2. Capri
2
CAPRI
“I remember reading about this place,” I recall, pointing at the antique stand in front of us. We’ve been here less than six hours, and my mind is reeling with all the potential I can feel this city brings.
Just the air here feels different. Maybe that’s just because I feel different.
I swivel my head, taking in the beautiful landscape surrounding the outdoor market we’ve been exploring all morning. “I heard there’s a local that makes lemon spaghetti from scratch. Evidently, it’s so good that the line wraps around the street corner before they open.”
“If we had a list, I’d totally tell you to write that down,” Collie laughs, adjusting her wide-rimmed sunglasses.
“Har har,” I say sarcastically.
The Market in the village center is incredibly welcoming. I’m not sure why I pictured this part of the island being vacant, with nothing but motor scooters and gas fumes. The opposite surrounds me.
Vendor tents litter the town’s lush field, centered around shops and hole-in-the-wall restaurants on the outer perimeter—likely the town’s culinary staples.
Mom-and-pop shops remind me a lot of back home.
A place that doesn’t feel so homey anymore.
The first thing I’ve noticed about Capri is the vibrant colors. No surface was spared from the cheeriness of the island’s color scheme. Buildings of pink, teal blue, sage green, and pastel yellow enhance the charm of the outdoor square. Bougainvillea must be a favorite around here, as bright violet blooms are planted across every corner. They only add to the coastal comfort vibes.
The charm of the island can’t be missed.
In the distance, I can see the faint outline of the Mediterranean cliffs, a location I hope to visit on this trip, and the expanse of the deep ocean behind it. Seeing such beauty in something created by nature and taken care of by people is breathtaking.
I love it here.
Back home in Timber Heights, the small town has well-built character, but it’s nothing to the extent of this. I thought I loved the old-world, prehistoric city vibe, but I’m confident this reigns supreme. There’s just something about being on an island during the summer.
Most of my time is spent inside for work during the week, so it’s not like I get to truly appreciate where I live anyway. Unlike you would here, I’d assume.
“Ooooh, let’s get a lemon spritz,” Collie exclaims as she leads us to where an older man stands behind a wooden bar top, juicing fresh lemons.
“Posso offrirti un drink?” The man asks with a bright smile on his face.
“Yes, you may,” Collie answers. “We’ll take two, please.”
Fresh mint, peeled lemon twists, and Limoncello di Capri scatter across the table before him. I can tell by his technique that he’s no stranger to a good lemon spritz. There’s muscle memory in his moves.
The smile that lights his face as he hands us our drinks is what I’d imagine genuine happiness to feel like.
I can’t even begin to explain how often I’ve found myself wondering what my purpose is. Wondering what I’m good at now that I’m not a wife. I’d love to experience this man’s level of joy. Even if just for a moment’s time. Even if it were juicing lemons.
I feel slightly robbed of my chance by my ex-husband. If only I had known about his infidelity sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted five years of my adult life with someone who had no respect for me.
That’s years of validating his absence.
Years of dry cleaning his suits and ironing his ties.
Years of tolerating his insufferable mother.
Years away from finding a man who would love me well.
Years I’ll never get back.
That’s what hurts the most.
I’m twenty-six and not getting any younger. Teaching kindergarten, I feel much older than I am.
The days are long and the years are short. That couldn’t be more true.
I pull my sister close and link arms. “So, what’s next, Col? You said to fuck the itinerary. Well, consider it thoroughly fucked.”
“Now you’re gettin’ it. Beach or lunch first?” she asks me with a grin.
“What kind of question is that?” I’ll never say no to food.
Her bright blue eyes beam up at me. “Lunch it is.”
Searching for a lunch spot, I have to fight the orderly side of myself that notices restaurants I read had good reviews. I told Collie I’d leave the buzzkill at the resort, and I’m doing that.
But this food better be good.
Around us, families shuffle in and out of the vendor tents with reusable bags of goods and what look like fun collectibles. Little girls pull their loved ones to jewelry tables with necklaces and bracelets made from seashells. Runners sprint along the cobblestone path in the market center, not letting the unsteadiness of the architecture ruin their stride.
I hear soft tunes of an acoustic guitar strumming in the background.
The easiness makes the recent strife in my life fade away. Like I’m transported to another moment, another season in time.
Just for a little while.
“Oh, pizza!” Collie shouts. “Sound good to you?”
I laugh. “I’m good with whatever.”
Collie leads us to the quaint pizzeria with copious amounts of outdoor seating and waiters circling tables with olive oil and fresh Italian bread.
My mouth waters at the smells.
“I love Italy,” Collie mumbles, rushing toward the entrance door. I take a moment to appreciate my older sister. We’re only six years apart and you’d never know. Collie is the life of the party, the one everyone loves to be around. The one who, growing up, all the guys my age wanted to be with. That hasn’t changed for her at thirty-two. She’s still just as beautiful with her short, bright blonde hair and petite frame. She’s a single fitness instructor who’s never known a stranger and loves to take risks.
I’m the opposite.
I’ve been married, dated the same guy in high school, and I’m a teacher. I eat the same breakfast every morning and drink my tea with a splash of cream and two teaspoons of sugar. I like to know what comes next. In some ways, I understand it can be extreme to have such a strict regime, but I don’t know how to be anything else.
I’m type A.
That’s why saying ‘fuck the itinerary’ took a lot of strength for me to do. I know Collie needs this week of refreshment just as much as I do.
Call us the Traveling Sisters. A.K.A.—avoiding real life problems.
The waiter greets us and leads us to a table outside on the perimeter of the village. The metal bistro tables are decorated with fresh flowers and linens, while the strumming of the guitar I heard before sounds off behind us.
“Two limoncellos, please,” Collie tells the waiter, ordering for us.
“Look at you taking the lead,” I tease her. “We gettin’ drunk today?” I joke, sending her a smirk.
She smiles wide. “If it gets you to loosen up, then yes,” Collie says with confidence. “But look at you letting me lead. Isn’t letting someone else handle things for you fun?”
“Uh, not really,” I admit. “Besides, I’m plenty loose.” I shimmy my shoulders to prove it.
“Your excitement has me truly thrilled,” she jokes.
Time to switch gears. “Drew called me on the plane ride over,” I tell Collie, my tone stale.
“Please tell me you ignored him,” she murmurs, rolling her eyes.
Collie hates Drew almost as much as I do. I can tell she wants to say more when his name is brought up, but chooses to stay silent.
I appreciate that since I have no interest in trashing him. He ruined his reputation all on his own. Voicing it myself is just a waste of words.
Although he’s my least favorite human on this planet, I refuse to be the poor victim hurt by his schemes. So, I play the part. I act like I don’t give a shit who he sticks his dick in and focus on being the happy woman I’m choosing to be.
He doesn’t need to know I sit in my apartment alone at night with a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, wishing I could erase time—erase all the wasted years I spent defending him.
It’s easy to misconstrue my loneliness as heartbreak.
I’m not heartbroken—not even in the slightest.
“You actually answered? Capri, you guys have been divorced for two weeks, and now he wants to call you?”
“I didn’t answer, and I never plan to. I owe that man nothing,” I tell her honestly. I have to let her feel like she’s contributing to me feeling better.
Collie crosses her arms as the waiter delivers our drinks and fresh bread. “Good. You worried me there for a second.”
I tilt my head. “Cols, you always worry about me. I’ve been through worse than a deceiving husband; I can handle Drew.”
That’s an understatement.
“I’m sorry,” Collie exhales. “I know you can, but I literally want to throat punch him for what he did to you. Sleeping with your best friend for your entire marriage—I mean, who does that?”
“Apparently, a man I thought was worthy enough to call my husband.”
“Not to mention after…” Collie’s voice cracks.
She doesn’t even have to finish her sentence. “I know,” I whisper. “I should have known. There were so many signs. But I couldn’t see past the unbearable pain. It was one of the darkest times in my life, Cols. I’m not sure I’d be okay today without you.”
Collie’s been the one person in my life that has always shown up for me. She held me while my heart shattered unexpectedly and my husband was a ghost. Nowhere to be found until days later, only for him to then act as if nothing happened.
If I could go back in time, I’d do things differently. Show up for myself more and refuse to let him get away with abandoning me so easily.
It’s peculiar how clear things are once all the pieces are finally revealed. Now, not one part of me cares what he was doing during that time.
The people who loved me then and love me still were there.
“I’m not saying what happened was for a reason; I’d never want that for you, but maybe there’s a silver lining behind all of it. A reason your heart had to break in order to find yourself again.”
I think about that every day. There has to be something beautiful coming to make the challenging years worth it in the end.
A rainbow of hope.
Now, the challenge is discovering who I am now that I’m not a wife and before that, Drew’s girlfriend?
That’s all I’ve ever been to the people in my life. Not even a teacher.
Coming to Capri is my chance for a sabbatical on my terms. It’s also the place my parents first met—hence, gifting me with the name.
“That’s what I’m hoping for. That’s all I could ever hope for. I think I deserve a little bit of good, right? Something to show for all this shit I’ve been through,” I ask her, smiling to lighten the mood.
“Not to mention, taking it like a fucking champ.” Collie reaches for my hand. “You deserve all the good, babe. Every last bit of it.”
Our conversation settles as we enjoy our meal and reminisce on being younger without responsibilities.
My eyes find a candy emporium across the cobblestone square, and excitement rushes through me.
“Remember those shops?” I point to the red and white candy store and Collie turns to look. “Mom and Dad used to take us to the little one in the mall growing up.”
Collie laughs. “Yeah, you always got those mini jawbreaker things that you claimed were actually chewy when we all knew they weren’t.”
“They are chewy!”
“Never have I ever met a jawbreaker that wasn’t hard. Hence, jawbreaker, Capri.”
I giggle. “Whatever. You’re one to talk. You always got the cotton candy jelly beans. If you wanted cotton candy, why not get the real thing?”
Her face scrunches up. “One, because ew. And two, because it’s not the same thing.”
“I beg to differ,” I tell her confidently. “I think I’m gonna go check it out. Think they’re just as good?” My brows peak in question.
“Probably not.” Collie giggles before taking a big sip of her drink. “If this is your way of letting loose, I love to see it.” She eyes me sarcastically.
I flip her off. It’s our love language to each other. “Funny. Wanna come?” I ask.
“Nah, I’m gonna order another.” Collie raises her glass to me in a salute. “Seizing the day and all that.”
“Okay. Be right back.” I stand and gather my things.
“Bring me back a bag of cotton candy beans, Capri! Don’t let a cinnamon one anywhere near it,” Collie yells as I head toward the little shop.
I shake my head and laugh to myself. “Those are the best ones.”
* * *
The options are endless.
I don’t have a crazy sweet tooth, but just mentioning those mini jawbreakers I once loved had me wanting them right away.
The Candy Emporium looks like an explosion of sugar and vibrant color.
Peach-colored walls are lined with cylindrical canisters of different colored powdered sugar and small plastic tubes waiting to be filled. A round display case is centered in the shop with candied desserts.
Chocolate covered Rice Krispies.
Cake pops.
Candy apples.
And fudge.
The lower level of the walls holds clear dispensers, showcasing every candy you could possibly imagine.
I stalk the aisle, searching for the mini tooth breakers.
Who knew I’d be reunited with a childhood memory in Capri, Italy? Not like I couldn’t get these back in the States, but the moment called for it here.
Found ’ em.
I hastily grab a clear bag from the wall and open the lid to scoop some into my bag. God, just the smell of this place reminds me of my mom’s baking back home.
I scoop the multicolored balls and drop them into my bag, contemplating how carried away I should get.
I’m on vacation. Time to pack this baby full.
“That’s what she said.” The voice beside me causes my body to freeze.
Did I say that out loud?
It’s not a feminine voice—nowhere close, actually.
The voice is deep and gravelly with a rasp that makes it unique.
My skin tingles as a muscular arm reaches into the jawbreaker dispenser, grabs one, and tosses it into his mouth.
A sharp hiss breaks out. “Fucking hell. About fractured my jaw.”
That’s when I finally turn to meet the eyes of the man who just ate candy directly from the case.
And what a man he is.
Bright green eyes that resemble the vibrancy of palm trees in the peak of summer connect with mine. You can practically feel the life pulsating from them. His long, rich brown hair glistens with ease, meeting the top of his neck and flipping slightly at the ends. I can’t help but notice the small touches of gray speckled throughout. He’s not old, but definitely older than me.
A silver fox—but younger. A silver cub.
His skin is an unblemished canvas with prominent cheekbones and a strong jawline. Neatly trimmed stubble lines his cheeks, bringing attention to his full lips. Lips I’d pay decent money for.
They don’t make ’em like this in Timber Heights.
It’s refreshing to see a man who’s not in a suit for once. Rest in fucking peace, ties and ironed dress shirts.
Don’t even get me started on his height and muscles. The man is in another league of his own.
Too pretty to be frequenting a candy store and stealing jawbreakers.
Too pretty to be smiling at me.
“That’s a big smile for someone who almost broke a tooth,” I say, and I’m not sure where my courage comes from.
His smile brightens. For some reason, he looks hesitant, surprised even, to be smiling. I’m not sure how I know that, but I’m confident it’s because I’ve smiled the same. “Clever. How do you eat those things?” He nods at my near-full bag. “Isn’t candy supposed to be edible?”
I notice he doesn’t have the traditional Italian accent I’ve learned most locals have in Capri. He sounds very American, but I don’t want to assume.
I give the bag a little shake. “Last I remember they were,” I admit. “I haven’t had them since I was a kid. Figured I’d give them another shot.” I send a hopeful smile to the handsome stranger.
He crosses his arms with a smug look on his face. “Okay, let’s see it.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask.
“Go on.” He nods. “Try one. Let’s see if they’re as good as you remember.”
I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I reach my hand in and grab two, dropping them in my mouth. He waits for my approval like it’s fun for him. I’m questioning my memory and if I actually remember them being soft or if I didn’t seem to care as a child.
I bite into chewy perfection.
“I knew it.” I yelp, and sure enough, he’s still here. Not looking any less comfortable.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Good?”
I nod, smiling big. “So good.”
His eyes fall to my lips for a brief second before he’s quickly pulling them away. I mindlessly turn to zip my bag up and reach for an empty bag to scoop Collie’s jellybeans.
“Now, these are the best,” the handsome stranger says.
I shift in his direction, judging him completely for the disgusting atrocity he scoops into his bag.
Banana Runts.
“What are you, sixty?” I blurt out. My hand flies to cover my mouth as if I can make my statement go away. I can’t.
Thankfully, he laughs and plays off my awkwardness.
“Not quite. More like thirty-nine.” Well, that answers my question on the age. He is, in fact, a silver cub.
Finest thirty-nine-year-old man I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, god. That was so rude. Not sure what I was thinking.” I giggle.
He chuckles and slides past me to scoop some mini jawbreakers into his bag. Interesting. “You were thinking I have poor taste in candy.” He laughs harder, and suddenly, I can’t stop.
“It is a pretty lame choice. I think my grandma ordered those in bulk on QVC when I was younger.”
“Cute,” he murmurs, almost like he’s telling himself, staring at me with an intensity that feels foreign. “You’re cute.”
My blush can’t be good coloring against my bright yellow sundress. “Hardly,” I say. “But thanks.”
“It’s not every day I’m insulted by a beautiful woman in a candy shop.” He pauses, taking in the setting. “This is a first for me.” His smile grows as he’s looking more and more comfortable gifting it.
“I’d hardly call it that. Just teaching you a lesson, old man.” I giggle.
His smile brightens, and my eyes follow the thick corded veins of his forearms as he runs a hand through his hair. So thick and strong. There’s so much muscle; he must train in the gym for hours.
“Jones.”
I lift my head, pulling my attention from my evident distraction. “Huh?”
He laughs again. “I’m Jones. Unless you’d like to stick with old man?”
Jones reaches his hand out…to shake. A handshake?
So, he’s a gentleman… and clearly not like the men from my generation.
It’s enticing. Alluring.
I reach my hand out to introduce myself, but the words stay locked tight. His smile never fades, and his eyes never shift as he says, “It’s wonderful to meet you.”
I feel his thumb slowly soothe the soft part of my hand, and I have to fight like hell to keep my eyes from drawing to the motion.
There’s no way he did that intentionally, right?
“Jones is probably the better option. It’s great to meet you, Jones.” I smile, and for the first time in ages, it feels genuine. Like I don’t have to force it out.
Jones. It’s unique.
What are the chances I’d meet a man that finally takes the time to notice me and show me some kindness in Italy?
“Capri!” My head shifts to the shop door, finding my sister searching for me. She spots me and her eyes go wide. “Hey! You good?”
I nod, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yep, be right there.”
Collie winks and makes a thrusting motion, darting her tongue in and out before walking back into the sun. She’s deranged. Thank God Jones can’t see her.
“That’s my cue.” Seems I didn’t have to introduce myself after all.
Jones smiles, and I realize I haven’t stopped. “Are you vacationing, Capri?” he asks. “I’ve never seen you around, and I would have remembered.”
Thanks a lot, Collie.
“Something like that.” My body heats from his subtle compliment.
He nods. “Make sure you see the Grottos while you’re visiting. It’s a must-do in Capri,” Jones insists.
I nod. “Noted.” I step away carefully, afraid that if I blink, he might vanish before me. “See you around…maybe.” I grin before paying for my candy and sauntering toward the door, doing everything I can not to turn around and see if he’s looking.
“I hope like hell you do,” his smooth voice calls out to me.
My heart leaps into uncharted territory. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt butterflies, but they’re here and in full flight.
The bell of the door ringing is all I hear as I make my way to Collie at a nearby bench.
I flirted with a stranger.
A very handsome stranger. And I liked it.