Chapter 21

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

I reached out from under the covers and grabbed my phone, turning off the alarm and setting it back down on the bedside table. I sighed and reached my hand back under the comforter, closing my eyes. It was so warm and comfortable under the covers…

Realizing that I was drifting back to sleep, I pried myself off of the mattress and out from under the blankets, into the cold air of the room. I rubbed my face and looked at the hotel clock.

Five A.M. Time to get ready to go.

I dressed, ate, and got ready to leave for the airport, moving sleepily and yawning as I went. I put the remainder of my things in my suitcase and pulled it to the door, then got my camera bag and set it on top. I looked back at the hotel room one last time, and then walked slowly toward the window, pushing back the curtains and peering out at the dark New York skyline. I could feel the cold through the window, and I shivered, taking one last look at the city before I let the curtain fall again. I turned and went back to the door, crouching in front of it to pull on my red high-tops. I pulled on my coat and then tugged up the handle of my suitcase, draping my heavy camera bag over my shoulder.

I turned off the lights and wheeled my suitcase as quietly as I could into the hallway. I carefully closed the door and then squinted through the dim hall lighting. I started toward the elevator, pulling the suitcase wearily behind me. As I passed Ignazio's door, I stopped, looking at it and picturing him sleeping within. We had said our goodbyes the night before, but I gingerly laid my hand on the cold wood and whispered, "Good bye, Ignazio. See you in January."

As I passed the doors of the others, I whispered last goodbyes to them, too, in the darkness.

"Goodbye, Gianluca. Goodbye, Piero. Goodbye, Michele. Goodbye, Barbara. Goodbye, band members."

As I approached the elevator doors, I was surprised when they opened and in the glow of the light inside, I saw Ignazio standing in the doorway in his brown leather jacket and jeans.

"Ignazio!?" I said, smiling suddenly. "What are you doing awake? You should be sleeping!"

"I set my alarm for the same time you did," he said a bit groggily, smiling as he held open the door for me. I wheeled my suitcase inside and he hugged me and kissed my cheek as the doors slid shut. He took my camera bag from me and slung it over his own shoulder.

"I want to drive you to the airport in the rental so I can tell you goodbye right before you leave."

"Really?" I stared at him, incredulous. "You got up at five A.M. just to drive me to the airport?"

"Yes," he said, resting his hand lightly on my waist. "After today, I won't get to see you for four more weeks."

I nodded, and then leaned forward to kiss his cheek, making him smile.

"Thank you. I'd much rather ride with you than with a random cab driver."

The doors opened, and Ignazio insisted on wheeling my suitcase for me, too. We walked together to the lobby, where I checked out, and then we went out to the parking lot, into the freezing air. I squinted and drew my coat tighter around me as I hurried beside Ignazio to the rental car.

He put my things in the backseat, and then we got in and he started the drive to the airport. We were quiet, except for our quick breathing from the hurrying through the parking lot. I watched him watching the nearly empty roads as he drove, admiring his thick dark hair, his dark eyebrows and sweet eyes, his soft expression, his broad shoulders and his gentle hands on the steering wheel.

"Tamzin," he said, turning his head to look at me. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Ignazio."

"I'll call you, okay? Will you answer me?"

"Of course!" I said, and laughed, making him smile brightly.

"Be careful when you go out to take your landscapes. I won't be there to stop you if it's too dangerous."

"Okay. I will."

"I want you to come back in one piece."

"I will."

"You will come back or be in one piece?"

I laughed, and he smiled, but then gently looked over at me.

"Really though, Tamzin. When the four weeks are over you're supposed to fly to Los Angeles, and I'll be at the airport to pick you up. You'll be there, right?"

"Of course, Ignazio." I tilted my head, studying him for a moment

. "Ignazio, are you scared I won't be there?"

For once, he seemed speechless, and he just glanced over at me, looking nervous.

"Why would you think that?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that I know this wasn't what you planned on doing when you left Harrison…and I know you hated being with us at first."

"I like it now," I pointed out, and he nodded.

"Yes. I'm very glad about that, but…I couldn't help but wonder about it. This is the first time since joining us you'll be away from us."

"I wouldn't run away, Ignazio."

I sat back in my seat and turned my gaze to the road, thinking. The idea of running away hadn't even crossed my mind. I was sure I wouldn't ever have decided to run away, but perhaps the idea might have crossed my mind if the break was at an earlier time. I thought back to when I first joined the Il Volo team. I would have rejoiced in some time away from them, but now it was something I accepted as a temporary break from work.

"I'm sorry," Ignazio said gently, "I shouldn't have thought it of you."

"No, it's okay," I said, shaking my head, "I like being part of Il Volo's team now, Ignazio, but a few months ago it might not have been such a crazy thought. I'll definitely see you in four weeks… and I expect to see you rested, healthy, and happy from your time in Sicily!"

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" he said, and we laughed, and then quieted as he turned onto the street of the airport.

"Bye, Ignazio," I said as he pulled into the airport parking lot, and he shook his head.

"Let me walk you inside."

He carried my bag again and pulled my suitcase behind him, and we walked side-by-side together into the building. He seemed somber and anxious, as if dropping me off for a four-month vacation instead of a four-week one.

Inside, we stood side-by-side, watching the bustle of early-morning activity inside the building. Ignazio turned his gaze to me after a moment, and when I looked up at him he wordlessly handed me my camera bag.

I took it, and then he wrapped me up in his arms, enveloping me in his coat and holding me against his chest. I hugged him tightly back, taking in his nice boyish scent, and he held me for a long moment. Then he pulled back and tenderly touched his lips to mine, and then after lingering there for a moment he pulled back and kissed both of my cheeks and my forehead. He took my head in his hands and gazed sweetly down at me, and I gazed back up at him, looking into his tender dark eyes.

"Goodbye, Ignazio."

"See you soon, Tamzin." He leaned his head forward and rested his forehead against mine, still holding my face in his hands. "I love you,Tamzin." he whispered.

I was taken aback, and I stared dumbstruck at him, suddenly wondering if he expected me to respond. But he immediately leaned forward and kissed my lips again, not giving me time to answer. Then he let go of me and handed me the suitcase handle, saying, "Have a great Christmas! Be safe. I'll see you in four weeks, my dear."

I nodded, and he stepped backwards and slowly starting walking back, continuing to watch me. I took one last look at him, and then turned and looked at the huge airport stretched out in front of me. I started forward, pulling the suitcase behind me and feeling him still watching me.

I was constantly in motion during the break, giving myself things to do so I wouldn't be bored. I checked in at the Academy and did some work there labeling and filing my landscapes, hanging around the campus during the day and showing Mr. Masters what I had been doing. I drove to different beaches and locations in Florida to get some nice landscapes, running around in the cool air with my camera as I climbed and crawled and found good places to get new landscapes. I already had hundreds of landscapes from Florida, but I enjoyed the challenge of finding new ways to portray it.

I stayed in my old bedroom in my parents' home in Tallahassee. They were excited to have me back home, and I was surprised when they wanted to know all about my new job working with Il Volo. They didn't understand my photography passion, and they couldn't comprehend my wild romps with my camera, the ecstatic thrill of capturing beauty to keep and share. I told them what they wanted to know, but left out the way I hated the job at first. I did tell them that I was becoming very close to Ignazio, and I think they realized something was going on between us when I brightened up whenever they mentioned his name. I spent most of my time in my parents' living room diligently working on the Il Volo websites, sharing photos with the fans, receiving fanart to share and the Il Volovers' opinions on my pictures, Il Volo's Christmas album, and their concerts.

I kept myself busy, but there was a strange, nagging loneliness that sometimes tugged on me. Ignazio was temporarily gone to me, vanished from my life. I was sorting through endless pictures and video clips of him, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't there beside me like he usually was, joking with me, singing incessantly, kissing my cheeks and gazing at me, and it made me feel strange that he was suddenly so absent. During the first few days of vacation without any contact from him, I half-expected him to saunter into the room and come over to see what I was working on.

As I went about my vacation days, I would wonder where he was, as I would during touring, and then realize he was all the way in Sicily, in a whole different country from me. I hoped he was having a good time with his parents, and I wondered if he missed me.

On Christmas day, after I had lunch with my parents and a few neighbors, I sat boredly on a chair in the kitchen while my parents cleaned up, sipping my hot chocolate that wasn't as good as Ignazio's and watching the adults converse in the living room.

Then my phone rang, and I picked it up and answered it without even seeing who was calling.

"Merry Christmas, my dear!" came the beautiful Italian accent, and I laughed so suddenly and joyfully that I startled both of my parents, who had seen me in a pretty calm demeanor the past few days. "Ignazio!" I cried, jumping up to go into my bedroom, and my parents smiled and shared a look.

I missed Ignazio so much. I longed to be back with him, traveling with Il Volo again. I missed all of the boys, and Michele and Barbra, too. I felt so distanced from them, and the world around me sometimes felt like it did before I left with Il Volo, like I was going about my life preparing for my acceptance into National Geographic, and I surprisingly didn't like it. My life now was with Il Volo, and I felt so far away from them, like I was stuck in a reminiscence of the past that wouldn't end. I pulled my laptop back to myself over and over again, reminding myself that my life with them was real and was only taking a break.

I wanted to get back, to keep traveling and reunite with the team, which surprised me when I realized one morning in January how strongly I longed for this. Only a few months earlier I would have treasured this time and never wanted to go back, but now I knew how great the time with them could be.

And Ignazio…I remembered the days going to college and attending Harrison, before I had ever met him, and they suddenly seemed so empty to me. How could I have been so content without his laughter, his tenderness, his eager excitement? Without his constant presence, I realized how much I cared for him and missed him. I wanted him back with me so much it hurt, and I understood why he had wanted to hold me for so long the day before the Christmas Eve Extravaganza.

I was so happy whenever he called me, and we talked for a long while each time, telling the other about what was going on, and he constantly texted me to remind me that he missed me, and I would respond immediately and tell him the same.

The weeks felt so mundane to me, the same mundaneness I had felt originally when I couldn't go out to take my landscape photos on the touring. Going out to take my photos in Florida was fun, but I found myself counting down the days until the break was over so I could return to my projects and have my team and Ignazio back.

I thought of him incessantly, imagining his dimples, his bright eyes and brilliant smile, his silky dark hair, his gentle hands…

The four weeks dragged by.

At last, when I couldn't bear to sit idly at home anymore, Michele emailed me with the information for my flight to Los Angeles. A few days later, I told my parents goodbye and left for my flight back to the boys. I was ecstatic to return to them, and I eagerly boarded the plane and watched it leave behind my past Florida home. I remembered the flight to Los Angeles months before, when I first went to meet the boys and get my training from Valerie. I had been irritable and anguished to be leaving my happy life waiting for National Geographic, but now all I wanted was to be back with the boys.

National Geographic could wait; right now I had other things to do. I felt lonely on the plane without the boys, who usually sat around me and played around and sang together. Ignazio was usually beside me on plane rides, and I longed for him instead of the sleeping man who was actually beside me. I reminded myself that it wouldn't be long now until I saw him again. He had texted me and reminded me he was going to pick me up from the airport.

We landed at dusk, the sky growing dark and streaked with pink and orange. It was chilly and loud in the airport, and I was shaking with excited energy, knowing Ignazio was somewhere nearby. I got my luggage and stood in the middle of the crowded building, looking around for the handsome Italian boy. I looked from face to face, nervously adjusting my camera bag on my shoulder, not seeing him anywhere. I turned and looked around, and checked my phone to see if maybe he saw me. People bustled past me and bumped into me, and I apologized but stayed in my lookout spot in the middle of the floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the crowd.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I looked down at it.

Turn around.

My heart leaped in my chest, and I shoved it back into my coat pocket as I whirled around. Ignazio was striding toward me in the distance through the thick crowd, his face alight with a brilliant smile, his eyes shining eagerly as he came toward me. I could see him mouth my name against the roar of the crowd, and I immediately abandoned my bags and took off, racing across the floor to extinguish the distance between us. My red high-tops were flashes of color as I sprinted toward him, yelling his name, my coattails flying behind me. I laughed as he started to run toward me, reaching out his arms, and when I finally reached him I grabbed the flaps of his coat in my fists and pulled him hard toward me. I kissed him, breathless with excitement as he wrapped his arms around me tightly and kissed me back, holding me warmly in his grasp. I held him to me by his coat, and when I finally pulled back to take a breath, I took his head in my hands and kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. He closed his eyes, loving it, and when I released his coat and threw my arms around his shoulders, he hugged me tightly, picking me up momentarily from the ground.

"I missed you so much, Ignazio!"

"I missed you too, Tamzin!"

I closed my eyes when I felt him turn his head and kiss my neck, and then he released me and put his arm around my waist, leading me to where I had abandoned my bags in the middle of the airport floor.

After all the greetings from the team at the condos, all the welcome-backs, all the holiday stories exchanged and a reunion dinner with all of the team at Michele's condo, I sat in my own condo with Ignazio. I sat at the cabinet, nibbling on the I-missed-you cookies he had made me and watching him across the room sitting on the floor in front of the T.V. He sat cross-legged with his back to me, my laptop in front of him on the carpet so he could scroll through my new landscapes.

I couldn't see his face, but his silence showed me that he was engrossed in them, slowly admiring each one so he wouldn't miss any of the scenes I had captured.

I smiled to myself as I watched him lean back and run a hand slowly through his long hair that needed trimming. Barbara told me when he got back from Sicily he had a lengthening beard, and that she quickly demanded he shave. I smiled, still watching his back, my eyes following the slope of his shoulders in the fitted T-shirt he had been wearing under the coat now hanging by the door.

I dangled my feet from the barstool and quietly pushed off my red high-tops, letting them fall to the floor with a thud that Ignazio didn't even turn to see. He was too absorbed into my pictures, which made me smile bigger as I kept gazing at him across the room.

I slowly reached out and closed the container that held the cookies, and then cautiously placed my hand on the bar and softly set down my socked foot on the floor. Staring at him, the corner of my mouth turned up slightly, I put down my other foot and stepped down from the bar, pausing to see if he noticed. When he didn't, I sunk to the ground, cautiously getting down on my hands and knees as I stay focused on him.

Carefully, I began to inch forward, setting down a hand silently in the carpet and then pulling up my knee, lifting it so the leg of my sweatpants wouldn't drag the ground. I successfully muffled a giddy laugh as I moved closer and closer. The air was still except for the soft whooshing of the heater as I came up behind him and crouched, poised to attack in the stillness, holding my breath.

I was going to pounce on him, going to shout and leap onto his back, making him jump and let out a surprised cry that quickly turned into laughter as he pulled me off of him.

Instead, I stayed poised behind him, letting my eyes travel from the bottom of his back where his jeans began under the shirt, all the way up his spine, up in between his shoulder blades and then onto the back of his neck up to his head, to the silky dark hair.

I didn't pounce. I slowly, quietly sat back from my tigress pose onto my heels, still breathing as softly as I could. I let my gaze travel back down, down past his neck, his shoulders, his spine, to the bottom of his back again.

I raised my hand, and cautiously reached forward, moving slowly toward the fabric, until my hand slowly touched the shirt and I rested my hand on his back, feeling the warmth through the shirt.

He immediately straightened, but then quickly relaxed, not turning to look at me. He stayed completely still, letting me touch him, and I relaxed my hand, setting it more firmly on the bottom of his back. Slowly, curiously, I moved it upward, over the T-shirt, and reached forward my other hand and placed it beside it, running both my hands up his back. He stayed still, but I heard his quick exhale and moved closer to him, decreasing the space between us. I moved my hands up, over his shoulder blades and onto his neck. Goosebumps appeared under my fingers, and I smiled wide impulsively, moving my hands back down and then curiously over his broad shoulders and over his chest.

I remembered one day in early December when I was sitting on the balcony in Indianapolis, he had come up behind me and kissed my neck. It felt sweet, but strange to me, and when I had tensed up he had kissed my head and moved to sit beside me instead.

Now, I leaned forward and pressed my lips softly to his neck, my hands on his shoulders, and I glanced up at him and saw his faint smile and closed eyes. He turned his head to me, but I buried my head in his shoulder, kissing his neck again and again, and when I looked up he had closed his eyes and was smiling blissfully. I kept kissing his neck and he sighed contentedly, and I moved my hand to feel the goosebumps on the back of his neck.

I smiled and kissed him one last time, lingering there for a moment before I lifted my head and then moved my arms around his neck, hugging him from behind and laying my head against the top of his back.

"I missed you," I said softly, and then he shifted sideways a little and I let go of him as he turned, reaching for me. He moved his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him, lifting me from the floor and into his lap. I leaned back against his arm as he cuddled me in his arms like a baby, bending forward to kiss me. He held me tightly against him, kissing my lips, my cheeks, and then moving down to my neck. I closed my eyes and felt him holding me, reaching my hand up to rest against his chest.

Then I reached for his face and guided him back to my lips, kissing him for a minute before pulling back and smiling up at him. He smiled back down at me, and then I laughed suddenly, feeling exhilarated, and he laughed too and cradled my face in his hands. I reached up and he hugged me tightly, holding me gently with his warmth radiating through his shirt. I got up from his lap, kneeling in front of him to keep hugging him, and he held me quietly for several minutes.

"I love you," he said when I pulled back, and I kissed him again and sat back on my heels.

"I love you, too, Ignazio," I said, and he smiled brightly, making me smile too.