini—or if she were offering an English tour, Our Lady of the Conception of the Capuchins.

  Standing near the bottom of the staircase, with at least twenty people, or more, ahead of them, Alessa chided herself that they hadn’t pre-booked. If they had, they wouldn’t be waiting in a queue. Neither would Michael have been able to tag along, and subsequently, she wouldn’t have had to put up with the distraction. Nothing they could do now but stand in the line and hope they didn’t have a long wait. Especially as Michael had somehow landed on the step right above her. And whether he looked ahead, or turned to talk to her, he was now very hard to ignore.

  Because the eleven a.m. mass was already in progress, Alessa, Sienna, and Michael spent their time inside the church, quietly strolling around the back portion. Alessa loved the architecture to be found in the churches of the Capuchins—the single nave with the marble, central altar and raised side chapels closed by wooden gates. When mass ended, they were able to roam around more freely, and they made
their way to the front of the church, each finding something different to scrutinize.

  Michael whispering her name, drew Alessa’s attention. She snapped her head his way, as did Sienna. He beckoned them closer, near the steps of the main altar.

  “Look at this tombstone—”

  “Not another one,” Alessa muttered beneath her breath. Their progression together up the aisle had been painstakingly slow, with Michael stopping to examine the tombstones embedded in the floor. Alessa had soon veered off to the side and taken a path between two pews. Sienna had been more patient with Michael, indulging him. Finally, she’d joined Alessa to ponder the huge painting of Jesus above the altar.

  She jabbed Alessa in the ribs. “Be nice. He’s probably just missing you. Wants to be closer to you.” She giggled, and Alessa narrowed her eyes.

  Alessa offered Michael a smile as she completed her turn. She took the four stairs down to where Michael stood, Sienna still close by her side.

  “There’s more Latin here. Could you please read and translate this for me?”

  “Sure…” Alessa’s tone dripped so much sweetness, she wondered if she shouldn’t have added a “honey” at the end of that sentence.”

  Standing beside Michael, she gazed at the floor and read the inscription on the tombstone: “Hic iacet pulvis cinis et nihil. Here lies dust, ashes, and nothing.” She lifted her shoulders. “Hm, he has a point.”

  Michael still stared at the stone as if contemplating the writer’s words. “That he does. It’s only one’s soul that lives on forever. Everything else perishes, reduces—as it states—to dust and ashes.” He tore his gaze from the floor to look at her. “Thank you, Alessa. I appreciate you taking the time to help me understand.”

  Alessa nodded. Did he always have to be so charming? She cleared her throat. “We should probably move along; they close the church at midday, which is probably any minute now.”