Chapter Nine

It was the second late afternoon after the race at Porto Corsa, and a few of the teams have gathered at the docks, including teams McQueen and Bernoulli. As pitties from other teams conversed, crew chiefs discussed available strategies while not revealing their own, and the other racers friendly arguing in which country was better, Francesco, Lightning, the twins, Marlene and Mama Bernoulli gathered in a small group to the side.

"It sure is nice of the sponsors to give us a three-day cruise to London," Tia murmured.

"Now, don't-a forget to scrub behind your wings," Mama Bernoulli reminded her son fondly, nuzzling his front left wing gently.

"Mama, I'm not a little boy anymore," Francesco complained affectionately, smiling despite the push away.

"Oh, let your mother fuss," Lightning laughed." She already doesn't see you much when you're out doing the racing season."

Francesco huffed in defeat, and the group laughed lightly.

"No matter what you-a do, you're-a still my little boy," his mother crooned lovingly, kissing his wing, then turned to Marlene. "So, this is the amica you were-a talking about?"

The rest of the group stared at Marlene, whose smile faded, eyes strain incredulously at the Bernoullis. Francesco stared at his mother furiously.

"Mama!" he growled.

"What? You tell me about a beautiful signorina and when I'm interested you-a tell-a me off!" she scolded.

"Marlene," Mia said slowly, "what does amica mean?"

"Amica," Marlene replied in a near-murmur, veiled fury in her tone, "means 'girlfriend' in Italian."

The four American cars stared at a panicked Francesco. Lightning and mater felt disbelief at the fact Francesco would easily consider their friend that way. Lightning still couldn't believe his ears because they just met in one day, for crying out loud. But Mia and Tia clearly misunderstood her tone, because their eyes lit up in excitement and joy.

"You didn't tell us Francesco was your boyfriend!" Mia squealed excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Tia squeaked assent.

Marlene stared at the two with soft eyes, voice hard with sorrow that crushed her heart again. "Because we weren't in the first place." the twins' mouths gaped, and Marlene stared at Francesco slightly, swallowing, then looking away.

The rest of the group was quiet, the immediate air, crackling with tension. Lightning nudged his friend, jerking at Marlene's direction, the R8's head bowed in silence. When Francesco didn't understand, Lightning mouthed, 'GO'.

But How could he? the space was small. There were five other cars that didn't need to be involved with this. Francesco shook his head slightly, then became more definite. He wasn't going to do it. Not not, at least.

someone of the speakers announced that the cruise ship leading to London was about to take off in twenty minutes, and suggested the cars going on that cruise be boarding it already. The four Americans bid Mama Bernoulli good-by, as well as her own son, who joined his friends. Marlene stood back to stare at the elder she-car.

"I'm embarrassed to say I'm sorry, signora," she said sheepishly. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"What, for you and-a my son to happen?" she retorted.

Marlene felt like shooting back a cutting reply, but pushed it down in respect of the prestigious mother. "No, that wasn't what I mean." She continued before Mrs. Bernoulli could reply. "Please listen. I'm not sure whether I should give you any more stress than you can take, but I'm sure Francesco will let you know about what had happened." She paused, letting her words sink in. "Francesco and I weren't meant to be, Signora Bernoulli."

"Cara mia," the mother said softly, almost affectionately, and Marlene looked at her, "you never know what a man can-a do for a girl like-a you."

"What happened back there?" Lightning asked as his friend approached. When she didn't answer, he continued, "What really happened between the both of you? You seemed so happy when you got home the other day.

"It's none of your business" was her solemn reply.

What did Mrs. Bernoulli mean about what a man can do for her? What did she mean? Did the man mean Francesco, or some other guy that has the hots for her?

She was lost in thought before she recognized what Lightning was saying. "You both are my friend; it's my business," he growled. "Now, why have you argued with Francesco?"

She gaped at him after a few seconds. "How do and how much do you know?"

"I know enough. Now, answer."

"I was going to comfort him after Mr. Motorosi scolded him harshly. I thought he felt frustrated after what the crew chief said. But then I overheard some things that I never deserved to hear," she said, the words tumbling out. "I didn't mean to get mad at him, but it just hurt so much that he would blame me for his loss and have more concern on winning, both reasons tied together." She sighed. "I don't know if I can go to him again."

Lightning's anger seemed to fade. "Why not give him another chance? Nobody's perfect."

"But I don't want my heart to suffer again," she choked, eyes glistening as she remembered, heart twisting as she reminisced of the times her her heart had shattered.

"It won't, Marlene," he soothed her, nuzzling her fender lightly. "It won't."

As the guests scattered around the boat, the sun had started to set, and Marlene was at the bow of the boat to see marvel the twilight. Moments later, she heard the familiar, open, clean whir of an engine. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of pleasure soother her wracked nerves, sending her body prickling. She'd know that engine anywhere. Her eyes flashed open. She had the urge to launch herself off the boat to escape him, but she remembered her friend's words and Mama Bernoulli's that meant only one thing: Give him another chance.

She stood her ground, and let him side by her quietly. She stared outward to the horizon, observing how the orange hit the blue waters ahead.

"The sunset is beautiful, non?" she heard him murmur. She only nodded quietly, unsure of how to respond. He turned to face her. "Can we talk?"

Her lips twitched thoughtfully. "I suppose there is something to talk about," she said softly.

"Yes, well,…I'm sorry for what I said to you three days ago. Well, not to you, but, well…you get the idea. It was…unforgivable." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I don't really know whether to tell you off with a big speech or say a big speech or not, but…I was quite hoping I could have a second chance at…being with you." He looked away. "If that's alright, of course."

He winced. What was wrong with him? This was the first time in years that he stammered at a girl! Why was he acting so stupidly at the time he needed to be as confident as he could?

She never turned from the sunset, and blinked a few times in thought. "Why?" she asked, and the feeling intensified as the words formed in her mind and passed on to history. She was on a roll. "Why should you have an interest in someone as lowly as me? Why should I be worth so much more than the women you've met in your career? what's wrong with me?" At the last question she stared at him, tears in her eyes. she felt so bad right now, but she didn't know if it was love or if it was the hurt of the rejection that she felt in the pits that day.

"What's wrong with you!" he repeated in disbelief. "Marlene, there is nothing wrong with you. From what I've seen on the day I toured you around Porto Corsa, there was nothing wrong with you." It's time, Francesco thought. It's time. "When you tell me about the experiences you've had in your life, I listen more intently than I've ever had before. You've noticed that I like talking about myself and hearing cars talk about me all the time. But things are more interesting when you talk about yourself and the things that interest you, too, like racing and writing. When I see your eyes shine when you're happy, my heart leaps and I feel happy, too, for you.

"You aren't as sassy as the women I've met, who unfortunately want something other than love or a snob when you encounter things that don't look too good, like the lowly people of the towns of Porto Corsa. When you tell a joke, I laugh not because it's polite to, but I laugh because it's really funny.

"You're not like any other car I've met, Marlene. When I went home after the race, I felt so incomplete. I didn't know what to do, but sat in my room, alone, door locked, breaking down on my bed. I was so heartbroken. I really enjoyed your company that day we drove around town.

"i've seen a lot of women in my career, and they're all the same, one after the other, that you'd soon think you've seen one, you've seen them all. but not you." His voice softened considerably. "After meeting you and getting to know you in ten hours, I know that I can never play the field again. And when I'm with you, the feeling is so good, so right, that I feel like I'm playing more than the field, because for me, in my entire career, playing the field is knowing someone for the betterment of your life. I never factored in love or what my heart said. But you changed that. You changed everything about me, Marlene, and that's the greatest reason I can give you."

Marlene was sure she could die of the elation that she was feeling. Nobody had ever told her anything as intense as this, or anything as beautiful as the speech he had just given her. There were no words to express what she had wanted to say right then and there, where the greatest car she ever met stood before her, when the greatest time of the day was at that moment.

"Now, will you love me back as I love you?" he asked her softly, eyes reflecting the deepest love.

"Oh, Francesco," she gasped, "I know I will."

Ecstasy surged through Francesco, and he loses his eyes for a moment before looking at her again. Only she wasn't there.

Where was she? Did she lie to him that she would love him back, just a he did for her? That cheater! The liar! The nerve of her to do that.

But he didn't hear her engine in his happiness, and jerked in surprise as he felt something touch his other side.

She jerked away, reacting in surprise as he did the action before she did. Her heart twisted as she looked at him with bleak eyes. He only smiled at her, shaking his head, and she settled close against him once more, nuzzling his left wing.

After the tears of joy have been shed and soothing words had been said, Marlene spoke after a bit of silence.

"I never thought I would find love this way," she murmured softly.

"Why? Haven't your suitors…?" His voce trailed away.

"No one that I've ever met, not even my first love, has ever done what you did," she said, looking sideways at him, so much love in her eyes. "Either they were too shy to reveal their true feelings, or too intimidated by a car like me."

He stared at her with the same amount of affection. "Really?" He turned to the sunset again, pursing his lips. "I find that hard to believe."

She chuckled. "Well, I'm the only R8 in the branch, and you don't' see many sports cars in a lowly job. Others think my standards are too high or I'm such a snob or some other negative stereotype." She shrugged. "It's natural."

"Well, it's not natural to me. By the way," he continued, "I have to ask: who was your first love?"

"My first love?" she repeated, elation clouding her mind. "Erm…." That snapped her out of her trance. "My first love was Lightning."

Alarm instantly fueled a jerk away, and Marlene suddenly felt hurt. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Did you two ever…?"

"Ever what?" she said, frowning at him and at whatever he thought they did.

"Ever…do…erm…."

She rolled her eyes, but understood. "I'm not stupid, Francesco. I haven't even had my first kiss yet," she informed him. "Now can you get back here?" There was no anger in her tone, but only affection and the loneliness that was threatening to show in her voice.

He immediately sided by her, and went back to nuzzling him mindlessly. "Oh, and I'm embarrassed to talk about it, too."

"Yeah?"

"M-hm."


Cara mia-My dear