Chapter 23Sofia
Chapter 23
Sofia
“Who the heck is Hadley?” Marco asks as we follow the two ladies through the throngs of people enjoying the festival.
“It was the first name I could think of in a pinch,” I reply.
“But isn’t Hadley a teddy bear?”
I chortle. “Is she?”
“He. Hadley the Bear is a he.”
I quirk a brow. “You seem very knowledgeable about teddy bears for a man in his mid-twenties.”
He shrugs, clearly enjoying our easy banter. “What can I say? I’m a knowledgeable guy.”
“About teddy bears?” I ask with a laugh.
“About teddy bears.” He flashes me a grin. “And don’t think you’re getting out of answering my question. Why Hadley?”
“Don’t judge me.”
He places his hand over his heart. “I would never.”
“It’s the name of a character in a movie I watched recently. Just a silly romcom. Not your cup of tea, I’m sure.”
“Hey, I already admitted to liking Serendipity . Try me.”
“Okay. It’s a movie called Love at First Sight , and it’s about a couple who meet at an airport and fall in love, but they lose one another’s numbers, and it’s left up to fate if they ever meet again.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“It sounds to me like a rip off of Serendipity .”
“It’s so not!” I exclaim, nudging his arm with my hand—and trying to ignore how firm and muscular his arm is.
“Hey, don’t handle the goods, lady,” he retorts, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “You haven’t thrown a ring at this, you know.” He wriggles his fingers in front of my face, and I laugh.
Erma comes to a stop by an elderly man so lined he resembles a raisin more than a person. “This is my brother, Dr. Felix Esposito. Felix, this young couple has come to see you.”
“At last, the professor,” Marco whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck .
The professor peers at us over a pair of gold reading glasses balanced on the end of his nose. His lips lift into a warm smile, trimmed with a bright white mustache, and his eyes sparkle. He’s wearing a dark suit, a gray sweater vest, and a navy cap, looking every bit like he belongs in this stunning ancient village, perched at the top of a mountain.
“And who do we have here?” he asks in a throaty voice.
Marco reaches out to shake his hand. “I’m Marco Revera, Dr. Esposito. We spoke on the phone about a translation.”
“Ah, yes. The young man with the mystery scroll,” he replies. His eyes slip to me. “Hello, miss.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Dr. Esposito. I’m… Hadley.” I almost forget my made-up name—a bad start, particularly considering I only just chose it a few minutes ago.
“She’s his lover,” Erma adds.
Considering the tension between Marco and me, I’m finding the way these ladies like to throw the word “lover” around quite awkward. Okay, a lot awkward.
I don’t look at Marco.
“Wonderful. Wonderful,” Dr. Esposito exclaims, rubbing his hands together. “Did you bring the scroll?”
“It’s in the car,” Marco explains. “I can go and get it now if you like?”
Dr. Esposito looks appalled. “Now? Can’t you see? It’s the town’s summer festival. Everywhere, people are celebrating.”
Frustration twists in my chest. “But we came all this way for you to translate it for us, Professor.”
“Life isn’t about work and translations, is it?” Dr. Esposito says, gesticulating widely.
It is right now.
Marco shoots me a worried look .
“No. Life is about so many more important things. Look around you. What do you see?”
We do as we’re told, not sure if it’s a rhetorical question or not.
When the professor doesn’t say another word, Marco replies, “The festival and all the festivalgoers.”
“You see life. That’s what you see. Life!” Dr. Esposito exclaims.
Life. Got it.
I press my lips together, perturbed. “What about later in the evening, after the festival is done? Could we, say, go and enjoy all the festivities and then meet with you afterward?”
“We’re letting off the lanterns tonight.”
“After that?” I ask, my voice squeaking with worry.
To my surprise, he responds, “All right. I will see you at eight o’clock sharp.”
My features relax, and I throw Marco a relieved smile. “We can do that, can’t we, Marco? Eight o’clock it is.”
“Good. Good.” The professor pushes himself up onto his walking cane. “Now, I must take my nap. Enjoy your evening here in fair Monteluce, and I will see you bright and early for breakfast.”
Wait, what? Breakfast ?!
“But, good sir, we came all this way to see you for the sole purpose of the translation,” I protest, panic tightening my words.
He takes my hands in his, leaning heavily on his walking stick. “My dear, don’t rush through life, or you’ll miss the little moments that matter the most.”
He’s getting poetic now?
“But you see, it does matter. We really need you to do this translation for us. It’s important,” I reply.
“Which is why I said I will see you first thing in the morning,” he replies. “I could tell the two of you are in a hurry, so I didn’t want to delay a moment longer.” He gives my hands a squeeze. “Your future will come soon enough, my dear girl. Cherish the present while it’s here. It’s a gift to us all.”
Erma looks proud. “Well said, Felix. Just like our old papa.”
“He was a wise man, your papa,” Constance agrees.
“Is that your final offer? Eight tomorrow morning?” Marco asks.
“If it’s too early, I could delay it until later in the day or even the day after, if that works better for you young people,” Dr. Esposito replies, and both Marco and I respond quickly.
“Eight tomorrow morning is just great,” I say.
“See you for breakfast,” Marco echoes.
As the professor hobbles away for his nap, he throws us a wave.
“What are we going to do until tomorrow morning?” I ask, more to myself than anyone else.
“You will go to the festival and enjoy all the activities,” Constance answers.
My eyes widen. “I can’t be away for the night. I said I would be back this evening,” I say to Marco.
“It’s okay. We can come back another time,” Marco says to me.
“Rubbish,” Constance exclaims.
“Excuse me?”
“You have the perfect opportunity to enjoy your evening and then get the work you need done tomorrow morning,” she replies.
Marco shakes his head. “But we only came for the day. Hadley needs to get home. We don’t have any change of clothes or anywhere to stay. ”
“We have shops. Don’t we, Erma?” Constance says.
“Very good shops, as well as the stalls here at the festival. You can buy whatever you need.”
“And you can stay at the only hotel in town. It’s very nice. Very comfortable. You will be very happy,” Constance pronounces.
Marco shakes his head at them, smiling. “You’ve got it all figured out.”
“We do,” Erma agrees.
“We are old, but we are wise,” Constance adds for good measure.
Marco turns to me. It might be no problem for him to stay the night, but for me, it’s a different story altogether. “What do you think?”
I chew on my lip. “I suppose I can call Dana and tell her I’ve got held up.”
“Who’s Dana? Your sister? Your roommate?” Erma asks.
Now she’s just being downright nosy.
“She’s my lady’s m—” I stop midword. “She’s my friend.”
Erma waves her hand in the air. “If she’s a good friend, she will understand, and besides, you look too… how do you say, uptight.” She gestures at me.
“I do?” I guffaw.
“You need to relax. Have some fun. Enjoy your handsome lover,” Erma instructs.
Geez. Again with the “lover.”
“It will be good for you. For both of you,” Constance adds.
I throw caution to the wind. We’re here and we want the scroll translated. If that means spending the night, then so be it .
I smile at them. “All right. We’ll stay in your gorgeous village.”
The two ladies smirk.
“But first, you must have a cup of the local wine, grown in the lush fields not far from here,” Constance says. “Our festival is celebrating the wine and the food of our region, so it is part of enjoying the festival.” She gestures at a young man at the stall beside us, who produces a wine bottle, pulling the cork out with a pop.
“I could have a glass of wine, considering it’s part of the festival and all,” I say.
“Well, if it’s part of the festival,” Marco replies, his face alight.
The man pours wine into cups, and Marco passes them around to each of the women. “To your beautiful town,” he says as he holds his cup up.
“No. To love,” Erma replies, and I swear I see a twinkle in her eye.
“To love,” we echo before we take a sip. It’s a surprisingly fine wine, cooling and fresh, and it slips down my throat easily.
“Thank you so much for your help, ladies. You’ve been very welcoming,” Marco says.
“We appreciate visitors here in our little village. I hope you enjoy the festival,” Constance replies.
Marco offers me his arm. “Shall we, lover?”
“Don’t,” I warn, but it’s light-hearted. “Where should we go first? We will need toothpaste and brushes as well as a change of clothes and something to eat.”
“I have an idea. How about we simply wander around with no goal whatsoever.”
“Other than to find a toothbrush and a change of clothes and a hotel and?— ”
“Let’s think about all of that later,” Marco interrupts. “For now, let’s simply enjoy this place.”
I open my mouth to protest but close it again. Perhaps Marco is right? Perhaps it would be better if we simply wandered around together, soaking up the atmosphere of this quaint mountainous village.
“What do you say?” he asks. “Forget anything we have to do and just do some things we want to do?”
It's so very Marco to not have a plan, to just wander around and enjoy the festivities. If it were left to me, my instinct would be to ensure that we had everything we needed before we did anything else. But there's something in the air here in this small mountainous village, and the idea of wandering around with no particular goal is altogether rather appealing.
I nod, my mind made-up. “Let’s do it your way.”
He grins. “I was hoping you’d see it that way.”
We wander through the festival. The air is filled with laughter and music, creating a festive atmosphere. Food trucks and market stalls line the cobblestone roads, offering local wines, cheeses, and freshly baked bread, the aroma of which makes my belly rumble. We wander from stall to stall until we reach one of the food trucks. They’re serving simple fare, and we order a couple of sandwiches filled with ham, cheese, and a local tomato sauce the proprietor insists we try.
He tells us the price, and I immediately open my purse.
“I’ve got this,” Marco tells me, handing over the cash.
“You don’t have to pay for me,” I reply.
“I know I don’t.”
We take our sandwiches and find a white wrought iron table and chairs beside a solo violinist playing classical music.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Marco says as he looks around .
Along with the string lights that must look stunning at night, multicolored bunting is suspended above our heads, and people’s balconies are adorned with bright flowers, some filled with people watching the festivities below.
“It’s a novel experience for me to be in a place like this without having to do something official and being followed around by security.”
“I forget. You probably don’t ever get to do this sort of thing.”
“I don’t. But so far, no one seems to have recognized me, although I did have a heart-stopping moment when one of the ladies told me I looked like, well, me.”
“You handled it well, Hadley.”
I laugh. “I quite like being Hadley. Not the teddy bear.”
“Well, if it helps, you don’t look anything like a teddy bear.”
“Good to know.”
Marco takes a bite of his sandwich. “This is good,” he exclaims through a mouthful.
“Weren’t you taught not to talk with your mouth full, Mr. Revera?”
“Yep.” He takes another bite, grinning at me.
This is easy. Fun. Being here with Marco feels like a dream. Tonight, we can relax and enjoy the festival, knowing that in the morning, we’ll meet with the professor to get the scroll translated.
It’s just him and me, Marco and Hadley, sitting together as we enjoy our meal in the picturesque spot of Monteluce.