+++
There were only a few empty seats as the plane began to take off. The flight attendant lead us to our seats in the back Rose dawdled behind, she hadn't been on a plane since she was a baby. There were a few men in suits, college students reading and tourist taking up the seats in front of us . I sat in the middle seat with Rose close to the aisle.The seat next to me remained empty.
Occasionally a few people would look back at Rose who was to preoccupied drawing to notice, I was glad she didn’t seem at all afraid.
I stayed awake as the plane began to ascend, I watched Rose to see if she was afraid but she was once again distracted by her drawing, and didn't even look up when the flight attendant attempted to make small talk with her. looked out the window as we rose above the city, getting closer and closer to the sky.
Once it was clear, I pulled out my laptop and stared at my half finished dissertation, I felt lost without my books or notes. I started searching for grammatical errors when I heard crying.
I instantly reached for Rose when I realized she hadn’t been crying.
A few seats up a boy a bit younger than Rose was standing in the aisle with tears streaming down his face. The child held his hands up to an older woman who quickly picked up her crying son and began to whisper to him. I watched as she stood up and walked in a circle around the tiny aisle balancing on her 4 inch heels till the child calmed down.
The mother caught my eye for a second and I offered a sympathetic smile which she returned before sitting back down.
I looked over at Rose’s drawing, it looked like she was drawing a house, there were very few colors in her drawings and the house appeared to be out of proportion which I suppose is normal for someone her age if not better. Although sometimes it frightened me how perceptive she could be.
“Stay here, I’m going to the restroom”, told her
She nodded and the flight attended was close by.
I locked the door behind me and even though I would have preferred not to be in the cramped quarters, it was better than nothing.
I took the time to adjust my make up. I’d given up on covering up my scars and instead put on an extra layer of lipstick to pull attention way from them. When that didn’t appear distracting enough I popped open a few buttons on my shirt and pressed cold water over my skin.
I had started to fiddle with my hair when the lights cut off.
Everything was pitch black and I reached for the door and began to pull on it but it wouldn’t give. I tried to take a few calm breaths before I overreacted. I started banging on the door and still it didn’t give.
“Help me”, I shouted
My voice came out as small I tried to speak but the air wasn't there.
The room was getting smaller, it was so dark. Everything was black the floor, the door and the walls. I started throwing my entire self on the door screaming for someone to help me. It was as if something was coming for me in the dark and I couldn't see it.
Tears began to stream down my eyes and I feared I was going to choke on them.
A tiny ray of light broke through the darkness; I pushed against it as the door slid open. I feel face first on to the hard floor a circle or people standing over me.
Two of the men in suits and the flight attendant starred down at me.
“It was so dark”, I explained
“It was the breaker”, the flight attendant explained while helping me up, I was shaking.
She helped me back to my seat and offered me a blanket. Rose was using Ann as a pillow and watched me pull myself together.
“I’m okay”, I told her
I pulled her into my lap and layed her head over my shoulder. I pushed her jet black hair over her ears revealing the diamond studs my mother just had to give her just a few months after she was born. The edge of my nails danced around the skin on her undefined jaw.
Her skin was pure white and very soft, I gently placed a finger over her lashes to close her large eyes. She wasn’t at all tired but closed her eyes anyway. Her eyes didn’t match her at all, they were that hideous sand color almost beige. I often imagined how much better they would look if they were a bright green, blue or brown.
I imagined my fingernails piercing her perfect skin, I imagined watching her bleed (just a little) and calling for me to make it all better. I imagined all the places I could start Here behind her eyes or--
“Here”, the flight attendant interrupted my thoughts and handed me a glass of white wine, “you looked like you could use this” .
I took my hand away from Rose and put her back in her seat.
“I don’t drink. But thank you”
As she walked off I looked back over at Rose and nervously began to file my fingernails.
I needed to get off this plane.
+++
“What am I doing ?”, I said to myself as I eyed the missed phone calls from work that were piling up on my cellphone.
I knew there were plenty of other instructors who could take over my classes last minute, but that was far from the reliable Clara I was supposed to be.
I turned off my phone, it was just a distraction as I attempted to juggle all of our (new) luggage and navigate Rose through the busy streets of Rome. It was tourist season in Rome and no one could escape it.
The minute we stepped out of the terminal there was a maze of people, cameras and shouting in all sorts of languages. Watching people, even complete strangers, enjoying a city I had spent so much of my life made me happy.
We had been walking for quite a bit since leaving the airport, the rustic architecture, statues and the intimacy of the city were, to me, a perfect setting. Unlike any American city I had been to.
When I finally saw Via Garibaldi , I didn’t think I would make it to the front door fast enough
“Rose we’re almost ther—“
I dropped all of my bags and did a quick double take when I realized she hadn’t been walking with me. I took a deep breathe and began to back track. At the corner of the next block she had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk holding out Ann at an arms lengths. A few people looked concern but didn't stop.
She looked at me as I approached.
“Where’s Ann”, she yelled at me
“She’s right there, come on—“
I grabbed her hand and attempted to pull here to where I'd left the luggage
She tore her hand out of my grasp and clutched the doll.
“No !”
Now people were starting to stare, so with two hands I began to drag her forceful down the street, hoping no one had taken our very expensive luggage. Unfortunately Rosalie was a fighter, she dug her heels into the ground and bit into my wrist tearing a gash in my skin.
"Shit", I cursed instantly regretting it.
I violently shoved her away causing the gash in my wrist to open, I heard her hit the ground and the doll fell into the street. Bystanders were walking faster and some where staring. I stood on the street contemplating what to do next when I heard Rose struggling to get up,I scrambled over to Rose apologizing loud enough for everyone to hear me.
Rosalie had pursed her lips together and stood with her arms folded, a cut had formed on the side of her face from hitting the ground. I remembered my terrible thoughts on the plane and wondered if I’d intentionally caused this.
“Need some help?”, a familiar voice said to me.
+++
The voice was followed by a comforting hand on my back. I turned, my gaze lingering on the man who seemed like a knight in shinning armor.
“Peter ?”, I said
For a moment I was lost in the strange turn of events that had reunited me with my ex-fiance. The look of concern on his face reminded me that my daughter (and I ) were bleeding on the sidewalk and calling way to much attention to ourselves.
I showed Peter where I had left the luggage and tried to cover the bleeding bite mark on my wrist. Rose and I walked a few steps behind Peter till he turned into the bustling Via Garibaldi Restaurant & Wine Bar.
A hostess hesitantly made her way over to us but when she realized who I was she offered a small wave. From the back of the restaurant my maternal grandparents moving at a quick pace for their age came toward us.
The Via Garibaldi Restaurant & Wine Bar had been in my mother's family's name for years. It was not only their home but their livelihood and had even withstood World War II. As I entered everyone seemed to be staring at me.
Mama Elena and Grandpa had only meet Rose once a few years ago, though you would never guess by the way they embraced her. They began showering her with compliments but given the language barrier I knew she didn’t understand them.
I excused myself from our quick reunion and dragged Rose to the bathroom to clean her cut. I rinsed my hand with cold water, knowing either way that it would leave a mark. Just what I needed another scar.
Rosalie's eyes were red from crying over the doll and I knelt down to her level, coming eye to eye with her.
"You have to apologize to me Rosalie"
"Why ?"
"Well, because you hurt me."
"But you lied to me, Mommy"
"No I didn't-", I sighed and reached for my lipstick. Could I even lie to her., "Just be on your best behavior."
Mama Elena had appeared at the door with a first aid kit and together we wrapped up my wrist and gave Rose a band aid that stood out against her skin more than I liked. My grandmother showered me with questions about how my mother was doing and about how big Rose had gotten.
It didn’t take much convincing for me to let Mama Elena show Rose off to all her friends in the restaurant while I wondered back over to Peter.
“Long time no see”, I said not quite sure what else to say.
“Same here”, he said
“Are you still mad at me. . I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have left like that”
“I wish I could say I understood.”
“What are you doing here anyway ?”, I asked playfully, “Doesn’t Genoa miss it’s prince?”
“Actually I haven’t been back to Genoa for a while now, I still live in our old apartment.”
I tensed a bit at the way he said “our”, my mother must have called him and told him I would be coming into town.
Peter and I took a seat by hostess station and watched as Mama Elena pulled Rose along from table to table of regulars introducing her Great-Granddaughter.
The Via Garibaldi Restaurant had been in my mother’s family for years, it had grown over the years to take up nearly half the block and had become a popular tourist spot. It was usually the locals who sat inside while visitors often liked to sit outside or on the two patios.
It was here almost 30 years ago that my parents first met. My mother had stopped in for a cup of coffee and to visit her parents around closing time. My father had been drinking till late in the night. She had gone over to tell him it was closing time and he recognized her from a film she had just finished
They had talked all night and been together ever since.
“I still can’t believe you’re a mother.”. Peter said
“I can’t either. . .sometimes.”
His profile was completely still, I couldn't tell if he was angry or just uncomfortable. his green eyes cut to me and I looked away.
“How long are you in town ?”, he asked
“I actually don’t know. . . thirty eight days, maybe”
"That's. . . along time. Let me at least help you get settled"
I took some of my luggage from Peter and he followed me to the back of the restaurant towards the upstairs apartments. For all the years the Romano Family had owned the restaurant they always lived upstairs even though their fortune permitted them to have so much more.
My mother truly came from modest people.
A set of creaky stairs lead to a hallway lined with 5 room and a living area at the end of the hall. I followed him into one of the smaller bedrooms. Once the door closed behind me I realized how nice the silence was, it was the first time since leaving my parent's home that I had been away from Rose for this long.
+2+
I made myself busy by putting things away, Peter silently watching me. He looked exactly as he had 3 years ago when he had helped me move to Italy.There was less concern though.
My movements became idle, I was just walking around now. I felt him mirroring me till he stopped behind me.
"I know you want to ask me.", I said
He stepped from behind me so we were facing each other
“Are you ready now ?”
“I think so.”
There was a silent beat before the space closed between us and his mouth was pressed against mine. He pulled me further into his embrace, not even the sounds of Mama Elena and Rose descending the steps broke our kiss.
+++
It was the nightmare’s I couldn’t handle back then.
Though I was home and knew I was safe my nightmares of that house, his eyes and the darkness became my undoing
Every time I closed my eyes I saw my grandfather’s body in my grasp, he didn’t look like himself but I saw him moving and talking.
He looked like a monster and I still wanted to hold and love him because he was my grandfather. I wanted to hear him call me Clarabelle again and for us to play a duet in his quiet house.
But he wouldn’t wake up.
I had tried to protect him and still he wouldn't wake up.
That was the nightmare I had every day when I first came home. Every where I went reminded me of him. Father refused to have a funeral not that I would have gone. Instead I spent days just hiding behind my bandages.
I sat in my room writing music and dreading the night, I kept forgetting how much I missed out on being away for so long and was losing track of all the lies I was telling.
I wanted more than anything to get out and the next best thing was my home away from home on Via Girbaldi
The only person I told about my choice to move to Italy was my mother, she understood that I hadn’t been myself in a while and hoped that leaving would get her daughter back.
I packed up my entire life intent on never spending a night in the house that I was taken from.
When I arrived at Da Vinici airport in February I was still covered in bandages and was surprised that Peter even recognized me. It was still difficult for me to talk with the bandages on my lips and found myself relying on gestures to really communicate with him.
We had walked arm and arm like a normal couple along the streets of Rome when it began to get dark I wanted to go inside but he insisted we do a little sightseeing and as a regular visitor I knew there was nothing more beautiful than Rome at night.
When we made it back to my hotel I asked him to stay and help me look for an apartment in the city. It was getting late and I was beyond anxious about Peter leaving. I was suddenly terrified of being alone. Sleeping alone was what had caused all my problems in the first place.
“I’ll stay”, he said before I even asked.
The nights never did get easier. In my dreams I was always afraid of waking up someplace else.. . of being alone.
I overindulged and put my entire savings in a beautiful WWII refurbished apartment overlooking the Tiber, something about being near the water kept me calm. It reminded me where I was and kept me sane
I of course couldn’t afford a place like that on my own, so I asked Peter to move in with me.
Though we were both more than capable of making our own decisions, I sensed we didn’t tell our parents about our living arrangement for the same reason.
Still, the nightmares didn’t stop and it was not just Grandfather’s body I was seeing. Peter was always there to wake me up and to keep me somewhat grounded.
It wasn’t long before I felt the need to reciprocate the kindness he had shown me. I cooked, cleaned and did the best I could while on strict doctor's orders not to work. At night we would sit on the couch and write music together.
Sometimes I would just wander around the city looking for someplace to just hear my own music and then play it when I got back home.
I didn’t want to believe I was falling in love again, but I was. Could fickle hearts be genetic?
One night I found myself in his arms much in the same way I did now, though then it was more at my doing.
He honestly cared about me and I felt the same towards him but for some reason it was tearing me up inside.
“I can’t”, I had told him
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“Yes you are”, I had said kissing the side of his face “and I’m asking myself for something . . . and it’s just too soon.”
“We’ve know each other for years.”
“No, I still need time to. . .grieve.”, I'd said without thinking.
My grief then began to cause me physical pain and I felt as if I were ready to cry again. I sat at the table staring at my entwined hands. At some point he had left a glass of my favorite wine by my bedside and it made me smile.
However as my life seemed to be set, I knew all good things would come to an end and I did eventually have to leave him.
I never though I would get a second chance
Till now.