Chapter 34 Charlotte
Charlotte
There was something different about the quality of the light in Rome. Sunlight dazzled on ancient stones and smooth columns. We strolled the length of a sparkling green rectangular pool that held a mirrored reflection of the sky. Smooth marble gods lined the walkway.
A group of people stood at easels painting the surrounding cypress and olive trees beyond the ruins, and I could understand why. There had never been a brighter, bluer sky or a more tranquil setting. Beauty unfolded around every corner. Every inch begged to be committed to paper.
I perched in a shaded spot at the edge of the pool and listened to the audio tour I’d downloaded on my phone.
Dad had toured us around so many old battlefields and ancient abbeys when we were teenagers.
I’d taken having an expert tour guide for granted.
Cole had always hung off my dad’s every word while I’d been counting down the minutes until I could escape to the gift shop.
I paused the app and pulled out an earbud to tell Cole what I’d learned.
“So, this was Emperor Hadrian’s country getaway. It’s an entire village with baths, libraries, and a theater. He collected all the things he liked from Greek and Egyptian culture. It’s kind of like your Cotswold mansion, except he couldn’t afford an Estonian igloo sauna.”
“Cheapskate.” Cole shot me a wry look and sat next to me.
“Here.” I held out an earbud to him. “Want to listen?”
“Sure.” He took the earbud and popped it in. We sat shoulder to shoulder, the white cord stretched between us. He leaned in closer, tilting his face to me, and it reminded me of all the times Cole had coaxed me to listen to some obscure indie band when we were kids.
He peered up at the crumbling stone pillars. “It’ll look great when it’s finished.”
I laughed. “Please. That is such a Dad joke.”
He nodded. “That was one of Roy’s finest.”
“I miss him,” I said. “It’s so weird, the two of us being here without him.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I was thinking the same thing. I miss him, too.”
I pulled out my earbud and Cole did the same.
I’d thought I was prepared for it. I’d lost my dad slowly, in pieces, over all those years.
We’d had him back those last few days. His body was tired, but his whole soul had sparkled in his dark eyes.
Alzheimer’s had stolen our names from his mind, but he was still there in those hugs.
I’d felt him. That was something to be grateful for, at least. I peered up at the clear blue sky and let the warm breeze caress my skin.
He’d needed peace. I could only hope he had that now.
I cleared my throat. “Dad talked about you the past couple of years.”
Cole propped his sunglasses on his head and darted a glance at me. “He did?”
“He’d always mistake male doctors or nurses for you and lecture them about the Byzantine Empire or something.
We never corrected him. It made him happy to think you were there.
He was in and out of hospital so many times in that last year.
We knew it was coming. We kept him at home, which is what he wanted. ”
Heat pressed behind my eyes, but I held my tears in check.
I didn’t want to be sad today. Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to come to a place like this and be sad.
“It doesn’t make it easier, but we did everything we could for him.
I’m glad for you that you can remember him how he was when he was well. That’s what he would have wanted.”
Cole was silent for a long time. He stirred a pattern in the dirt with a stick. After a while, he spoke in a quiet voice. “You were a good daughter. You cared for him when he needed it.”
A pang pulled at my heart. “I’m not a saint. Sometimes it was difficult and frustrating, even though I wanted to be there for him. Now I wake up and I’m thirty. My twenties have vanished.”
“But now you can do anything you want. Paint in Florence. Study ceramics in Kyoto. The world is yours. You’re going to have so much money, you’ll never want for anything.”
“When we’re done, you mean. When you pay me off?”
His eyes slipped away. “Yes. When I pay you what you’ve earned.”
We fell into deep silence. The breeze whispered through the trees at our backs. After a while, Cole shot me a sidelong glance.
“Hadrian must have been a busy man. He had time to build his wall and do all this.”
“Nobody works harder than Hadrian. You missed the part earlier where it said he made beards fashionable.”
“I’ll have to tell Lucas. He’ll be glad to know he was fashionable once. He’s only two centuries too late.”
I laughed, and a knot of tension unwound inside of me. My only defense in this life was humor. Better to laugh than to cry. Cole had always seemed to understand that about me. I’d always felt able to laugh easily around him.
“You don’t get on well with your brothers? They seemed so nice at the wedding.”
He gave a small nod. “They aren’t that bad, but never tell them I said that.”
I leaned back on my hands, my arms taking the weight and my fingers splayed on the warm ground. The pool looked so inviting. I took off my sandals and dipped my feet into the cool water. “I spoke to your nephews. They said you’re their favorite uncle.”
A smile ghosted his lips. “Did they now? They must be angling for something from me. I’ll have to bring them a gift back from this trip.”
My gaze drifted back to the group of artists working at easels.
Cole slanted his head to watch me. “You want to join them?”
I tipped my face to the sun and closed my eyes. “Me? No, I can’t just tag on someone else’s art class.”
“We can arrange something for you? You could come back here tomorrow and paint?”
I swirled my feet in the pool, tracing circles with my toes. “I don’t do that anymore.”
“Paint? Why not?”
The trickling water from the fountain grew loud. Something hot rose in my chest. Panic, or maybe irritation. Please don’t press me about it. “I just don’t.”
“Never? You used to love it.”
“That was before.”
He opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but some crazy impulse seized me and I splashed a little cold water from the fountain at him.
The spray landed across his chest. Oh God.
My stomach dropped. The air around us stilled.
Bird trills from the surrounding trees grew deafening in the tense silence.
Cole’s inscrutable gaze dropped to the wet stain on his expensive-looking shirt and rose to lock with mine.
“I’m sorry.” Heat blistered the back of my neck. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean to—”
A laugh erupted from him, cutting me off. It was a rare and genuine laugh, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners. “What was that for?”
Relief flooded me. Thank God. He wasn’t bothered. “I just . . . I didn’t know how else to shut you up.”
He shook his head in amusement. “So you splash me?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
The silence grew loud again, and I wondered if he might splash me back. The old Cole would have. The old Cole wouldn’t have been able to resist retaliating. But he didn’t. He stood and offered me his hand. “Come on. What do you want to see next?”
Heat spread through me when I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “The Maritime Theater? It’s a little island with a drawbridge that Hadrian built so he could be alone when being so filthy rich and important got him down.” I flashed a teasing grin. “I think you’ll appreciate it.”
We spent the day strolling the extensive picturesque grounds, and maybe it was the sunshine, or being somewhere so beautiful, or just doing something impulsive for once, but I had a new sense of lightness.
I hadn’t clowned around in forever, but it had always been fun on our teenage excursions, trying to crack Cole’s serious visage and amuse him.
Getting him to laugh so unselfconsciously was like finding a cheat code on a video game and unlocking a fun new level. I needed more of it.
As we walked around, I gave the statues silly names and imitated a few poses, pretending to be a goddess or a water nymph.
It didn’t take long for Cole to join in with the fun in his own way.
He made up outlandish facts about the ruins and teased me for taking so many photos.
Of course, I reminded him how rich it was for an obsessive workaholic to accuse me of not living in the moment.
In a shady spot, we ate the takeout picnic the hotel had given us, and then walked back to sit at the edge of the pool.
“Am I safe sitting by water or are you going to splash me again?” he asked, turning his face up to the sun.
“It depends on how annoying you plan to be.” I held my hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll try to resist, but no promises.”
A companionable silence fell between us, until he shot me a curious glance.
“What about sketching? Do you still sketch?”
Not this again. We’d been having a perfectly lovely day. I pulled my feet out of the water and held them out to dry in the breeze. “It’s almost like you’re begging me to splash you.”
He smirked. “You wouldn’t dare do it again. When was the last time you sketched?”
I sighed. “Shall we look at something else? This place is huge.”
His eyes traveled over my face. “How did you like art school? You never talk about it.”
“Seriously, let’s move. We only have half an hour before the last bus back.”
His compelling gaze bored into me. “I remember you always had a sketch pad tucked under your arm. You took it everywhere.”
A flush rose in my cheeks. “Don’t. I looked so pretentious. I’d spend so long in the woods painting the bluebells. Days and days. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I slipped on my sandals and stood. “Let’s carry on.”
He peered up at me with a hand over his eyes to shield his handsome face from the sun. “You could never be pretentious. That’s not part of your nature. You have a gift. Something really special. Roy thought so, too.”
My jaw tensed. I just wanted this conversation to be over, and I knew Cole too well. The more I tried to change the topic, the more he’d dig in.