Last Time on P &C's...

"I told him good bye," she says after a few heartbeats, stepping in to the room and tossing the room key in the ashtray on the desk.

I let the door go with a soft click, "I never asked you to do that."

"I didn't do it for you, Jake." She leans her butt on the desk, hunching over and rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "I needed to do it for me…

…"I love you so much,'" she smiles, walking over to me and reaching up to kiss me.

She's perfect.

And she's chosen me.

Take that shorty…

"…Ness," I say, testing the mood, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

I pull her in, pressing my hard-on into her tummy, my arms trapping her against me. "What the hell did you ever see in him?"… "He's just so short," I exclaim, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

She lets out a frustrated huff, slapping my chest and rolling her eyes. I don't need her reassurances. I've never felt so sure of us as I do right now. "He's not that short to me," she says from her five-one elevation.

"Yeah, but you're a mini person Ness, to the rest of humanity he's a short-ass. And to me, well shit, he's miniature."

She looks up at me with an arched brow, "Maybe not all of him is miniature."

I know she's just teasing. If there is one thing in life I'm confident in, it's my… endowment.

"Are you shitting me?" I say, giving her my best fake incredulous look. My hands wrap around her torso, thumbs just under her boobs, each finger counting her ribs as I tickle and she starts to giggle.

"Yes!" she laughs hysterically, wiggling under my tickling hands, "I'm just shitting you! Stop! Yes The Big Chief is the biggest! Oh, hail Big Chief Black, the biggest dick in the Pacific Northwest." I tickle her ribs a little more, my face nuzzling into that nook at the base of her neck where she smells the best. "The biggest dick in Europe, too!" she cackles. I love her laugh, it's pretty and sexy and cute and irresistible all at once as it drifts out the open window to the Piazza della Rotonda.

My best friend's laugh.

God I love her…


Thanks Aretee for the beta work on this chapter.

The rooftop garden is a real place, ive been there, and It's not exaggerated.

Sarah, here's another chapter for you to snuggle up in bed with and read ;-)


Chapter 55- The climb to the top.

I'm sound asleep; somewhere between the cliffs of Taylor's point back home and the memory of Nessie's ass last night, when the bed shifts under me. A little warm body presses against my back as soft lips kiss the bare skin of my shoulder blade. "Wake up sleepy head."

Behind my eyelids I can see the brightness of the morning, the quiet Sunday sounds of bells ringing and the rich smell of coffee coming from outside the window.

"Mmmmh, go away." I'm still tired. It was a late night for us. After our afternoon reaffirmation, we had dinner in the piazza below us and explored the local area for a bit before retiring to our camera- that's Italian for 'room', Ness is slowly teaching me a few things. I also know the phrase ti amo is 'I love you' and after last night's rigorous testing of the king size bed in room 306, I also know that più duro is 'harder' too.

She pushes me on the shoulder, "come on, I want us to go for a run."

"Didn't we get enough exercise last night?" I say into the pillow, just tilting my head and opening one eye towards her. She's already dressed, in a running t-shirt and shorts. Her hair's up in a high ponytail that's braided and falling down her back.

The plait hits me in the face as she jumps up on to the bed landing with both knees either side of my naked ass, her hands holding my shoulders as she leans down, her lips breathing warm, tickling air against my neck. "Get up," she whispers, "I have so much I want to show you before we go to the Verano."

Ah, now I get it. She wants to keep busy until we head to the cemetery. Well I guess that if exercise is a form of treatment for depression, then it stands to reason it might help with her grief.

"Alright," I moan, "can I at least take a piss first?"

She jumps off me like a springer spaniel, and leans back down for another quick, happy kiss as I roll over.

"Yes, you can even take a dump if you like."

"Oh, how gracious of you."


It's an amazing route she takes us on. First she leads us south, along some of the quieter cobbled city streets. Soon we find ourselves on a wide and expansive road. It's a busy street with spectacular, palatial type buildings lining it. For another few miles we run, both of us keeping a good pace despite our exertions last night, until we round a terraced corner.

Suddenly in front of us, as if popping out of nowhere, is the looming Colosseum. My pace picks up to get us there faster; I remember seeing this on TV when I was a little kid. It was some nighttime concert on TV, Pavarotti—or someone one like that— singing in the giant amphitheater, spot lights illuminating the arena in a golden hue. I remember that we all sat around the living room and watched it— it was the closest my mother ever got to going to the opera.

It hurts my neck to look up its fifty meter height as we jog around. Already tourists are posing in the gargantuan arches that are carved out with military like accuracy and uniformity as we start to circle around. We don't stop, tomorrow is the day we've planned to go inside these ancient ruins, but I can't help but slow and turn to run backwards for a bit. I can't get over how massive it is.

"The ancient Romans didn't do anything half-assed, did they?" I puff, keeping a slow sideways trot next to Ness.

With my thoughts still reeling from the overwhelming size of the ancient relic, she's pulling on my arm. "Come on ya Yankee Doodle, there's more to see, and we don't want our heart rates to drop." So I turn, picking up the pace and give Ness a friendly smack on the ass as I over take her. I push a little harder. Mom would have liked to have seen this place.

We skirt along the ruins of the Forum, cutting through until we get to the ancient track that once held chariot races bigger than Ben Hur.

Today is a good day.

We exit the Circus Maximus, veering off, and then down a busy street until we find the Tiber just after the little island that separates the ancient city with the new. We follow it upstream, the imposing castle of St. Angelo just across the river.

We veer away from the river bank and jog for another mile back in to the ancient city. Then suddenly, we're climbing up, up all one hundred and thirty-five of the Spanish steps. I think of dad as a church bell around the corner starts. He wouldn't have been able to climb these stairs. I do them two at time, just for him.

We weave through the throngs of crowds and soon we're running again, along a busier road. For another mile we run until she slows, stopping on a quiet corner. We've stopped by a little restaurant that has pretty little red flowers in boxes by their windows.

"One more stop before we go get ready for the cemetery," she says plucking a flower and tucking it behind her ear. She fishes around in a little pocket on her shorts and hands me a tarnished gold Euro. "They say that if you want to come back to Roma you have to throw this into the fountain."

I look around us, there's nothing but three story high apartments, small locally owned stores and the restaurant surrounding us.

"What fountain?"

She takes my hand, stepping us a few more feet until we turn the corner, the oppressive, narrow alleyway opening out into a large cool and bright piazza.

"That fountain."

Her eyes lift up to the grand building towering over us and the incredible Trevi fountain in front.

It's humongous. The details are incredible, elaborate marble scenes of Roman gods and horses leaping out of the water. There are tourists everywhere. The coin Nessie just handed me is warm from being pressed against her body heat as we've jogged. I toss it up and down in my palm a few times as we walk closer to the marvelous creation. I take in the intricacies and then try to fathom, and fail, how such a scene could be chiseled out of the rough pieces of rock that you can still see at the edges of the sculpture. Then, before we reach the fountain, she stops, frozen just half a foot from the sandstone edge of the water.

Her eyes are distant, looking through the water spray as they start to get as wet as the statue of the god Ocean before us. She has a hold of the spirit pendant around her neck, back and forth it slides, the sound of the metal zipping together is lost in the noise of the crowds and the water as it spatters.

"What's wrong baby?" I thought we we're having a great morning jog. The best I've ever experienced to be honest.

Her smile lifts her lips, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Nothing," she says, biting her lip as I take her hands from the necklace she's pulling tight, the warm coin now pressing between us.

"What Ness? Tell me." I have a fleeting thought of her regretting her goodbye to Luca flashing in my mind. It's the kind of thought that Dr. Carmen really encourages me to fight, but it's hard to fight your own toxic thoughts.

She shrugs, still looking down. "Sorry, I'm just thinking about the last time I was here. My mom brought Luca and me after an obstetrics appointment, we had lunch around the corner and we tossed a coin and I promised myself I'd bring the baby back here one day."

I feel a hollowed out pit growing inside me. She said she told him goodbye yesterday. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe she needs him and the memories he has to offer her. Maybe she needs him instead of me, either for just the procession we're going to take in an hour or two, or she needs him for much more than just a trip to their baby's tomb.

I love her and it almost kills me, but I have to offer, "You can go with Luca to the cemetery if you want. I don't have to go."

My voice betrays me, squeaking as I offer. I feel like throwing up at the thought of her leaning on him, instead of me.

She stops in front of me, looking up at me. "Oh god, no. That's the last thing I want, baby. I really… I… I really don't have any feelings for Luca. Whatever romantic notion I held that we shared something … it's gone. Maybe it's just been the passage of time, but it think it's just you, Jake. You're all I need in this life. Sei il grande amore della mia vita, Jacob, you are the love of my life. "

Her hand reaches up, a finger tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "I don't know what I did to deserve you Jake, but every single day of my life I'm grateful. Every day. It's just hard to think about his tiny little face."

Her eyes are brimming but she's refusing to cry here in such a public setting. I don't want to see her cry anywhere, ever.

Feeling a million miles away from the tourist filled courtyard at the foot on the world's most famous fountain, a million miles from our home, I'm just holding her by the hips, trapping her water-logged sunshine eyes with mine. We could be alone on top of T'ist'ilal's cliffs for all I know. All I see is this little woman in front of me, and she's hurting, and I want to make her happy.

"Do you not want to go?" I ask. If not Luca then it must be Angelus. Or the feeling going to visit his grave will undoubtedly stir up.

I don't want her to go to the cemetery just because she thinks I want to. I don't. I mean, I'll go with her, but I don't have a driving need to visit the grave of a dead baby and to see Ness in tears.

She shrugs again, shaking her head, "Yes… No… I don't know," she whimpers wrapping her arm around my middle, pressing her face into my sweaty shirt. She inhales, for some weird reason getting a kick out of my sweaty smell. Whatever helps.

"Mmm, God you smell good," she mumbles into my shirt.

"You're changing the subject."

"I know."

"Do you want to go to the cemetery Ness? It's okay if we don't and it's okay if we do." I offer, wrapping my arm around her as we stand at the foot of the fountain, the occasional small splash cooling our sweaty, exercise-warmed skin. "It's for you Renesmee, whatever you need sweetheart, we'll do whatever you want."

She doesn't answer me, just drops her hands from around me and pulls back a little.

"Ness?" I ask as she reaches up, her arms bending behind her head as she fiddles with the chain around her neck. I don't even know if she's heard me she seems so lost inside her thoughts.

"Yes," she answers finally, meeting my eyes briefly before glazing over again. "I want to go to the cemetery." She starts to tear up, the little silver angle pendant falling away from her throat. "I want you to meet my angel. I want to bring him back here. And I want to let him go."

"Ness…" I caution as she prizes one of my hands off her hip and turns it over, palm up. She places the little angle pedant in my hand.

"I want to leave this here," she says. "Angelus needs this more than I do and I don't need something from Luca any more. That chapter's over."

"I don't know sweetheart, you don't have to do this," I say, pressing the pendant back into her hand. If it's going in the fountain she has to be the one to toss it.

This is her journey.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to, Jake. I think I need to." She leans her body into me, using me as her pillar of support, her angel filled palm scrunched up in a ball as she clings to the cherry pendant still hanging by her heart.

"I promised I'd bring him back here," she mumbles against my shirt, her words vibrating on my skin. "And I'm keeping the promise. This way I can imagine him in the water, lost in a fantasy of Roman gods and horses coming to drink. The sounds of the water as it splashes and trickles, the sun warm and brilliant shining down."

Her eyes are overflowing now, two great big drops falling in a zigzag pattern down her porcelain cheek. The red little geranium is still hanging limply above her ear. She's like a more beautiful version of the statues above us.

"Help me?" she whispers, holding the angel pendant between our hands, the warm, old tarnished coin she gave me earlier clinking with the shiny, valuable silver.

I nod, and together we turn our back to the water. "Together," she says pulling our joined hands up to her lips, kissing the space between our palms. It's long and obviously painful for her—it's painful for me to watch—she presses her lips to our skin, caramel and cream, pausing for several seconds before pulling way.

"Bye-bye baby," she whispers. Our hands fling up, tossing the two discs over our shoulders, into the mere behind.

We move, sitting around the side of the fountain in a hot and sunny part of the piazza. I've pulled her onto my lap as she weeps giant hacks into my shoulder and I hold her to me, my large hands fanning over tiny ribs. There are no words, only she can get over this. Her sadness is contagious however and I fall into memories of my own loss, of my parents. My own tears are trying to push though. I miss my dad, his death is still raw and sometimes it hits me hard. Like now.

Ness holds me tight, pulling her breasts against my chest as we breathe in sync. We're like two lost souls, adrift at sea who have found each other as life preservers. We cling together, holding one another afloat on the busy streets of Rome.


We sit like this, wrapped around each other for several minutes, it's probably close to twenty minutes before we stop. My tears have dried already, I'm in a good place with my bipolar, I think everyone expected me to go nutso after dad died, but the medication is good, and the talk therapy is good, and I'm good. I can be good for Ness as she travels this hard road. I wipe her tears with the side of my thumbs and kiss her sweetly, my hands cupping her face. "Better?" is ask as my lips pull back.

She nods, smiling—it reaches her eyes, "You?"

"Yep, I haven't had a good cry for weeks."

This trip has been great, but there have been times where I just wanted to be home. I want to be able to sneak into his room and curl up on his bed. I didn't let the girls change the sheets and it still smells like him. At least it did before we left for Europe. Dr. Carmen says it's healthy to let stuff out, the trick is to use the tears as a balm and to no tell them consume you.

"Cathartic isn't it?" her forehead leaning on my shoulder as we look around to the crowds admiring the fountain.

The little red flower she has behind her ear is crushed and dulled now, from where it was pressed to my chest. I reach up, puling the limp lifeless thing out and show it to her. I think I'll keep it and press it in a book until it's dried.

"Doing anything with you on my lap is stimulating," I say, trying to lighten the mood so that it matches with the light, breezy, sunny day.

It will not consume me.

She just snickers, shaking her head and unwinding her legs from my lap.

"So much for keeping our heart rate up," Ness says as I stand, taking her by the hand.

"Nothing's stopping us from doing a sprint back to the hotel." I kind of feel like running off my woes.

She looks up at me, one eye brow arched, "we've never raced before, I might just give you a run for your money."

"Don't have any," I shrug, a teasing gilt in my eye. "I just threw it all in the fountain. And anyway, your little tiny legs are no match for my stilts."

Hand in hand we weave through the crowd, away from the piazza and down some more maze like cobble stones laneways. Ness has her phone and she checks it then looks up at me, "you may have bean pole legs Mr. Black, but don't forget that I can do the splits, and that exponentially increases the length of my stride."

"Is that a challenge Miss Cullen?"

"I believe it is," she nods, her face still a little blotchy from the earlier tears but her eyes showing no sight of the sorrow she just released. "GO!" she shouts, abruptly taking off into a full sprint. I keep stride with her easily. I'm over a foot taller than her, even with her crazy flexibility, she can't out run me. But I let her take the lead— I have no idea where we're going. At Nessie's full sprint pace we run left and then right then left again through the narrow streets.

It seems like such a random route to take, the backs of cafes and trattorias, we sprint past a little old lady sweeping out her front stoops. She calls out to us in a strong, yet aged voice as we rush past in a stream of giggles and hoots, the release from earlier lifting us to a hypomania. I'm aware of the feeling but it's not over taking me yet. I might be cycling up, but I've decided to just go with it right now. Even the good will not consume me.

We turn into an even smaller alley, there's washing hanging from windows above and more little flowers in little pots in window sills and front doorways. Still, I follow her, I'd follow her anywhere. With nothing but the background noise of the Roman streets, our labored breathing and our synchronized foot falls on the cobble stone paths, I follow her. Finally, after several minutes at a fast run she slows, coming to a walk as the narrow alley opens out to the old crumbling brick of the back of the Pantheon, our starting point.

In just over an hour –almost half of it her saying good bye to her lost child— Ness has managed to show me almost all the best sights of this overwhelming city. She's amazing. I like it here.

"I won," she puffs, bending over with hands on her hips, her lungs heaving for breath, her long plat falling over her shoulder.

"Whatever," I smile, "you totally know I let you win." I should at least pretend to be puffed.

She stands straight, eyes wide in mock disbelief, "you did not."

"You want me to prove it?" There's a challenge in my voice as we enter the piazza del Rotunda. "I'll give you a head start," I offer. My cheeks are pulling tight, I can feel the twinkle in my own eye.

Ness turns and walks backwards at me for a bit. "What do I get if I win?"

I shake my head, "not gunna happen."

"What if you win?" She's playing my teasing game, her hand on her hip, flexing and boosting her hourglass figure in those shorts.

"You'll just have to find out," I say, my tongue clinking in the back of my teeth. "Get going," I call, ushering her with my hands and she spins skipping ahead.

I follow, straight on her heels and she squeal's as she looks over her shoulder to see me right there. "Where's my head start?" she laughs loudly.

"Changed my mind," I say, gripping her with both hands and lifting her up. With the crowds in the Piazza all staring, Ness yelps and cackles as I toss her over my shoulder, slapping her ass for show as we enter the hotel foyer.

"It's a tie," I say shifting her on my shoulder, "we both win the prize." I don't wait for the elevator, taking the steps two at a time, Ness no heavier that our suit cases as I carry her caveman style.

"I love you," she says, smacking me on the ass. The dark cloud already lifted like a summer storm, harsh and brutal with its onslaught, but fleeting and fickle. It's cleansing and refreshing, and before long, clearing to a bright sunny day.


"I wish you'd tell me where we're going, I could help speak to the conductor." She's acting all annoyed at me, she doesn't like surprises, but she's not really annoyed, she's just a control freak. Don't care, I'm not telling her where we're going yet, she's just going to have to be patient. I want to make this surprise last.

We're at the main train station in Florence, sitting on our luggage as we wait for the 605 on platform three. "It's cool Ness, the ticket machines have English options," I smirk. She really does hate being in the dark about where we're going. But this is my surprise, I've had it planned from when Marie and Tony gave us the tickets after graduation. As soon as I found out about the trip, I've had this secret detour in my head.

We've had a three hour layover between trains, and have just gotten back from the fastest tour of Firenze in the history of tourism itself. We got the best dick shot photo on the statue of David replica that already has 23 likes on Facebook. A hot and heavy, tongue involved kiss on the ponto vaccio. I scoffed some really good pizza from a street vendor and Ness made me try some of her Lampredotto. It look me about four or five attempts to actually work up the nerve to bite into the tripe sandwich, but I did. I hate to admit it, but it actually tasted pretty good. I ended up finishing what she couldn't eat.

So here we are, sitting on our hard cases with a belly full of cow's stomach lining, waiting for a train to a location I'm refusing to reveal. Eventually the train arrives and we board.


It's another three hours on the rural, outer suburban train. The Tuscan scenery flashes by as we travel, the train line weaving behind industrial areas and outlying suburbs. Our last changeover is in La Spezia, we get off at the very small outdoor station and again sit on our luggage once again.

"La Spezia?" she asks, taking out two peaches we bought in Florence, biting into hers and then handing me one.

"Yep," I say, biting into the juicy yellow flesh, the explosion of sweetness covering my tongue.

"La Spezia; as in the largest city from Cinque Terre; as in the five lands of Cinque Terre; the ones that you can hike between that are on my bucket list but I've never managed to make it there... Cinque Terre?!"

"Really?" I say, doing my best to fake ignorance. "Are we near that place?" I take another bite of my peach, inspecting it so to avoid looking at her and inadvertently caving.

She nods, not buying my fake ignorance for one second. We have no secrets Ness and me. I'm surprised I didn't blurt it out the minute I booked the hotel from her lap top when she was taking a shower one night back home.

"Yes. We're very close to the area actually." She chews slowly on her fruit, talking with her mouth full, "I'd say this is the best place to catch a train there, now that I think of it." She shuffles her ass on the suit case, wheeling it just that little bit closer to me and swallowing. "Please, please, please tell me we're going to Cinque Terre!" Her hands are linked together, a half-eaten peach between her palms in a begging plea.

I don't get to answer her, the Italian announcement of out train's arrival interrupting us. Ness listens, squealing and jumping up and nearly knocking me off my suitcase seat as she launches herself at me for a hug. "Oh my god, I love you. I love you. I love you so much. Oh god, Jacob you are the most amazing human being on the face of this earth."

I'm being smattered by peach scented kisses. Sticky and sweet and simply perfect. The perfect reward for my surprise. I stand, pulling her up with me and holding her still for a second to give her a decent kiss before pulling back. "Come on," I smile, lifting the sticky handle thing on my case up and nodding towards the now stationary train and taking another bite. "Let's try to get a seat on the left side, apparently the views from the train line are extraordinary."


The views are extraordinary. The trip is just over an hour long; miles of tunnels of darkness or rocky cliff faces to then be suddenly flashed into the sunlight of the Ligurian Sea. Vivid azure blue breath-taking ocean just out the window as the train travels on the edge of the volcanic cliff face before we're launched back into a dark tunnel again.

We get off the train at Monterosso, the station is up a story higher than the shore line and from the ticket booth there is an uninterrupted view of the prefect sapphire blue sea once again.

With luggage in tow, we start up the cobblestone road that leads to the old part of town. The hotel is an out of the way albergo, set a few blocks back from the rocky beach. Even though it's only a few blocks back, it's still in the last, little lane in this tiny little beautiful fishing village.

The building is nestled into the rugged, cliffy countryside that the town is built into. I help Ness lift our cases up the half flight of stairs leading to the reception area.

We're greeted by a middle aged Italian woman behind the counter, she puts down the novel she's reading, greeting us with a "ciao come stai?"

Ness starts into the Italian, conversing and laughing with the lady while I try to follow along. But it's hard and they talk too fast.

With a smile, a handful of brochures and a little brass key attached to a big plastic toggle, we make our way up to find our room.

It's a lot smaller than any of the ones we've stayed in so far on this trip. In fact it's so small that there is only just enough room to walk around the bed and one little shelf for one of our suitcases. It's all I could afford. It's expensive here in high season. But it's ours and it's from me. I've wanted to pay her back for all the things she's given me for such a long time. This is a good start. It's got a bathroom, a bed, and a beautiful view. It's all we need. All I want is the bed, the view is an added bonus. And what a bonus.

There are double doors at the end of the bed. I push open the storm doors, the sound of the church bells is suddenly louder this side of the glass. "Wow," I breathe, calling out over my shoulder, "check this out, Ness."

She climbs over the mattress, standing on the end, and for once, taller than me. She leans her elbow on my shoulder. "This is amazing Jake," she whisper-smiles into my ear, the awe and affection and general love of life shining in her sweet mixed-continental voice, "you did good babe, you did really good."

We step out on the balcony, it's no more than three feet wide and maybe four feet long. But the view from up here is so cool, it overlooks the entire town, a palate of terracotta tiles, and golden cream plastered terrace houses haphazardly placed like a cubist painting rolled into an impressionist landscape.

"The lady in reception said that there is garden behind the hotel that all the guests have access to. We should check it out," she says as we look out over the town and to the monastery up the side of the wooded cliffs to our right. My chest is pressed to her back, my arms caging her in as I lean my hands on the railing and we breathe in sync.

With our luggage still packed and the bed unused, we head up to the top floor and follow the signs to the garden.

The rear external door slams behind us with a heavy bang as we find our way outside. Up and up my eyes go, looking higher and higher, to rows of trees and plants, searching up for what looks like acres of terraces. They're like steps made for Gulliver himself, the terraces lead up the mountain above us as far as the eye can see. The rock seeded path zigzags back and forth, winding up the edible garden—and we're free to roam it all.

Ness is off, skipping up the dug-out stairs that are lined with large flat rocks. She points out all the different herbs that are planted in large square beds; oregano and sage, a great big expanse of basil lined with marigolds. I run my hand along a large bush of rosemary, the thin arm like needle projections almost as tall as Ness. I smell my hand, the pine mustard scent reminding me of the herbed bread Nessie's mom made for breakfast the morning of Renesmee's birthday.

"Figs!" she squeals, reaching up on tippy toes to reach the ripening fruit as it hangs off a low branch.

I catch up to her, reaching up and picking a few more that are up higher. "I've never had figs." I'm not sure if I want to either; they kind of look like testicles hanging off the branches.

"Oh, here then," she says, her fingers splitting the fruit in half. I inwardly cringe as the little sack shapes get opened up, the flowery like pink insides opening out as she hands me a half. "You can eat it skin and all." I see the light in her eyes, as she looks up at me expectantly, she loves watching my reaction to new things. I love experiencing new things with Ness by my side.

So I suck it up and bite into the pinky-purple fruit, it's warm from the afternoon sun, and the mildly sweet fruit is a mixture of soft flesh, crunchy seeds and chewy smooth skin. "S'good," I mumble through a mouthful of scrot like fruit.

She nods and smiles then moves on up a few steps to the next terrace, veering off the narrow path and ducking under the lichen branches of the small olive grove that's here.

I follow her, reaching up and picking a ripe looking olive off and popping it in my mouth. I bite into the firm flesh and immediately I spit it out, "fuck that's disgusting," the bitter, woody taste coating my teeth.

Ness looks at me over her shoulder, laughing and swinging on a branch, the picturesque town of Monterosso Al Mare beneath us. "You can't eat them raw Jake they have to be salted and cured first."

I spit out a little bit more, it's really a very heinous taste, "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't" she sooths, jumping down from her swinging branch and taking me by the hand. "Let's get you something to fix it."

We walk hand in hand up another terrace, still more olive trees and then swing around and up to a vegetable garden area. There are stakes of tomatoes and beans, rows of lettuce and vines of zucchini still in flower.

I stuff my face with a few little tiny grape tomatoes that were hanging ripe on the plant in a cluster, the sweet tangy flavor busting in my mouth and expelling the bitterness from before.

"Better?" she smiles, stepping up on a half wall of piled rocks and leaning over to kiss my tomato-ie lips.

"Much," my hand cups over her little jaw to pull her back in for one more sweet press.

We pull apart and she stands and looks over the scene before us as the church bells starts to toll again. It's a never ending thing over here. Bells to say good morning, bells to say good night, bells to say come to church, bells to say just about any sort of announcement. Bells to say Jake and Ranessa are kissing.

I look around the valley we're in, the mountains either side of us. It's a beautiful view from up here, we really are above the town, all the crammed together houses leading down to the rocky beach and the blue ocean beyond. I can see the monastery to our right more clearly from up here. "I wonder if we could go see up there," I say pointing to the large crucifix that's standing tall at the top of the outcrop the other side of the high side of the basin.

I get no answer and turn around to find Ness no longer standing behind me. "Ness?" I yell out.

"Up here!" comes her voice from somewhere in the grove of trees above.

I jump up another terrace level, through plants of lavender and nasturtium, there is a little roughly paved area with a small table set up to allow guests to admire the view. There is a network of wire frames with grape vines rambling overhead so I step up another terrace to look around but I'm still unable to see her.

"Ness?!"

"Up here Jake, come up here!" I take the next steps up in a single giant step, into a lemon tree grove and then above me further still until finally, I see her. A little five foot one woman in a pair of white capris and an olive green shirt at the top of a twenty foot tree. A cherry tree.

"Oh my god, Jake! Come up here! You've got to come up here. This is amazing," she exclaims, her eyes ablaze as she looks down at me as I reach the base of the tree she's in. "Can you believe this?" she calls out, "I'm at the top of a cherry tree, picking the best fruit."

I don't know how the hell she's gotten up there. Or how fast.

"Jump" she calls out.

So I do, my hands reaching up and I pull myself up, and start the climb. Ness reaches her cherry pink stained hand out to me as I near the top and I take it, more as a gesture of support and trust than to use her as an actual prop—I'm pretty sure I'd pull her out of the tree if I used her to lift myself up. I sit myself on a forked branch Ness on one side of the main trunk, me on the other. I don't really trust these branches, there is a small wind but the tree is still swaying back and forth, the occasional little cherry falling from the branches above, one hitting me on the shoulder and I catch in against my shirt popping it in my mouth.

"Good, hey?" she asks, swinging behind a branch and stepping on the one I'm sitting on. She leans over me, looking at me the wrong way up. Just the little cherry pendant hangs from her neck now. It falls down, tapping against her upside-down jaw. Her smile is content and loving, her hair a tangled mess of copper as it hangs down in a wave of ringlets.

"Told you the best fruit is at the top; you have to work for it, you have to wait for it." She has a few more cherries in her hand and pops one in her mouth and reaches out to give me one more too. "You're worth the wait too sweetheart… but it's no work," she smiles with cheeks full. "Love you, thank you for bringing me here."

I reach up, tipping my head back and kissing her cherry lips. "You are most welcome tiny dancer. Ti amo con tutta l'anima." She beams at my attempt to profess my heart and soul. I think I said it right.

I've been practicing that one for ages.


Translation: I love you with all my soul.

Thanks for reading folks. One more chapter to go.

For everyone who got a blank PM from me the last few chapters, sorry about that glitch. I think I've figured it out and you'll get actual messages from me if you review this chapter.

I suppose that means you'd better review to find out! ;-D

Ciao, Marina.