Chapter 39
ASHA
I snap my head around, heart pounding, and guiltily stand up, like I’m the one who’s underage and just got caught by my parents staying out past curfew.
“Peter. Brian. Hi.”
The fathers of the missing sixteen-years-olds glare at us.
“You two are out here sitting, having some sort of pleasant midnight chat when our children are in danger?” Brian fumes.
This wasn’t my best idea. I’m instantly flooded with regret for taking the break.
It’s not like walking into bars was that hard.
We should have pushed on. “We are looking for them. We’re only taking a quick break and checking if they’ve called us back.
We’ve already been to eleven bars, but no luck so far.
” My voice is high pitched and there’s a little quiver to it.
“This is your job and you need a break? When god knows what is happening to my daughter? I’m sure she would want to take a break, safe at home, instead of being out on the dangerous streets, scared and alone,” Peter says.
Right. Girl is probably making out with Jack in some dark corner of a bar, loving life and her travel romance. And this is Florence. It’s not exactly a hotbed of crime, unless you’re a purse or wallet, which is a problem in all tourist-heavy destinations.
“We’re doing our job and are concerned about your children.
But we’re doing everything we can and walking into random bars was a long shot to begin with.
We’re not the police and have no idea how to conduct a professional search.
We can call them for you, but that is the extent of our abilities.
The extent of our responsibilities,” Callum says, stepping in front of me.
It’s too late. I’m angrier at myself than these parents are at me. Because they’re only mad out of their worry and I get that. If yelling at us helps, then at least we helped a little. We haven’t been able to find their kids.
“Let’s get back to it.” Nothing is going to make these parents happier to have found us sitting on the job, so all we can do is move forward.
I try a reassuring smile, but that seems to anger the parents even more who maybe think I’m trying to make light of it.
My lips turn down in a worried frown that I hope they’ll appreciate more.
The men storm off, and I look helplessly at Callum. “This isn’t going well.”
“I’m still confused as to what we’re expected to do in this scenario. Let me call the carabinieri and be done with it. It’s literally their job to do this sort of thing. Or maybe, the parents could have just looked after their children.”
“I’ll bring it up to them again, but they didn’t think the police needed to be involved yet. I think it made it feel too real for them. But it’s better than it being on us at this point.”
We follow the men into bar after bar after club, the dads having refused to call the police. We have no luck. At two a.m, my phone lights up again and I look at it, expecting to be told that Bath & Body Works is having a sale on three-wick candles.
But it’s a text from a number I’ve called and texted numerous times tonight, saying, So. Hey.
The relief that floods through me is bigger than when Callum came into my room after our first night together. Sorry, Callum, but this is work.
I pull back from the group and call her, not wanting to get the dads’ hopes up until I know what’s happening. “Virginia, is it you? Are you safe? What do you need? Where are you?”
“God, I’m so sorry. I went out with Jack, and they didn’t ID us, and then time sort of got away from us. And then I looked my phone which was on silent and saw all the missed calls.” The poor girl sounds like she’s about to cry. “How mad is everyone?”
“Hey, no. Your parents are more worried than mad. They just want to know you’re safe. Do you want us to come get you? Do you need help? Where are you?”
I know I’m inundating her with questions, but I need to know all the answers at once.
“No. We’re on our way back. We’ll be at the hotel in fifteen minutes.”
“Great. Can you talk to your dad really quick? We’re out looking for you and he’s really worried.”
“Is Mom there, too?”
“No. She’s back at the hotel. But can you talk to your dad, please? I’m going to hand the phone over now.”
I put the phone down before she can answer, hoping for the best. “Peter. I’ve got Virginia on the phone.
She’s fine. Jack’s fine, too. They’re going to the hotel.
” I shove the phone at Peter before he can process, so relieved that this night is going to be over.
It’s one thing staying up late having fun with a happy or even an obnoxiously drunk group of people.
Less exciting when a child might be in danger and everyone is angry and scared.
“We did it!” I whisper to Callum.
“We did nothing. She’s fine, although probably a wee bit drunk, and getting herself to the hotel,” Callum says, and turns us all around toward said hotel.
“Hey, if we get blamed for the negative stuff we can’t control, I think we should get credit for the good things that also happen completely out of our control.”
“It doesn’t work that way at all.”
“I know, but a girl can dream.”
I try to keep talking to Callum to give the families some privacy on my phone, but I can still hear their conversation.
If I thought the chewing out we got for sitting down was intense, it’s nothing compared to what the kids are getting now.
At least everyone is safe to be yelled at and not in any sort of hospital situation.
Or a police situation. Or an embassy situation.
Back at the hotel, Jennifer and Louis are hugging their children in the lobby. Children who might be turning the slightest bit blue. I don’t know when the kids got back, but they look like they’ve been in these hugs for a while.
“I’m glad everyone is home safe and sound,” I say as the other parents get their hug.
“No thanks to you,” Peter mumbles.
Great. “I’ll have some chamomile tea sent up to your rooms, on the tour.” They could all use the calming properties. “Does anyone need anything else?”
After I get nos, Callum and I leave the family reunion and walk up the stairs to his room, stopping to order the tea from the front desk.
“I’m so glad that’s over.” The stress of the night and the more recent worry (now that the kids are safe) over how mad the parents are going to be at our lack of urgency over the situation (and what they’ll tell Rob) makes me collapse into bed right when we get inside.
“I want to sleep for a week.”
“We still have a city and a half to get through, Wee Sunshine. Pace yourself.”
“It’s too late. Go on without me, Rain Cloud. Tell tales of my bravery to those you encounter,” I mumble into the pillow.
“I don’t think it’s escalated to that just yet.
But your preference is noted.” Callum tugs my dress off with embarrassingly little help from me as I’m exploring life as a pillow.
He unclips my bra and then pulls a big T-shirt back over my head.
His, I assume. But I’m not lifting my head to confirm.
He could have found it at the hotel lost and found for all I know, or care.
He disappears to the bathroom, and then reappears, turning lights off. I do rouse myself to use the bathroom, because with my tiny bladder and my contacts, falling asleep without planning is not in the cards for me. Even if I am miserable.
I shuffle back into the room and cuddle up against Callum’s back, liking being the big spoon for once.
So much that when he tries to roll over, I straighten my arm to stop him.
I am jet-packing him and saving his arm’s blood flow whether he likes it or not.
I slip a leg through his and get comfortable on his back. Or try to.
It takes some pushing at his back until he’s at an optimal position (and a lot of unnecessary sighing on his part, if you ask me). Then I fall asleep, the second to last thought in my head regret that tonight I’m missing out on sex in our maybe limited time together.
But the exhaustion soon takes over, as well as the lulling warmth of Callum’s body.
“And here is the birthplace of the Renaissance!” I point to the bronze doors behind me.
Callum doesn’t let them soak it in before he launches into his speech.
“There was a competition between two goldsmiths, Lorenzo Ghiberti and Filipino Brunelleschi, to design the Duomo’s dome, and although there is some debate over if they both won or only one did, Ghiberti ended up doing the Baptistry doors with scenes from the Old Testament.
He had a new approach to depicting the human body and perspective, and the way he represented three-dimensional space, all of which became characteristic of the Renaissance, but he still had some late Gothic characteristics with his elongated figures and Gothic shapes. ”
I take over. “But don’t feel too bad about my man Brunelleschi, because he won that commission to do the dome behind you.
It was the largest dome at the time, the first octagonal dome built without a wooden supporting frame, and it was built without the flying buttresses we saw at Notre Dame.
He invented a lot of technology to do it, including a three-speed hoist, a special crane, and hand screws.
“And that’s the end of our tour. Now you have some time to enjoy Florence like a Medici, the famous and rich banking and governing family who provided the world with two popes.
Take a look at Callum’s lists for how to eat like a Medici, walk through their palaces, and see their art.
But please don’t poison anyone like a Medici.
And then we’ll meet you later for the leather demonstration. ”
With some dirty looks from the two sets of parents from last night, but happy looks from everyone else, the group leaves us.
“Want to lunch like a Medici?” I turn to Callum.
“I don’t know if I should take you up on that, after that poison comment.”
“You should be extra scared, because anything I do, I can just buy an indulgence from the Medici popes when we go to the Vatican and be forgiven for all.”
“I would research more on the current Catholic outlook on indulgences before you make any decisions based on it.”
“Nah. I’ll take my chances with my medieval knowledge.”
We find a restaurant that neither one of us has tried before and sit down. Before we can order, Callum’s phone rings.
“It’s Rob.” He holds up the phone so that I can see the name on the screen.
“Ahh.” My first instinct is to hide behind my wineglass and I lift it up in a sad attempt at avoiding reality.
Callum raises his eyebrows in judgment, which I can still see because the item I choose to hide behind is transparent, and answers the phone, putting it on speaker.
Great. This isn’t a coincidence after last night. He’s calling to yell at us.