Chapter Ten #4
Chloe has Reggie on his leash, and Marina is still with us, even as the others head down the street toward where they’ll meet their Ubers. We wave some more until they turn the corner and are out of sight. The same corner I’ve watched Marina turn so many times.
“Well,” Marina says, looking down the street that’s still bustling, “you headed back to the hotel?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, hedging a bit.
“I’m not tired,” Chloe chimes in, bless her. And then, as if to punctuate her words, Reggie gives one yip from the end of his leash and starts to walk away from the hotel.
“Clearly, neither is Reggie,” I say with a laugh. I meet Marina’s gaze. “I could wander a bit.”
And just like that, the three of us and my dog begin to stroll the busy streets of Rome at night.
Shops are still open, much to my surprise.
It’s not just bars and restaurants. We pass a leather shop, the stationery shop I’ve been to, and a little handmade soap boutique, all lit up and open for business.
Chloe and Reggie walk slightly ahead of us, which is amusing because she has no idea where she’s going.
I walk next to Marina. Close. Close enough to feel the heat coming off her body.
Close enough to smell that scent I’ve come to know simply as Marina: cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon.
She smells warm and inviting and tempting, like apple pie on a windowsill.
“Take a left up ahead,” she instructs Chloe, who holds up her thumb in response.
“Got it.”
Marina and I look at each other and grin. “She’s awesome,” Marina says quietly.
“I’m glad you think so,” I say. “I’m pretty in love with her myself. Have been since the day she was born.”
“I understand why.”
We amble for a bit and pass a pizza shop. The scents of tomatoes and basil practically slap me in the face, in the best of ways. Before I can mention it, Chloe turns back to us. “Man, the smells in Rome? Fire. Absolute fire.”
As time passes and I’m just about to suggest we turn back, Marina points straight ahead of us. Before she can say anything, I hear Chloe gasp.
“Are those the Spanish Steps?” she asks. “I read about them!” The excitement in her voice is obvious as she swoops up Reggie and picks up her pace. “Meet you there!” she calls over her shoulder, and zips toward the attraction.
Marina puts a hand on my arm before I can call any warnings to Chloe.
“She’ll be fine. She can’t really get lost there.
It’s just a big square. We’ll catch up.” Her hand slides down my arm and her fingers brush mine, but don’t grasp on.
“I want to hold your hand again, but I don’t want to cause any questions while Chloe is here. ”
I turn my eyes to hers, and I hope she can see my gratitude in them. “She leaves in two days,” I tell her.
Marina nods, and we keep walking.
The Spanish Steps are something to behold, which is strange to say, because they’re basically a big flight of stone steps in front of a fountain. But they’re also pretty much completely covered by people. Sitting, standing, climbing.
“Well, these are some busy steps,” I say, mostly to myself, but Marina hears me and laughs softly.
“It’s a huge attraction. Thousands of people a day pass through here.”
I turn to her. “How do you know so much about everything?” I say it with a bit of a chuckle. “Like, you’re a walking travel guide.”
Marina points to me. “Exactly.”
I squint at her.
“That has always been my goal.” Her expression grows serious as she looks off in the direction of the fountain, which is lit up and spewing water from stone sculptures I can’t make out.
She glances down at her shoes as she says, “I am always fascinated by the history of a place. I do research to find out everything I can. Sharing what I learn with others is something that brings me such joy.” She shakes her head as she gazes off into the middle distance, as if there aren’t hundreds of people milling about.
“My family doesn’t seem to understand that.
” Her eyes focus on me again, and I can see her face start to light up as she speaks.
“Whenever I go to a new place, I spend hours on the internet, learning everything I possibly can about the history of the city, the buildings, the people. I find the best attractions, both well-known and hidden. And I’m good at it. ”
She’s speaking with such passion, I can almost feel it coming off her in waves. This is something she truly cares about, it’s so obvious to me, and I suddenly understand the strife with her family. “And being stuck in the hotel would keep you from pursuing this passion of yours.”
She nods, and the shadow of sadness that passes across her face squeezes my heart.
“It’s why I love the food tour so much. Because my boss lets me work out the route myself.
I get to find little out-of-the-way places and introduce people to them and watch as they have the best day or trip or meal of their lives.
It…I can’t describe it. It’s such an honor to witness. ”
It’s official. I’ve never met anybody like Marina before.
Ever. I’m about to tell her so when I catch, out of the corner of my eye, frantic waving coming from the top of the Spanish Steps.
When I turn, I see Chloe, standing at the top, Reggie in one arm, and waving like a fiend with the other.
I start laughing and point her out to Marina, who joins me.
“Take a photo,” she instructs, and I pull out my phone and take several. “She’ll be glad to have those.”
“How many steps is that?” I ask absently, wondering if she’s exhausted and if she carried Reggie up.
“One hundred thirty-five,” Marina says without missing a beat. I turn to stare at her, and a beat goes by. Two. Then we both burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe you just…knew that off the top of your head.”
“I told you. It’s what I do.”
I shake my head with affection, then lean into her.
I don’t mean to. It’s not intentional. My body just kind of…
tips that way, and I feel Marina’s arm go around me, tightening, holding me close to her for a moment before she lets go.
I swear to God, if Chloe wasn’t here, it’s very possible I’d drag Marina back to my hotel room and have my way with her.
Part of me is bummed. Another part is relieved, thankful for the situation and for keeping me from doing something too spontaneous.
But damn.
We stand there for a long time—or at least what feels like a long time.
Just stand there, leaning into each other.
Anybody looking at us might not notice because we’re not holding hands.
We’re not kissing. We’re not even looking at each other.
But our bodies are touching. From our thighs up to our hips, our sides, my shoulder is pressed against her arm, and I would stay like this forever if I could.
I watch Chloe descend the steps carefully with Reggie in her arms—which I’m glad about, because there are so many people here.
She glances up every so often until she sees us, then returns her focus to her feet until she reaches the bottom.
Then she sidles through the crowds and finally reaches us.
Her eyes are bright and sparkling, and her smile is radiant.
“This place is amazing,” she says, and drops a kiss on Reggie’s head.
I expect her to hand him off to me, but she keeps possession.
“There’s too many people here to put him down,” she informs me.
“He could get stepped on. Plus, I think all the legs make him nervous. Can you imagine? You’re walking along, and suddenly all you see are long, tall legs?
Nothing else. How creepy and scary.” She kisses Reggie again, and my dog looks completely content to be carried like the prince he is.
We’re quiet for a moment before Chloe addresses Marina.
“Why are they called the Spanish Steps when they’re in Rome? Did Spain build them?”
Marina shakes her head. “No, they were built by Italians. They’re just named for the area.” She spins her finger in a circle. “This is the Piazza di Spagna—the Spanish Plaza. So…the Spanish Steps.”
“Well, that’s boring,” Chloe says, clearly hoping for something more action-packed.
“It really is,” Marina agrees with a sigh, and the two of them stand there, looking at the gorgeous Spanish Steps of Rome with twin looks of disappointment on their faces.
I manage not to bark out the laugh that wants to shoot from my mouth, because oh my God, they’re so much alike right now, it’s a little bit unnerving.
We spend a little bit more time just wandering. Chloe hands Reggie over to me so she can get some photos with her phone, and then she’s sending texts and smiling at the screen. When she finally slides it into her bag and looks at me with a big smile, I ask her if she’s ready to call it a night.
“Not really,” she says, then proceeds to yawn, which makes us all laugh.
“But clearly yes,” I say, and we head back the way we came, taking our time, in no hurry to leave one another’s company. The trip back to the hotel seems to take much less time than the walk to the Spanish Steps, and it’s my turn to be disappointed.
At the door of the Cavatassi, Marina turns to us. “I had so much fun tonight.”
“Me too,” Chloe says.
“Me three,” I add.
“Chloe, I don’t know that I’ll see you before you leave, but if I don’t, it was an honor and a privilege to meet you.” Before she can say anything more, Chloe wraps her in a hug, and because she’s so small, Marina has to bend. She stands, lifting Chloe off her feet and making her laugh.
“You’re super cool, Marina,” Chloe says. “I hope we meet again.”
Marina doesn’t say anything to me as she steps forward and wraps me in a hug as well. But in my ear, she whispers, “Text me.”
I nod and she lets go. “Be careful getting home, okay?” I say.
“Always.” She takes a couple of steps backward before she finally gives us a wave and turns to go. As is my normal behavior, I stand there and watch her go until she turns the corner and is out of my sight. A sigh escapes me before I can catch it.
“Wow,” Chloe says as she turns to the front door of the hotel and punches in the after-hours code to open it. “You’ve got it bad.”
“What?” My voice is about six octaves too high on that word, which kind of defeats my whole pretense of being insulted.
Chloe laughs. “Okay, Squeaky McSqueakerson. Deny it all you want. But I have eyes .” She waves a hand over and around her eyes to showcase them. “And they have seen things.” Then she laughs and laughs as we head for the elevator.
I shake my head and follow her, trying to deny the soft smile playing on my lips and the subtle heat in my cheeks, but I stay quiet, and I don’t deny anything.
Mostly because I can’t.