Lost in Carmel

by Terri Lee

  “I think this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life,” Natalie gushed.

  “According to legend, Positano was founded by the god Neptune when he fell in love with the nymph Pasitea.”

  “That's one heck of a gift. Beats showing up at the door with flowers.” Natalie closed the car door as Nico came around to take her hand.

  “There are a lot of tourists here in Positano, so keep your sunglasses on,” he cautioned.

  For a moment she'd almost forgotten her circumstances. Forgot that she had to watch over her shoulder for cameras and nosy vacationers. With Nico she had a tendency to forget it all and believe that she was simply—Natalie. Even so, the two of them made a habit of avoiding the tourist traps of Rome or the trendy high-end restaurants catering to westerners. She preferred the side streets anyway.

  Hand in hand they wound their way through the narrow cobblestone pathways lined with olive trees. Past tourists fingering gauzy dresses and jewelry from street vendors. Past shops filled with painted ceramics. Plates were lined up in the window displaying seahorses, dolphins, birds and other animals in a happy mix of patterns, as if they used the whole box of crayons.

  They wandered down to the main beach, Spiaggia Grande, still full of tourists catching the last of the sun before Autumn decided to get serious. Parents reclined in bright orange loungers and watched little ones running to the edge of the water and then back again as the waves joined in the game and chased the kids up the beach.

  Artists dotted the landscape, easels stuck in the sand like a flag being planted. Claiming that bit of beach as their own silent retreat, even as children ran past, ignorant of the declaration. She imagined this scene hadn't changed much over the years, artists throughout time had probably set up shop on this shore, desperate to capture the magic with a bit of paint splashed on a canvas.

  Nico turned right and led them to another cove which cupped the smaller, more intimate beach, Fornillo. Here the water was navy blue, then turquoise and crystal clear. Everywhere she turned, land, sea, or sky, the view was picture perfect and there was nothing left to do but sigh.

  “Are you hungry?” Nico asked.

  “Starving.”

  They entered a cozy beach side bar, but even in the darkened interior Natalie left her sunglasses on.

  “Nico?” the waiter who came to their table seemed happy to see an old friend.

  Nico stood to accept the hug and the warm greeting. “Angelo, è passato tanto tempo.”

  Angelo stood, hand on Nico's shoulder looking like he'd seen the risen Lazurus.

  “Troppo lungo, mi amico.”

  “Yes, too long.” Nico looked over at Natalie bringing her into the conversation with his English. “Angelo, this is Natalie.”

  Angelo turned his attention to Natalie, eyes sweeping over her in quick appreciation before extending a hearty handshake. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you,” Natalie smiled. Everywhere they went, people seemed to love Nico. Gravitated to him, smiled in is presence. Nico was wrong when he said he didn't have Saldo's personality. Perhaps his father was more ebuilliant but Nico had that undefined something that drew people near. That made them want to listen to him or have his smile land on them. She understood. She was a moth circling his flame.

  Pizza Napoletana was unceremoniously served up on paper plates with a bottle of ice cold Coke on the side. No fancy table decorations were needed, because it was all about the food. Natalie was amazed that the few simple ingredients of tomatoes, mozzerella, basil and olive oil could be tossed into a wood-fired hearth-oven for ninety seconds and produce the perfect pizza.

  One bite of the distinct blistered crust and Natalie rolled her eyes. The flavors played on her tongue and she grinned with satisfaction at Nico who was busy devouring his own slice of heaven.

  “How long has it been since you've been back to Positano?” Natalie wiped a bit of sauce on her paper napkin.

  “Since the accident. The second one.”

  She understood the need to turn away from the scene. Too many memories lurking around a bend in the road. But he was here now. Ready to step out of the past and reclaim his happiness. And he'd brought her with him.

  She reached for his hand, “Thank you for bringing me here.” She loved Positano, but she loved it more because it was his.

  “Thanks for letting me share it with you.”

  They sat in the little restaurant by the sea like happy-go-lucky vacationers. Talking, laughing, and listening to boats slapping the sea. As the conversation consumed them she could feel Nico easing into that comfortable spot he'd occupied before. Leaving the heaviness of the morning's conversation behind.

  She was glad he trusted her with the whole story. Over the last few weeks she'd let him in completely. No closed doors or roped off areas. It was a new way of being for her. She sat with him, devoid of veneer and he'd guarded her truth like a centurion. Now she would do the same for him. Wrapping his arms around her, he was drawing her into his world. Letting her peek in all the corners.

  This morning he added another layer of trust to the foundation they'd been building. Stone by stone. When the helplessness he'd felt over Claudia was offered up on open palms for Natalie to see, the instinct to protect him rose up on hind legs and she was fierce.When he spoke of the swirling pools of dark thoughts that would come to steal his sleep in the middle of the night, she imagined herself standing guard over his dreams, vanquishing the demons and the guilt.

  It was complicated for Nico. He’d never fallen out of love with his wife, the mother of his children. Claudia had just slipped away, silently, without a good-bye. He’d been left behind to pick up the pieces and forge a new life.

  Dreams had been stolen from both of them. Driven off a cliff. Now they were both determined to find their way back. Perhaps they were meant to find it together.

  30 Sunday

  It was Sunday morning. They would leave this afternoon, but the magic they'd found here would travel home with them, pressed snugly in their overnight bags to be unpacked slowly in the weeks ahead. Natalie wished she could stay right here, wrapped up in smooth white sheets with Nico breathing softly in her ear.

  She arched her back in a long stretch, still feeling sexy and beautiful from the night before, remembering how she came alive in Nico's eyes. His hands and lips had explored every inch of her body and she'd laid there serene in her nakedness, surrendering to his sure hand. They made love until their bodies gave out, then fell asleep, only to wake up and make love again.

  He'd rolled her over until she sat on top of him with smug satisfaction, knees planted on either side of him. Majestic in her power. Benevolent in her yearning to give him everything he desired. His hands cupping her breasts, hazel eyes drank her in like the wine on the bedside table. They were drunk on one another and she made a firm commitment to never be sober again. Leaning down she kissed him hard enough to take his breath away before he scooped her underneath him again in one smooth move.

  She couldn't remember ever having sex like this before. The give and take so effortless and genuine. Sex with Stan had become perfunctory. It was just sex. Nothing resembling what she and Nico had created in this bed. This was what making love looked like and there would be no going back.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” Nico said, his voice not quite awake.

  “Good morning,” she answered. Her fingers traced the perfect Roman profile of his jaw then twined in his hair, running through the thick dark layers, pulling his head toward her.

  His kiss drew their bodies close, thighs pressed together, his passion hot on her belly. Raising up on one elbow, cradling his head, he looked down at Natalie. Nico was all warmth as he leaned over her. Dark lashes over sleepy eyes was a seduction she didn't have the strength to resist.

  “Before we do one more thing, there's something I have to tell you.”

  Natalie felt her heart rise in her throat. Please don't let him tell me this has been a mistake.

  Her fair
ytale shook in the wings, waiting on Nico's next words.

  “I can't believe I've been given a second chance at love. I wasn't sure I would know how to fall in love again. Then I saw you across the piazza and I felt my heart move in my chest.” Nico took Natalie's hand in his and placed it over his heart. “Something told me that you were going to step into my life and change everything.”

  “I felt the same thing the first time I saw you.”

  “You've got me out here so deep. I love you, Natalie Hampton.”

  She looked up into his smile knowing that the words weren't thrown out on the end of a line to reel her in.

  “I love you, too.”

  The words tumbled out before she had time to think about them or second guess herself. Before her brain could engage, her heart took the wheel. Over the last few weeks she'd been asking herself, what would ‘love' would look like at this stage in her life.

  It looked like this.

  The truth was, she'd been falling in love from the very first day when she'd looked into those eyes and said, do I know you?

  Her, I love you, was waiting to come out. Waiting for the moment, and it was here. Right in this bed, with the morning sun spilling through the windows. They would add their own love story to the stones surrounding Villa Serenità.

  “I didn't want to say it in the heat of passion,” Nico said. “I wanted you to know how real it is. It deserves to be said in the light of day.”

  His hand brushed the hair from her face as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “Why the tears?”

  “Because... I'm in love.” She laughed. “Sorry for the waterworks.”

  “No.” He caressed her cheek. “Never be sorry for love. Leave your heart out on your sleeve where I can see it.”

  Nico wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her eyes and her face and her neck. He laid her down whispering over and over in her ear. “I love you. Ti amo. Ti amo. I love you.”

  “I love you,” she said, the words swallowed in a kiss. “And I never want to hurt you.”

  “Then don't.”

  “But I don't know what my life will look like six months from now. I —”

  Nico placed his fingers to her lips. Shushing her worries. “No one knows what their life will look like six months from now. It's a lesson I've learned well. Make all the plans you want, but life will take you where it will.”

  “I know.” The words were a sigh.

  “You don't have to make me any promises. Just let me love you.”

  Just let me love you.

  Her heart broke free. More tears tracked down her cheek as she gave herself over to the moment. She would let him love her. And she would love him back.

  31 Both Feet

  November 10, 1977

  My Dearest Monty,

  I have so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin. I can't believe it's November already and Christmas is staring us in the face. It's going to be a sad time for me, as Tess will be going home over the Christmas break to be with Stan.

  Stan.

  Don't get me started. He's being a total asshole about the divorce. He's claiming I'm completely off my rocker. Not funny, Stanley. But maybe he's right, I am completely off the reservation.

  I'm so glad I'm thousands of miles away and don't have to see his face. Dealing with him on the phone is bad enough. Our conversations are limited to Tess, but even those brief encounters are contentious. He refuses to deal with the situation like an adult. But hey, that's what I'm paying Greg Sinclair an outrageous amount of money for, right? Money. I could be divorced already if we didn't have to fight about money. Stan would gladly let me go, if I went for free. As much as I want this over with, I'm not going to roll over and play dead.

  Tess is doing well despite the unusual circumstances. I know the divorce is hard on her, but she's adapting and making the best of a difficult time or at the very least she's stuffing it all down inside. She's good at that. She learned it from me. Our talks have been much easier since we have nothing but the truth between us, now. Lesson learned.

  Even though I worry that she's holding back, on the outside she's blossoming. I hope I was right about Italy and that it heals her, too. She has both American and Italian friends and they giggle and play like kids anywhere. Her laughter gives me hope.

  I'm jealous of the way she's absorbed the Italian language like a sponge. Much better than I have. Tess informed me that if you want to learn to speak Italian, the best thing to do...is play. Who knew the only thing I needed to do was kick a soccer ball around in order to speak fluent Italian? I may have to give it a try.

  We've never had so much time together, it's a gift I'll never grow tired of. We read, play games and bake cookies... (yes you heard correctly, I'm baking cookies!) This sabbatical has also been good for my relationship with Nora.

  We've had long conversations like two women friends. Sharing and laughing. For as long as I can remember it's always been all smooth water on the surface for Nora, but let me tell you, that water runs deep. She's opened up like never before. Maybe it's her age. Maybe it was just time. Maybe it's Rome. Whatever the reason, I'm loving the changes.

  Speaking of love....

  I'm giving you a minute to pick yourself up off the floor after that line.

  I met someone. No, not just someone. I met Nico. Say it with me, Nico Di Natale. Can't you just picture him? He's everything, Monty. Everything. My God, I'm as silly as a schoolgirl. But love tends to reduce us to that doesn't it?

  I know my life is complicated right now, but love didn't stop to ask if it was a good time. For forty years I've done what I was told to do. First by Nora, then the studios, and finally, Stanley. I’ve always colored inside the lines. For once I will follow my heart.

  I'm going in with eyes wide open. No labels. No need to tie it up in a big bow. But whatever this is, I refuse to be just one-foot in.

  Are you still planning on coming over with the New Year? I can't wait to see you and fill you in on all the juicy details. And I can't wait for the two of you to meet.

  Until then

  Baci

  Nat

  32 Bette Davis

  November 30, 1977

  Natty,

  I'm still lying on the floor. Bear with me, as it's hard to write upside down. So, you've met some Italian dreamboat, who whispered words you couldn't understand in your ear, and you dropped your panties. Is that about right?

  Just kidding. Or am I?

  You say it's love, and I hope with all my heart that it is. I hope he's the best thing since spaghetti and meatballs. Because if he's anything less, I'll drag you home by the hair if I must. Damned right I'll be over there after the New Year for a complete inspection. Prepare the subject for an anal probe. Oh wait, that's something else I've got going on. Pay no attention to that.

  All kidding aside, my girl, you know what I want for you. I know this divorce is kicking you in the gut. I ran into Stanley at Barry Winston's annual party and believe me it took everything I had to keep from going Bette Davis on his ass. I wanted to toss my drink in his face, but who wants to waste a good vodka?

  We have lots to talk about. It's only a few weeks now. Uncork the wine and let it breathe, I'm on my way.

  Sloppy kisses,

  Monty

  33 Buon Natale

  Rome was magical in December. Piazza Navona was transformed from an historic baroque square into a Christmas market. Stands sprung up everywhere selling Christmas sweets and toys. Nativity scenes nestled next to figures of La Befana, in a happy mix of traditions. Not unlike Santa Claus next to the crèche.

  Nico had schooled Natalie on the Italian legend of La Befana, the good witch who having failed to join the wise men in their search for the Christ Child, went looking for him on her own. But of course, she was too late and having missed out on bestowing gifts to Jesus, she settled for flying around on her broom giving them to all the good little boys and girls on the Epiphany. Or if you were naughty you might find yourself
with the proverbial lump of coal.

  The hag dressed in torn stockings with a kerchief around her head and a wart on her nose made an unlikely Christmas addition to Natalie's household, but she thought it was a charming story and wanting to join in on the Roman festivities she made sure to purchase her own La Befana for her apartment. She especially loved the part of the tale that lectured about what to leave out for La Befana. No cookies and milk for this old gal. The way to her heart was a glass of red wine. It was Italy, after all.

  When the Christmas break came, Natalie sent Tess back to the states with a heavy heart. Of course, Stan deserved time with his daughter as well as she did, but it still hurt to know she'd be without her daughter for the holidays. Chloe flew home with Tess and Natalie kissed them both good-bye, standing at the windows of the airport waving until after the plane raced down the runway. Nora threw her arm over Natalie's shoulder and pulled her close as they made their way to the taxi stand.

  “God, I hate divorce,” Natalie said.

  “It's hell,” Nora commiserated. “Either it tears you apart when Daddy ignores his baby, or it rips your heart out when you have to share.”

  “Tess's face was emotionless. She's putting up a wall. Did you notice?”

  “No. I think she's just overwhelmed with the idea of the flight. And she doesn't want to disappoint either of you. It's a hard place to be. In the middle.”

  “And that's where I put her. In the middle, with no place to turn.”

  Nora squeezed Natalie's shoulders. “It is what it is, darling. You've made your decision. Now the only thing left to do is make the best of it.”

  “Right.”

  Natalie slid across the back seat of the taxi and leaned into the window, second guessing her every move. Would it have been better to stay in a loveless marriage for another eight years until Tess went off to college? Nico's smile flashed before her and the thought of living without love was akin to asking her not to breathe. Maybe she could have done it, before she met Nico. But not now. She'd taken a bite of the apple and there was no turning back.