A/N: I really did my best to keep this chapter under 15K words. It was seriously beginning to get away from me XD
Enjoy!
Extra note: A few reviews for last chapter commented on Elizabeta's lack of romantic interaction with Vash. I just wanted to make it clear that not every chapter will be romantic. Many will be purely platonic actually. Just letting you guys know ;3
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Merlot
Spain:
Day 40 - 46
June 13th
Dear Roderich,
Greetings from the Canary Islands! Everything here is beautiful but also extremely crowded so I'm not sure how much you would like it. Gilbert's house, well villa actually, is on Tenerife—that's the biggest of the islands. We're right on the coast and the view is amazing. So far things have been more eventful than I could have imagined. I had a minor accident but I'm alright now so no need to worry. Gilbert and I have made a new friend who's been taking us on a wonderful tour around some of the bigger islands. When I finally print them out, I'll send you lots of pictures! I can't wait to hear all the pieces you brought from the music festival!
-Elizabeta
p.s.- Beethoven was German :P
Elizabeta tapped a filed nail against the side of the large boat. It was a brand new speed boat, fully equipped with a variety of supposedly impressive features that she didn't care to remember. She sighed. The salesman had been going on for what seemed like ages but she had stopped paying attention after the first few minutes. Gilbert was hanging on every word the man said, more engaged and focused than normal. The fact that the salesman was tan, fit and very handsome was probably one of the contributing factors. At that moment, she wasn't in the mood to compete with Gilbert so she had barely looked at the salesman after the initial introduction. Her mind was in other places, on other people…
"So, Liz, what do you think?"
Elizabeta looked up to see both Gilbert and the salesman staring at her eagerly.
"Huh? Think about what?" she asked, not bothering to hide the fact that she hadn't been listening to anything either of them had said up to this point.
"The boat of course," Gilbert said impatiently. "What do you think about it?"
Oh, the boat. What did she think about the boat? She thought absolutely nothing about the boat. She didn't understand why it was even necessary to buy the boat. She very much wanted to say to hell with the boat but she had promised Gilbert that she wouldn't complain and that she would try to enjoy herself. He had put up with her on her so far fruitless journey, even when they were in mortal danger. She owed him at least two weeks of fun.
"I like it," she lied. "You should buy it."
The salesman grinned widely and turned back to Gilbert. "I think the words of a pretty lady should be more than enough to convinc—"
"I don't want it," Gilbert said.
Elizabeta held back a groan and the salesman's grin faltered.
"If I was anyone else it would be perfect, but, for me, it's just not at that level of sheer awesome," Gilbert said matter-of-factly.
"Are you looking for something faster?" the salesman asked quickly. "Because we have much faster."
Gilbert shook his head. "It's not the speed, but the boat overall. It will have a certain, I don't know…aura."
Elizabeta raised an eyebrow. The salesman looked completely lost.
"Aura, sir?" he asked.
"I can't explain it," Gilbert said, "but I'll know it when I see it and this isn't it. Trust me. So what else do you have?"
"Let me check our computer database. I might be able to find what you're looking for at one of our other marinas." The salesman said before hurrying off.
Elizabeta crossed her arms and leaned against the rejected boat. It swayed beneath her and, thinking better of it, she stood straight up. "I don't understand why this is such a challenge for you. How hard is it to find a good boat? Just what in the world are you looking for?"
Gilbert thought for a second before he answered, "Something that when people look at they think, 'Yep, that's a boat Gilbert Beilschmidt would drive'."
"I have no clue what that means but this doesn't?" Elizabeta asked, pointing to the boat after her. "Or the ten others we've seen today?"
"Nope. They say, "This is the type of boat someone who wishes he was Gilbert Beilschmidt would drive'."
Elizabeta sighed again. "You're hopeless. This is the third marina we've been to today. Can you please just pick something?"
"Is that complaining I hear Elizabeta? I thought we weren't going to be having any of that."
Elizabeta bit her lip, feeling like a scolded child. "Sorry. I'm just tired and it's too hot out." She thought that perhaps it had been unwise to visit southern Spain in the middle of June.
Gilbert spread out his arms. "Well there's plenty of water around. Feel free to jump in anytime."
"Thanks," Elizabeta said as she looked down at the algae that floated on top of the blue-green water that surrounded the marina," but no thanks. So, when you find this super special boat, what are you going to name her?"
"Not sure. I haven't thought about it yet."
"How about Elizabeta?" she said sweetly.
"How about in your dreams?" Gilbert replied just as sweetly.
Elizabeta pouted. "It was just a suggestion. You might as well name it after yourself."
"That's not a bad idea actually."
"Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?"
"The heat is making you extra bitchy as well. If you really want, you can go back to the house. Honestly, you're pretty much useless at this. I can't believe you didn't even know the difference between a speed boat and a sailboat. How sad."
Elizabeta put her hands on her hips. "Well excuse me for not having rich parents who throw away money on stupid boats!" she snapped. "I only came along for moral support but I guess if you don't need me…"
At that moment, the salesman came back from his office with a stack of papers clutched in his hand.
"I think, Mr. Beilschmidt, what you are looking for might be among these." He handed the papers to Gilbert who flipped through them quickly. "As I thought, some of them are at our other marinas."
Gilbert looked up from the papers, a sly smile on his face. "First off, I already told you to call me Gilbert. Second, how about we go to your office and review these together?" He turned to Elizabeta. "You can go now, Liz. Like I said, you're kind of useless at this."
Elizabeta narrowed her eyes at him. She knew exactly why he wanted her out of his way and it had nothing to do with her lack of knowledge regarding watercraft vessels. She wasn't about to start protesting though. She had had enough of following Gilbert around for one day.
"Fine. I'll see you back at the house," she said, turning back towards the entrance of the marina. "Have fun."
"I will," Gilbert called giddily after her.
When Elizabeta arrived back at where their rental car was parked, she found the driver leaning against the front bumper smoking. He straightened up when he saw her and was about to throw the cigarette to the ground but she stopped him.
"You don't have to do that," she said. "Actually, do you have another one of those?"
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the box of cigarettes. He handed her one and then lit it with a rusty lighter.
"Thanks," she said before inhaling deeply. She broke into a coughing fit immediately after.
"Not your type?" the man asked, smirking.
Elizabeta grimaced. "I don't smoke often. I don't really like doing it," she said shortly, which was exactly why she hadn't asked Gilbert for a cigarette. She was supposed to be the better of the two and she wasn't in the mood for his teasing.
"Rough day?" the driver asked.
"Mostly just tiring. And it's too hot."
"Welcome to Tenerife. It's even worse in July."
Elizabeta exhaled a cloud of light gray smoke. "Do you work then too?" she asked.
The driver nodded. "Of course."
"How can you stand it, the heat?"
He shrugged. "Good weather means more rich tourists," he said simply. He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with his foot. "Is there anywhere else you would like to go today?"
"No, you can take me back to the house. Sorry for dragging you around everywhere today," she said sheepishly.
The driver shrugged again. "It's my job. I don't mind if you smoke in the car but leave the windows open." He got back into the car and started up the engine.
"No problem," Elizabeta said, sliding into the backseat.
"And we can take the scenic route, if you would like that," the driver said as they pulled away from the marina.
Elizabeta leaned against the seat and took another drag from the cigarette. "I would like that," she said. "Thank you."
.
.
.
When the driver pulled up to the villa, Elizabeta thanked him again and purposely overpaid him. She stepped out of the car before he could say anything and made her way slowly to the large gated house that seemed to grand to belong to her best friend. By now, she should have been accustomed to these expensive houses, mansions really, but she had still let out a little gasp of surprise when she had first seen where she would be living for the next two weeks. Situated on the coast, overlooking the ocean, the seven bedroom villa was luxurious, but classic, designed to look simple and comfortable, lacking the typical giant chandeliers, grand staircases with gold railings and intimidating priceless statues around every corner. She felt much less overwhelmed in it than when she visited Gilbert's house in Berlin.
Of all the rooms to choose from, she had taken one of the two eastern facing rooms that offered a breathtaking view of the Adeje coastline. Scattered along the seemingly endless beach were various resorts whose guests spend countless hours lying out in the sun or swimming in the beautiful blue water. She had yet to go down to the beach, partially because being among so many people would only tire her out further and because the last time she had been to the ocean had been in Palermo and the last thing she needed were more painful reminders of that city.
Elizabeta leaned against the railing that encircled the balcony just outside her room and suddenly wished that she was back at camp. She missed the silence and solitude of nature. She even missed the girls. Being once more in a crowded city was only giving her a headache and, because of her promise to Gilbert, she had no plans for Spain. She wasn't there to look for love or adventure. For the next two weeks she was just another tourist so she would have to do as tourists do. She left the balcony and went down to the pool.
Gilbert found her half asleep on one of the pool deck chairs an hour later. After shaking her awake, he proceeded to tell her that she was an idiot to lie out in the sun like that and would probably die from both heatstroke and skin cancer. Then, he proudly informed her that he was now the owner of a brand new Sunseeker 37 meter yacht.
"You bought a yacht?" Elizabeta exclaimed. Even she was familiar with the Sunseeker name and knew enough to know their boats were far from cheap. "You were supposed to buy something simple!"
Gilbert ignored this comment and sat down on the chair next to her's. "As soon as I saw it I knew it was the right one for me. It's a triple-decker with five cabins that can hold up to twelve people. It has a Twin MTU 4000 V12 engine and can reach a max speed of 48 kph. And it's got satellite TV and surround sound and even iPod docking! Fucking awesome, right?"
"Gilbert, I don't care about the damn details! How much did this thing even cost?" Elizabeta asked. He told her and her mouth fell open.
"…your brother is going to kill you," she whispered. "I'm going to kill you! Where did you get that much money and how could you throw it all away on a yacht?"
"Stop screaming and calm down," Gilbert said. "It turns out the owner of the marina is an old friend of my grandfathers and sold him all of his boats. So, in his honor, he gave me a great deal. Not only did he slash the original price by 70% but he also set me up with this awesome monthly payment plan. Isn't that great?"
Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's sounds absolutely amazing," she said dryly.
"Just another reason why it's so awesome to be me," Gilbert said smugly.
"Ludwig is still going to kill you. Even with the price cut and payment plans that yacht is way out of your price range. You've practically thrown away your whole inheritance! What are we going to live on for the next five months?"
Gilbert shrugged. "West won't see the charges for at least another week. I'll deal with him then. As for our current financial situation, you're forgetting that, along with the money my grandfather left me, I also own 2% of a multi-billion dollar corporation and the 2nd quarter profits are being released in a few weeks. Considering how well sales have been recently, I don't doubt that it's going to be an epic pay day when the first check comes in. It's taken long enough." He flashed her a thumbs up. "We're going to be A-OK!"
Elizabeta gave him a look of disgust. "Wow, it must great to be able to solve all of your fuck ups with money."
"It makes the world go round, Liz. And why so bitter? I said we're going to be fine."
"I'm 'bitter' because there was no reason for us to end up in this situation in the first place if you had just been responsible and not overindulgent, for once!" she snapped.
"Well it is my money and I can do whatever the hell I want with it," Gilbert shot back. "I'm here with you because I'm your friend. I don't have to help you fund this stupid trip."
"Then don't!" Elizabeta said angrily. "I never asked you to."
"No, you asked my brother to. Behind my back," Gilbert said accusingly.
"I did not! He suggested it and I accepted and I told you about it afterwards."
"When everything was already said and done."
"You don't have to come along with me if you don't want to, Gilbert. This was supposed to be a solo trip in the first place. I spent years responsibly saving my money and I'll be fine without you and your endless millions!"
Gilbert stood up from the chair. "You know what? Fuck this. It's the weather that is obviously making you act like a crazy bitch. I'm going inside. Let me know when you've cooled down." He headed back towards the house. He paused at the sliding glass door and turned around. "Oh yeah, and I'm having a party tonight on the yacht. Since you clearly don't approve of it I'm just going to assume that you don't want to come."
"You're right, I don't!" Elizabeta yelled back.
"You would have ruined the night anyway!" Gilbert yelled and then went inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Damn idiot," Elizabeta muttered darkly to herself. "He has no self control and always thinks he can do whatever he wants because he has money coming out of his ears. I should have just left him in Berlin." She had no clue why she had gotten so angry but she did know that she was tired of Gilbert always bending the rules in his favor. She hated his selfish attitude and was suddenly furious at him for making her promise not to look for love in Spain. This trip was for her. It had been her idea and was the result of months of her own planning. She had put almost all of her hard earned money into the trip and, even with Gilbert's extra money, had tried to spend it wisely. She was the one Gilbert was supposed to have been following all day, not the other way around. Her problems were supposed to be their focus. They had spent their first day on Tenerife barhopping, wasting money at tourist traps and she had even stupidly let Gilbert coax her into going to a spa and getting a manicure. Now, she glared at her perfectly filed and lightly painted nails. She was not traveling around the world for cosmetic beauty treatments. She remembered how, right before he had made her promise to only have fun in Spain, Gilbert had complained about her habit of ditching him.
"I don't want another situation where you run off and I get left behind," he had said bitterly.
She had apologized for her behavior then but now regretted giving in so easily. What did he expect? He should have known what he was getting into when he invited himself along. Now, if he was angry enough to pack up and go home after what she had just said to him then she would be happy to have him out of her way. He was only slowing her down.
Elizabeta sighed and took off her sunglasses. She leaned back against the deck chair and at that moment, she was overcome by guilt for both her thoughts and actions. Gilbert was not only her friend, but her best friend. If it wasn't for him then, by now, she might have been, if not dead, then extremely discouraged, perhaps she might have even already given up on her journey. He had supported her—even if grudgingly at times—throughout. That was almost eight weeks. She had given him only two days before throwing everything he had done for her back in his face. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. Yes, Gilbert was selfish, but she was turning out to be much worse.
It was suddenly too hot for her to lie there in the sun a second longer and the pool was looking extremely tempting. Before she could talk herself out of it, she kicked off her shoes and took a running leap into the cool water, still fully clothed. She swam to the end of the pool and pulled herself onto the hot deck, feeling both refreshed and clear-headed. She then got to her feet and went inside, still dripping wet, to find Gilbert and tell him that she would attend his party.
She would apologize again too.
The yacht lurched beneath her feet and Elizabeta had to grab onto the bar top to keep from falling over and spilling the champagne in her hands. The man she had been trying to get away from for the past ten minutes wasn't as fortunate and spilled his drink on the front of his jacket.
"Someone needs to tell the Captain to be more careful," he grumbled. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and dabbed at the stain. His name was Justin. Or maybe it was Jack. Elizabeta had already forgotten. He was the son of some famous bank owner and was interning at an equally famous multi-facet corporation in Madrid that she had never heard of but apparently was supposed to so she had nodded and forced a smile when he told her this. He was visiting Tenerife for a few days and fully enjoying it's great sights, alcohol and women. When he had finally, and surprisingly, stopped talking about himself and asked what she was doing on the island she said she was a simple tourist traveling with her boyfriend. The last bit had been meant to deter him but, if anything, it only made him flirt more. So far, she hadn't had a chance to politely escape but now she saw the opportunity that he of all people had given her and grabbed it.
She set her drink down on the bar. "Yes, you're right. Someone should go tell him. I think I'll do it. Be back in a bit!" Before Justin/Jack could say anything, she was gone, pushing though the tight crowds in search of Gilbert. She found him in the wheelhouse surrounded by a small group of people, a sailor's cap perched sideways on his head and a half-empty bottle of beer in his hands.
"Hey, Captain," she said when she reached him, "can you try being a little gentler with that thing before you toss us all overboard?"
"Look guys, it's my First Mate!" Gilbert said, laughing. The people around him, all just as intoxicated, joined in.
"I'm serious Gilbert. Be careful," Elizabeta warned.
"Yes sir, First Mate Hédeváry, sir," Gilbert said, giving her a drunken salute. Everyone laughed harder.
Elizabeta gave him a tight smile. "And try not to get too wasted, okay?"
"You worry too much, Liz. I'm…I'm peachy perfect," he said grinning.
"I can see that," she muttered. If this had been any other time she might have forcibly removed him from his Captain's chair, but she was supposed to be on her best behavior; she was supposed to be having fun. So she held back her disproving comments and headed for the stairs.
Deciding to avoid the lower levels for the time being, she went up to the top deck where it was only slightly less crowded. There were far too many people on the yacht. She had no idea where Gilbert had found all of them. Handsome men in vests and two-piece suits and women in bright cocktail dresses swarmed around, most likely all worth 100x more than her and not afraid to show it. They assumed that she was one of them and treated her as such. She wondered what Justin/Jack would say or what any of them would say if they knew that she didn't spend her weekends watching polo matches or attending benefit dinners or that the designer dress she was wearing had been given to her as a gift by a woman whose life she had ruined. Despite her protests, the day she had gone shopping with Luciana, on their way out the door following their purchase of her dress for the party, Luciana had spotted and insisted on buying the more casual dark green dress as well, saying that Elizabeta would need it, even if she didn't think so at the moment. Elizabeta had fully intended to return the dress at a later point, but after the horrible party, hadn't had the chance to before leaving Palermo. The dress had lay at the bottom of her suitcase since then. She had worn it that night because it was the only thing she had to fit Gilbert's dress code of 'semi-formal' although, just looking at it had made her ill. She felt even worse now and went to the edge of the boat, afraid she was going to be sick. She gripped the railing encircling the deck tightly and stared out at the endless sea of dark water that stretched before her, taking deep breaths. In the distance she could see other large boats gliding over the water, their bright lights like a beacon in the darkness.
She heard a sharp scream from below and leaned over the railing to see a girl on the lower deck being dangled over the edge of the yacht. Two other people who Elizabeta assumed were her friends held her by her arms and swung her back and forth over the water while she simultaneously screeched and laughed in delight. With the three glasses of champagne she had drunk earlier acting as liquid courage, Elizabeta stepped up onto the railing so that she could see better and so that she could yell down to the people that they were being complete idiots for doing something so dangerous. She nearly fell forward when someone bumped into her from behind. She turned around to tell them to watch where they were going when the yacht pitched violently forward, again, and she lost her grip on the railing and fell over the edge, too shocked to even scream.
Right before she hit the water, she felt a sharp pain in her head and everything suddenly went black. Then she felt the coldness of the water and knew that she was sinking. She struggled to move, to kick towards the surface, but her arms and legs weren't responding and she could still see nothing except darkness. Her body was screaming for air but she was only sinking faster. Her last thought before she passed out was that she was going to kill Gilbert for this.
She dreamed that she was being lifted out of a sea of dark water and was carried, still and unmoving, to a boat. She was laid down gently on the deck and then someone was kissing her, breathing into her and she gasped, as if offended by such a forward action and her eyes flew open briefly. In her dream her rescuer had bright green eyes and, if it was possible in her state of unconsciousness, her heart jumped because those eyes looked so familiar and though she would never admit it awake, she wanted it to be him so much it hurt but then everything faded to black once more. It was strange, but she suddenly heard Gilbert's voice. He sounded frantic and scared and she wanted to ask what he was doing in her dream but then she knew no more and the next time she opened her eyes it was morning and she knew she was awake because she had a splitting headache and could feel every little ache in her body.
Groaning, she sat up and realized that she was in her bed at the villa and wondered how she had gotten there. Her last memory was of boats drifting across the dark water. No. Her last memory was of a pair of bright green eyes…
Elizabeta flung off the bedcovers and gasped when she saw that underneath she was only in her underwear. She no recollection of taking her clothes off either and, with a feeling of rising dread, wondered what exactly had gone on the night before. She grabbed the robe next to her bed and hurried downstairs, hoping that she hadn't done anything too embarrassing.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" she called when she got to the ground floor.
She turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Gilbert step out of the kitchen, his face making it clear that he was surprised to see her.
"Elizabeta! You're awake!" he said happily. "And not paralyzed!"
"Yes I—why would I be paralyzed? Wait, don't answer that yet. First, I need you to tell me what happened last night? My head hurts and I ache all over but I can barely remember anything after coming to see you. Did I drink too much and do something stupid? Is that why I'm only wearing my underwear?" She suddenly remembered something else and blushed. "And—and I had the strangest dream. In it someone rescued me and then, and then they kissed me. It all seemed so real and they had these lovely green eyes and I thought…well, I thought it was…" she trailed off, not sure she wanted to admit who she thought it had been although, now Gilbert's look had changed from happy to extremely curious and she knew he would pester her until she told him.
She was saved from having to answer by the sound of someone coming down the stairs. She turned around to see a dark-haired man descending the spiral staircase. When he reached the landing he gave her a bright white smile but it was his green eyes that she was looking at.
"It's nice to see that you're awake," he said in English. She noticed he had a light Spanish accent. "How are you feeling?"
Elizabeta raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry but do I know you?" she asked bluntly. She hoped he wasn't who Gilbert had brought home from the party. She couldn't help but notice that he was very handsome, which only further supported her assumptions. That morning she was in no mood to deal with another of her best friend's one night stands.
"Wow Liz, way to be completely rude to the guy who saved you life," Gilbert muttered.
Elizabeta gasped. "Really? You did? I'm sorry; I can barely remember anything from last night. What happened?" She was beginning to think that her dream hadn't really been a dream.
"You fell off the boat and would have drowned if Antonio hadn't jumped in after you," Gilbert answered.
"I saw when you hit your head and knew something was wrong when you didn't immediately come back up," the man, Antonio, said. "I got you back on the boat and was able to revive you there."
"Afterwards, he said you would be fine, but I still asked him to stay the night just in case you ended up paralyzed," Gilbert said proudly, as if his had been the smartest decision.
Internally, Elizabeta was reeling. She didn't remember any of this except as an all too vivid dream. Absentmindedly, she wondered if she was cursed. In Palermo, she had fallen off a building into a river. In Austria, she had been shoved by Gilbert off the dock into Lake Constance. At camp, a canoe had sunk from beneath her. And now she had apparently fallen off a boat and been rescued by a handsome stranger. Perhaps a higher power was trying to tell her something—perhaps to stay away from water? She wished they would try a less subtle message.
"So that was you, you were the one who kissed me," Elizabeta said softly, disappointedly, without thinking.
Gilbert snickered. "I think that knock on the head affected you more than we thought. Your social skills are way off today. It was just CPR Liz."
"Well another name for it is the kiss of life," Antonio said brightly. "And if I was going to give it to anyone, I'm glad it was you."
Elizabeta felt herself blush. "Thank you so much, n-not just for the CPR but jumping in the water after me. True, I can barely remember it, but I'm eternally grateful for what you did. If there's anything I can do to repay you…"
Antonio made a dismissing gesture. "It was no problem. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"Well we can't let you go just like that…I know, have lunch with us! Then you can tell me everything. I'll think of some way to thank you properly afterwards," Elizabeta said. "Please?"
"I have to second her proposal," Gilbert said. "And that dive you did off the boat was too awesome. You have to tell me where you learned that."
Antonio looked thoughtful for a second but then answered, "I don't have any plans for the day so why not?"
"Great!" Elizabeta said. "Let me get dressed and we can go. Actually, I have one more question. Who undressed me?"
"That would be me," Gilbert said.
"I thought so," Elizabeta said before punching him in the stomach. Gilbert groaned and fell to his knees and Elizabeta hurried back up the stairs. "Pervert," she said over her shoulder.
.
.
.
They ended up at a tourist trap, sitting outside under a large white plastic umbrella sipping overpriced fruity drinks. Next to them sat a group of Americans all wearing bright, tropical shirts and khaki shorts talking loudly about how charming the locals were. One of them was thumbing through a Portuguese-English dictionary.
"Sorry for the poor choice of venue. This is only our third day here and we haven't had a chance to do much exploring," Elizabeta said as she closed her menu. The cheapest thing on it still made her eyes widen so she had decided that she would just wait until they got back to the villa to eat. The last thing she wanted to do now was spend any more money when there was no guarantee there was anything left to spend. "I was hoping to find somewhere more authentic…and cheaper."
"I doubt you'll find a place like that here," Antonio said. "Tenerife is one of the major tourist destinations in the world."
"I could tell," she said, eyeing the other people around them.
A middle-aged British couple sat down at the table across from them.
"We should demand a refund for our hotel room. I specifically asked for a western facing room so that I wouldn't be disturbed by the sun. And our neighbors are much too loud. What in the world do you think they're doing over there? Don't answer that. They are newlyweds after all," the woman said. She wrinkled her nose. "Disgusting."
The man didn't seem to hear her but the woman continued on.
"And I cannot believe that we don't have our own private beach even though it was one of the features advertised on the website. I absolutely cannot enjoy a relaxing afternoon in the sun unless it's a private setting. I told you that we should have rented one of those charming villas instead of staying at a hotel. You never listen to me. What does this place even have to eat? You know local food makes me ill. And it's too hot today. I cannot believe I left my hat in the room. I suppose I'll have to buy a new one along with new bed sheets. Did you see the look of the room service? They won't clean a thing. Perhaps we should just go home. I don't think I can stand another week here."
The man finally looked up, his face almost hopeful, but then the woman shook her head, her wavy blond hair flying around her face.
"I'll have to get through it, somehow. But I am requesting a room change as soon as we get back to the hotel."
The man's shoulders fell and he turned back to his menu. "Whatever you say dear," he murmured.
Elizabeta caught Antonio's eye, wondering if he had seen this exchange as well and they both smiled.
"I can't decide what I want," Gilbert moaned. "It all looks too…"
"Expensive?" Elizabeta offered.
"Delicious," Gilbert finished. He sighed heavily. "I feel like I'm back in Venice."
Elizabeta smiled. "You're right. I could really use Feliciano's advice right now. It's a shame that there's no risotto here. We were in Italy a few weeks ago," she said in response to Antonio's questioning look, "and we went on an impromptu food tasting spree with a friend in search of my 'true food'. It was all very fun." She remembered how happy and simple everything had been then. Nostalgia could be such a bittersweet friend.
"It sounds like you've been doing some traveling," Antonio said.
Elizabeta nodded. "I'm sort of on a journey around the world." She hoped Antonio wouldn't ask what type of journey.
Instead he only nodded. "I'm sort of on one too," he said.
"If you don't mind me asking," Elizabeta said, suddenly curious, "but what brings you to Tenerife? Are you from here?" He had obviously been at the party and everyone whom she had spoken to had been either on the Islands for business or on holiday.
"No, I'm from Barcelona but this is actually my first time back in Spain in over ten years. I only came back here for work."
"Where have you been until now?" Elizabeta knew she was being nosy but couldn't help herself. She was suddenly hit by a wave of déjà vu. This is how it had started in Venice, with a kind stranger, a dinner invitation and she being too curious for her own good. Except this time it was lunch and she didn't plan on asking if Antonio had any brothers.
"All over the place. I spent two years in Italy, three in Paris, one year in Vermont—that's in America—another year in South Africa, six months in Tokyo and I've spent the last three years in London."
"That's amazing!" Elizabeta said. "You've been all over the world! What have you been doing in all those places?" She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, ashamed of her overeager and curious nature. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that. I didn't mean to pry."
Antonio shook his head. "It's fine, really. I don't mind telling, it's fun for me to do so. All the places I've visited boast having some of the best culinary schools in the world and I wanted to see if this was true."
"Amazing," Elizabeta said again. "So you're world-class chef?"
Antonio laughed. "A wannabe chef, actually. My goal in life is to open my own restaurant, which is why I'm back in Spain."
"But why the Canary Islands?"
"Because of what you said earlier. These islands are full of overpriced tourist traps and I think people would enjoy being able to go to a place where the price of a meal doesn't rival their already ridiculous hotel bills."
Elizabeta nodded. "I understand what you mean and I agree with you 100%. Have you made much progress?"
Antonio's bright smile dimmed as he shook his head. "Honestly, no. The property I'm looking into is very much out of my price range and most of the money I make these days goes towards my rent. Everything seemed so simple on paper but it's much more complicated than I could have ever imagined." He smiled wider and his face grew once more optimistic. "But I'm not giving up. Things may be hard now but I'm confident that I will be successful and that I'll one day be able to bring the taste of the world to Tenerife. "
His words caught Elizabeta by surprise because they were so familiar. Everyone wanted to be successful, but Vivianne had been right, you couldn't just want it, you had to do whatever you could to achieve it. Antonio had spent the past 10 years doing just that. Unfortunately, she didn't have such a luxury. She had less than five months left. Time was running out and she needed to make the most out of every second, not counting the next week and a half of course. However, this didn't mean that she couldn't plan or strategize. Love was a battlefield after all, and she had to be properly prepared lest she risk another repetition of Palermo.
"I wish you the best, Antonio," she said. "In my own way, I know what you're going through. Things haven't gone as smoothly as I had hoped but I'm confident about the future."
"I'm glad to hear that," Antonio said. He smiled and she smiled back because he made it impossible not to.
He then held up his menu. "So have you decided what you want?"
"To eat? No, I'm not getting anything here. I'll just wait until I get back to the villa." She sighed. "If it wasn't for the fact that Gilbert owns property here we wouldn't even have come to the Canaries. This isn't where I imagined I would be when I was planning my stay here. I mean Tenerife is lovely, but I was looking forward to seeing 'real' Spain."
Antonio laughed. "I'm a little confused, what's 'real' Spain?"
"You know, Madrid, Barcelona, Seville, Valencia…places where there isn't a resort on every corner."
"There are thirteen Canary Islands. Tenerife is only one. What's stopping you from visiting the others?"
Elizabeta quickly glanced over at Gilbert, who was still pouring over his menu and didn't appear to have heard the last five minutes of conversation. She couldn't blame him, not completely at least. She was sure that she could convince him to take a day trip to the other islands as long as wherever they went had bars and nightclubs. It was her own reluctance to do something so spontaneous that was stopping her.
"I wouldn't know where to go," she said instead. "I don't know any Spanish or anything about the islands. And I don't really want to do anything impromptu. The last time I went somewhere without proper planning things turned out…bad." To say the least.
"I always thought experiencing the unexpected was one of the best things about life," Antonio said. "It makes it all the more exciting. Like deciding not to live the life other people have prepared for you and instead buying the cheapest plane ticket you can find, which just happens to lead to Parma, Italy."
Elizabeta thought for a second before adding, "Or…or walking into a clock store looking for directions and instead finding wonderland."
"Or seeing an ad for culinary school and applying because the idea makes you happy and later discovering that it's just what you've been looking for."
"Or losing a check at a train station and making a new friend."
"Deciding not to go back home and making a one year visit into two years and then two years into ten."
"Going to camp."
"Attending a party on a yacht."
"Falling in…," Elizabeta caught herself before she could finish. "I-I mean, falling off a yacht and being rescued by a kind stranger."
"Allowing said kind stranger to take you to Gran Canaria tomorrow."
Elizabeta's eyes widened. "Seriously? You would?"
Antonio nodded. "I think it would be fun and hopefully much more interesting than staying here."
"But, but…" There were so many reasons for Elizabeta to say no but at that moment they all seemed like shallow excuses. There was a time for a planning and then there was a time for throwing caution to the wind, crossing your fingers and hoping that if you fell you would at least land on your feet. After all, wasn't she in Spain to enjoy herself?
"You know what? That sounds like a great idea," she said. "Right Gilbert? A trip to Gran Canaria sounds great, doesn't it?"
"What's the nightlife like?" Gilbert asked from behind his menu.
"They boast to have some of the best among the islands," Antonio said.
"Sounds awesome to me. I'm there," Gilbert said. He then threw his menu down on the table called over the waitress and proceeded to order all the appetizers and another daiquiri.
The next morning, for the first time in weeks, Elizabeta woke up feeling giddy and excited. Despite severe temptation, she had resisted looking up Gran Canaria online and had decided to go truly impromptu. At 10, she and Gilbert met Antonio at the harbor and took a ferry to the island. She was initially disappointed to find that Gran Canaria had its fair share of crowds and resorts but soon forgot them when they arrived at the Jardín Botánico Canario Viera y Clavijo. The 27 acre botanical garden was home to over 500 plant species and Elizabeta was immediately charmed. Antonio led them through the different divisions of the garden, pointing out the various flora and making it clear that he had been there many times before. Elizabeta found the Garden of Cacti and Succulents to be her favorite area until Gilbert commented that it was only fitting for her to like cacti because they were just as prickly and untouched as she was. He ran off to look for a bathroom before she could catch him, leaving her and Antonio to wander around by themselves.
"You should take a picture here," Antonio said when they reached a small waterfall.
"You think so?" Elizabeta said as she eyed the water warily. She wasn't in the mood to get soaked again.
"Yeah, it's perfect. I don't know how long Gilbert will be gone so I can take it if you want."
"That's very sweet of you," Elizabeta said. She took her camera out of her bag and handed it to Antonio. "I think the memory card is almost full. I'll have to change it when I get back to the villa, but there should still be enough room for 3 or 4 pictures."
She walked slowly up the steps in front of the waterfall, looking closely for loose rocks or anything that she could trip over. When she reached the top she realized that such a spot, with its romantic backdrop, would be more suited for couples but she smiled widely as Antonio raised the camera and hoped that she didn't look horribly pathetic.
"Let's take one more," she said after Antonio had taken the picture. "But together this time. After all, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here and I want to remember that."
"Only if you promise to send me a copy," Antonio said.
"It's a deal."
A man from a tour group behind them happily agreed to take the picture and afterwards commented that they made a lovely pair. He walked away before Elizabeta could correct him, leaving her with a bright red face.
"Sorry about that," she muttered.
"Why? He said we looked lovely. That's a good thing, don't you think?" Antonio said in his perpetually cheerful manner.
Elizabeta couldn't help but smile. "You're right. It was a nice compliment." She remembered how she and Ludwig had been mistaken for a couple as well and wondered why people never said that she and Gilbert looked like a 'lovely pair'. She almost laughed out loud when she realized that the idea of Gilbert being 'lovely' made as much sense as them being a pair.
They moved away from the waterfall and continued down the walkway.
"Can I see the picture?" Antonio asked.
Elizabeta handed him the camera.
"He was right. We do look lovely," Antonio said before returning the camera to her. "Now I really want a copy."
"You will definitely be getting one," Elizabeta said. She was about to turn the camera off when she saw that her memory card was full. "Looks like I guessed wrong about how many pictures I had left. And this is only our first stop on the island; I was hoping to take more. I know Gilbert took a few of himself, I'll just delete those to make room."
"I hope you don't mind me asking," Elizabeta said as she flipped through the pictures on the camera, "but yesterday you mentioned that you were in America for a year. I'm planning on visiting New York in a few months and—even though I don't know if it's even close to Vermont—I was wondering what it's like over there."
"They're actually both in the upper east coast and are neighbors. I even took a few weekend trips to New York City."
"That's where I'm going!" Elizabeta said excitedly.
"Really? Hopefully not during the winter. It can get very very cold there. I wasn't prepared and nearly froze to death in January." Antonio shuddered as if the thought itself chilled him.
"That's terrible! If everything goes how it should, I'll be there sometime in late July. It should still be nice then, right?"
Antonio nodded. "Expect heat, humidity and rain."
"Better than freezing," Elizabeta said. She found the first of the pictures of Gilbert. He had taken it in Venice and it was of him standing in front of the St. Mark's Basilica in the Piazza San Marco. He had a ridiculous expression on his face and was flashing a peace sign at the camera. She couldn't remember where she had been when he had taken it—most likely stuffing her face somewhere with Feliciano. She smiled but deleted the picture and continued searching for the rest.
"What are the people like?" she asked.
"Really nice. Especially in New York. Whenever I crossed the street the cab drivers always honked hello. Everyone is really busy though and always going somewhere. It really is the city that never sleeps."
"I'm so excited!" Elizabeta said. "I just hope I'm not completely broke by then. I've heard things are really expensive there."
"A lot of things are but you can buy a lot of cool trinkets and souvenirs from the street vendors, even designer clothes and bags."
"Really? That's so cool!" Elizabeta found two more pictures of Gilbert making weird faces and deleted them. "What else can you find…?" She forgot whatever else she was going to say when she saw the next picture on the camera. It was of her and Lovino, taken on the night of the party. They had been about to leave for the party when, without asking, Gilbert had grabbed the camera from her bag and snapped the candid picture. At that moment, she had been laughing at Lovino, who had been too embarrassed to look at her. She had realized what Gilbert was about to do a second before he took the picture and although her mouth was open in mid-laughter, her eyes were wide in surprise. Lovino's expression was somewhere between a scowl and shock. His face was bright red but when she looked at his green eyes she saw that there was something content, even, if it was possible, happy in them. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed that before. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten this picture.
"Elizabeta?"
"Huh?" She looked up from the camera and saw that Antonio was giving her a concerned look. She realized that she had stopped walking and was now standing awkwardly in the middle of the path while other tourists walked around her.
"Did you say something?" she asked.
"You were saying something but suddenly stopped. Are you okay?" Antonio asked.
Elizabeta put on her best smile. "Of course. I'm perfect. I just saw a, uh, shocking picture, that's all. What was I saying again?"
"You were asking about New York."
"Oh yes. What are the buildings like? Are they really all skyscrapers?"
They were still discussing the landscape of the city when Gilbert finally found them, claiming that he had gotten lost. He then said he was starving and tired of looking at plants that you could find in any common field or backyard. As much as she enjoyed walking around the gardens, Elizabeta couldn't deny that she was hungry as well so they left to find a place to eat. Antonio suggested a restaurant that he assured them was much more authentic and, when they arrived there, Elizabeta was pleased to find that the prices were reasonable. Afterwards, they headed back to Las Palmas where they spent the rest of the day exploring the capital of Gran Canaria. Finally, although reluctantly, Elizabeta finally walked along the sandy beach but then quickly retreated to the beach avenue where she watched Gilbert and Antonio swim out to the coral sandstone barrier that she was informed was commonly called 'the bar'. They stayed at the beach until the sun had completely set and Elizabeta wasn't surprised at all when Gilbert announced that he was ready to hit the 'real' bars. They found a taxi driver willing to make the 45 minute drive to Playa del Ingles and, once there, they moved in and out of the various bars. Normally, Elizabeta drank a beer or took a shot or two and spent the rest of the night keeping an eye on Gilbert but she couldn't bring herself to say no when Antonio ordered a third round of drinks and then a fourth and then she lost count. Sometime after 2 a.m., they left the last bar and walked with linked arms to one of the nightclubs where they danced, flirted and laughed until the sun rose. At that point, Elizabeta would have gladly splurged on a hotel room where they could sleep off their hangovers and rest their aching bodies but Antonio said he had work in the evening and couldn't afford to take the day off.
"Why didn't you say anything earlier? We didn't have to stay out the whole night," Elizabeta murmured. The three of them were seated on a bench overlooking the beach. Even in her intoxicated state she still felt a small pang in her chest as she remembered the last time she had watched the sun rise over the ocean. Next to her, Gilbert snored softly. Antonio looked as if he was barely keeping himself awake and she was half asleep herself.
"I didn't want to ruin the night. I wanted you to have fun," Antonio said yawning.
Elizabeta laughed softly. "I think we had too much fun."
"Gilbert certainly did."
"He always has too much fun. He never knows when to stop. I don't know how we're going to move him."
"You two should stay here and rest. I'm the one that has to work. I can go back to Tenerife myself."
Elizabeta managed to shake her head. "No, I can't let you go alone. We'll find a car and all go back together."
Somehow they found a taxi and somehow were able to board the ferry back to Tenerife. To keep themselves from falling asleep during the long voyage, Antonio told her more about his travels. She was surprised that he had yet to ask her about her own journey—most people would have by then. She was half grateful that he hadn't asked because she wasn't ready to talk about it.
Despite her protests, when they finally arrived at Tenerife, Antonio insisted on seeing them back to the villa and then proceeded to help her carry Gilbert inside. She had enough strength left to see him to the door.
"Thank you…for everything," she said heavily. "I know I'm going to hate myself when I wake up but it was definitely worth it."
Antonio smiled and she wondered how he could even muster the energy to do so. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"I…I haven't let myself be so carefree in awhile. I feel like I've been keeping myself so closed up, so far away from everyone else. I've been stupid and scared these past few weeks, so afraid to let myself really do what I want to do, say what I want to say—I can't even freely talk to my best friend anymore—and I'm rambling now and I'm sorry because this has nothing to do with you but I just wanted to say thank you, again, for saving my life and for giving me a day of pure delight."
"It sounds like you've been through a lot," Antonio said. "I'm sorry."
"Please…please, don't be. I have so much shit I need to put behind me and I told myself I would, I really want move on but it's not that easy and part of me doesn't want to let go. I can't let him go because I promised…I promised…and I always keep my promises." Elizabeta rubbed her eyes. "Damn it. I need to stop talking. I'm embarrassing myself and you need to get home and sleep. I'm sorry."
"Would you like to go to Fuerteventura tomorrow?" Antonio asked suddenly. "It has beautiful black sand beaches and some of the best sailing waters I've ever seen. I think you would like it."
Elizabeta blinked, her sleep-deprived brain struggling to understand what he was saying.
"Gilbert should come too," Antonio continued, oblivious to her present state of confusion. "He's the one with the huge yacht after all. There are a lot of hills on the island too; it's a great spot for hiking. Are you interested?"
"I…I…yes," Elizabeta said finally. "Yes."
Antonio beamed and once again she found herself returning the smile."That's great! I'll be around tomorrow afternoon. Sleep well!"
"I'll see you then and same to you," Elizabeta said. She gave him a tired wave and then closed the door. Lacking the strength to climb the stair to her room, she let herself collapse onto the couch in the den and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
.
.
.
"Gilbert! Gilbert come look! I see a turtle! There's a turtle swimming in the water!" Elizabeta squealed happily. The crystal clear water offered her a perfect view of the water below and over the past few hours of sailing she had seen schools of fish of all shapes, sizes and colors including marlin, which she had initially mistaken for swordfish. She had yet to see any whales although at one point she had seen a gray flash zip through the water and was almost certain that it had been a dolphin. Now, seeing the solitary turtle swim lazily behind the yacht sent her into a flurry of excitement.
"Gilbert, come quickly! You have to see it!" she called again.
"I'm a little busy at the moment, you know, navigating and not letting us crash into the rocks?" Gilbert yelled back.
"You liar! Get your butt out of the hot tub O Captain, my Captain! This is seriously a once in a lifetime sight!"
"My grandfather took my brother and me to the Galapagos Islands when I was ten. I've seen enough sea turtles to last a lifetime," Gilbert said. "Call me if you see a shark!"
Elizabeta scowled and turned back to the water. The sea turtle was proving to be a worthy opponent for the yacht, which was now only drifting with the currents. Although she still didn't approve of the boat couldn't help but feel happy to be on it. She doubted that she would ever be able to have such an experience on a commercial ferry. If she dared, she could climb over the railing and get even closer to the water but, with her luck, she would probably just end up falling in.
"Land ho!" Gilbert called. Elizabeta turned around to see him leaning against the railing on the upper deck, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Oh wait, that's just you Liz. My bad. Carry on with your turtle friends."
"Don't make me come up there!" Elizabeta yelled, shaking her fist. Gilbert only laughed.
Antonio suddenly appeared at the railing. "Lunch is ready!" he called.
"It's about damn time," Gilbert said as he followed Antonio back inside.
Elizabeta grabbed the railing and pulled herself to her feet. She glanced once more at the turtle before heading to the upper deck. She let out a little gasp when she saw the feast Antonio had laid out on the table. Gilbert's plate was already half full.
"This is wonderful, Antonio! You're a genius!" Elizabeta said.
Antonio laughed. "Really? It really isn't much but I tried. It's kind of weird cooking on a boat. I hope everything tastes alright."
"It's fucking awesome," Gilbert said through a full mouth.
"I don't even know where to start," Elizabeta said as she sat down. "It all looks so good!"
Antonio snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot!" He ran back to the kitchen and returned seconds later with an expensive looking bottle of red wine. "A present from my boss for all my hard work these past few weeks. Drinking alone is never fun so I thought I might as well bring it along today. It's Merlot, I hope you don't mind."
"I could never mind alcohol," Gilbert said. "Antonio, you are seriously my new best friend." He winked at Elizabeta who rolled her eyes. "Sit and pour three glasses."
Conversation flowed easily between the three of them and Elizabeta found it interesting how well Gilbert and Antonio got along. In a few minutes they were laughing and joking like old friends and she tried not to feel jealous or left out.
"I've been meaning to tell you that this is the most amazing yacht I've ever seen," Antonio said after they'd finished eating and the dishes had been cleared.
"It is, isn't it?" Gilbert said. He shot Elizabeta a smug look and she scowled back. "I'll give you the grand tour."
"If you need me, I'll be on the lower deck," Elizabeta said.
"Playing with the turtles again?" Gilbert said over his shoulder as he ushered Antonio out the door. "Have fun."
Elizabeta ignored him. The bottle of wine was nearly empty but she took it with her anyway. She wasn't too surprised to find that the turtle was still following the yacht.
"Did you miss me?" she asked as she sat down. She wrapped her legs around the railing and leaned against the warm metal. She couldn't explain it but at that moment she felt so carelessly happy, so blissful and lighthearted and wondered if it was the food or the company that was making her feel that way. If they never got to Fuerteventura she wouldn't complain. They could float this like forever, on a beautiful blue ocean, eating delicious food and making friends with whatever sea creatures decided to swim by and say hello. Elizabeta took a drink from the bottle and fell back onto the deck. There was hardly a cloud in the sky and the sun was directly overhead. She pulled her sunglasses down on her face and lay there until she heard approaching footsteps. She opened her eyes and saw Antonio smiling down at her. She smiled back and lifted up the bottle of wine.
"Drink?" she asked
"I would love to," Antonio said as he took the bottle from her.
"Sit, please," Elizabeta said, pulling herself up.
"Gilbert said we'll be arriving in less than half an hour," Antonio said as he sat down besides her. He took a short sip from the bottle and passed it back to her. "I haven't been to Fuerteventura since I was a kid. It will be nice to see it again. I'm actually just glad to be back in Spain. I think I was away for too long."
"What was your favorite place to visit?" Elizabeta asked.
Antonio looked pensive for a few seconds before answering, "I would say Parma. It was where everything started. And I've always loved Italy. It's a beautiful country, but of course you know this. You said you were in Venice, right?"
Elizabeta absentmindedly picked at the label on the wine bottle. "Yes. It was lovely," she said quietly.
"My only regret was not being able to travel to south Italy. I've always wanted to go to Sicily, particularly Palermo," Antonio said.
The bottle slipped from Elizabeta's hands and she only barely grabbed it before it spilled onto the white deck. All the pleasure of the day seemed to evaporate instantly but then she was furious at herself. Why was she still carrying these feelings, these memories with her? Why was she letting them bring her down and ruin her happiness? Why couldn't she just let go? Because of a promise? Or was there more to it than that? Elizabeta shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused back on what Antonio was saying.
"If I had to choose a second favorite place, I think it would be London because I hated it so much at first, with it's gray skies and stuffy people, but when it came time to leave, I didn't want to go. It's the type of place that you can't really forget about, not because it was especially wonderful—Paris was much more glamorous and even Cape Town was more interesting—but because there's something about it that stays with you. I'm probably not making much sense."
Elizabeta ripped the rest of the label off the bottle. It made a terrible sound. "You're making perfect sense. We all have places, people, we can't let go but it's best that we do. You can't focus on the future if you keep letting the past bring you down." She crumpled the label in her hand and let it drop onto the deck. She turned to Antonio, who was watching her with an even look. "Would you like to go dancing tomorrow?" she asked. "There's a place not too far from our villa that has themed nights and it looks very fun. I don't know how to dance, really, but I thought, if you were interested we could go together."
Antonio smiled. She was really beginning to like his smile. "I would love to go dancing with you," he said.
Elizabeta felt a wave of happiness wash all over her.
Antonio turned to the water. "That turtle is really keeping up with us."
Elizabeta laughed. "He's very determined to catch up," she said. "He doesn't seem like the type to give up."
Elizabeta waited until the next evening to tell Gilbert about her plans. She expected him to be upset, angry even, but he only shrugged and told her to have fun.
Elizabeta stared at him in surprise. "That's it? 'Have fun?' You're not going to ask to come along or yell at me for ditching you?"
"Is that really the kind of person you see me as, Liz?" Gilbert said. He was seated on the couch flipping through TV channels. "We came to Spain to have fun and that's what we've been having, even though I nearly killed myself on those sand dunes yesterday. You've kept your promise to me and haven't gone chasing after some loser. You've finally let yourself have some real fun. Honestly, I'm proud of you. And if you're going to go dancing with anyone, I'm glad it's Antonio. He's a cool guy, don't rip his head off. Anyway, I don't I do themed dancing. What's tonight, salsa?"
"Tango," Elizabeta said.
Gilbert grinned. "And can you tango?"
"Well…no. But Antonio promised to teach me."
Gilbert grinned wider. "Maybe I should come along after all. This could be fun to watch. What are you even going to wear?"
Elizabeta shrugged. Gilbert sighed.
"You're hopeless. Bring me your bags. There has to be something in there," he said.
Elizabeta went to her room and came back downstairs with her suitcases and carryon bag. Gilbert dumped the contents onto the floor and began picking through her clothes.
"Too casual, too plain, boring—what are you, a nun?—I think my great Aunt has this skirt…What do we have here?" Gilbert picked up a rumpled, but still beautiful wine-colored dress that Elizabeta recognized immediately. "I didn't know you still had this," he said quietly.
Elizabeta shrugged again. "I've been meaning to throw it away but I kept forgetting," she said impassively.
Gilbert examined the dress. "It still in good shape, you can still wear it. Probably just needs a good dry-cleaning—"
"No," Elizabeta said, her voice suddenly loud. "I don't want to keep it. I hate that dress. I hated it the second I saw it. I never wanted her to buy it!" She reached over and took it from Gilbert. "Enough is enough." Her fingers tightened on the fine material until the sharp sound of ripping fabric filled the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" Gilbert yelled. He reached for the dress but she pulled it away. "You can't destroy it!"
"Yes I can and that's exactly what I'm going to do! I'm going to rip it to pieces and then throw it away. And then I'm going to forget all about that stupid, stupid party and I'm going to forget about Italy and Venice and Feliciano and then I'm going to forget about Alessandro and then…and then I'm going to forget about Lovino. I'm done waiting for a phone call that's never going to come! I'm tired of thinking about someone I'm never going to see again!" Elizabeta's shoulders fell and she loosened her grip on the dress. "One message, one little message and I would have been fine. Just to know that everything was going to be alright," she said softly.
Gilbert pulled himself closer to her. "Liz—Elizabeta, listen. I've been trying to tell you something for the past few weeks. It's not that Lovino didn't care—"
"That's the thing Gilbert, he didn't," Elizabeta said harshly. "Because if he did he would have sent me something. Anything…"
"Can you just listen for two seconds? There's something that you need to know."
Elizabeta shook her head. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter." She took a deep breath and then ripped the dress cleanly in half. "It doesn't matter anymore."
.
.
.
Antonio picked her up at nine. He gave her a single red rose and told her that she looked lovely. Then he took her arm and they both stepped into the warm night. The dance club was less than a ten minute walk away and they were in no hurry. When they finally arrived, there were more people there than Elizabeta had anticipated. Antonio led her to a quieter corner and the teaching began. While other couples twirled around them, she winced and apologized every time she stepped on his toes but he only smiled and told her that she was perfect, that she was lovely and everything was fine. When the club finally closed at 3 a.m. they were the last ones there. The manager took pity on them and had the last song replayed and Elizabeta didn't mess up once and when Antonio dipped her at the end, the manager and the two doormen clapped and she felt like she had just given the best performance of her life. Once they were back outside, Elizabeta pealed her shoes off her aching feet.
"If I take another step in them I'll fall over," she said. She let out a sigh of relief as she pulled off the second shoe, relishing the feel of the cool ground beneath her feet.
"I don't think this is the best place to go barefoot," Antonio said. "There are broken bottles everywhere and you could step on glass."
Elizabeta only smiled and took his hand. He twirled her until she was dizzy and then picked her up and spun them both round and round until she was screaming with laughter.
"Put me down! Put me down!" she said, but he refused and although she begged him to put her down, it was the last thing she wanted.
He carried her all the way to the front door the villa where he finally set her down so that she could unlock the door. Still giggling, she pulled him inside the dark house. She had expected Gilbert to be long gone so she was surprised to find him sleeping on the couch in the den. They tiptoed past him to the kitchen. Elizabeta grabbed two beers from the fridge and then led Antonio out onto the deck. They sat on the edge of the pool and let their feet dangle in the water.
Elizabeta twisted the cap off her bottle and took a quick drink. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you, about my trip, but before I do, let's take a picture. I don't ever want to forget this night." She set down her drink, stood up and went to the deck table, where she pulled her camera from her purse. "I still haven't changed the memory card but there should be one picture left." She sat back down on the edge of the pool and held up the camera but, when she tried to take the picture, there only came a beeping sound. She turned the camera around and saw that the memory was full. "What the—I could have sworn there was one picture left. I bet Gilbert took another one of himself." Quickly, she flipped through the pictures. She stopped when she came to the one of her and Lovino. She pressed the delete button.
Are you sure you want to delete this image? The camera screen asked.
Was she sure? Was she ready to throw this last memory away? Before she could decide, her cell phone rang from the table. She sighed and handed the camera to Antonio.
"It's probably my mother," she said. "She's been trying to get me to come home and visit for weeks. She's more than a little worried about me going off into the big bad world and won't stop sending me messages."
Antonio laughed. "I can understand that. Mine called me every day for ten years."
The phone was on it's fourth ring as Elizabeta hurried over to the table. She answered it without checking the number.
"Look mum, I love you but you can't keep—"
"What the fuck? It's not your mother, it's me."
Elizabeta gasped and nearly dropped the phone. Time came crashing to a stop and the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. It seemed hours before she found her voice.
"L-Lovino?"
June 18th
Dear Elizabeta,
I'm glad that you are enjoying yourself but I caution you against spending too much money. I've heard the prices of goods on those islands are ridiculous. It's very upsetting to hear that you injured yourself. What sort of accident was it and why was Beilschmidt not around to stop it when it happened? Perhaps I should write to him and advise him to take better care of you.
I appreciate good photography as much as good music so I looking forward to seeing all of your pictures.
The festival will be ending in another week and although I'm sad to see end, I cannot help but be happy to be able to return to Vienna once more. As they say, home is where the heart is.
Stay safe,
Roderich
p.s- You must be mistaken. He has all the mannerisms of an Austrian.
A/N: I can understand that some of you might wish me bodily harm with such an ending like that but I beg that you keep back your pitchforks and torches, at least for now. I'm going to work very hard to get the next chapter up sometime in the next two weeks so please don't hate me too much ;A;
-with love
dancer
