They needed to go home. This fact was all too clear to them. The longer they stayed away, the worse the reaction would be. Lucy kept assuring Fabrizo everything would be fine, and he wanted to believe her, but he wasn't totally convinced. Still, he wasn't ready to go, and neither was she, despite what they'd said at the beginning. There would be other trips in the future, more exciting travels to truly faraway places, but this was their first trip together. It would always be the most special.
By the fourth day, they were beginning to settle into a rhythm. Lucy woke up first. She lay in bed, enjoying the light, sleepy feeling in her body. Fabrizo was curled against her back, his arm thrown over her. She felt his soft breath on her neck. If she didn't stir, he might sleep until lunchtime. Carefully, she rolled over so she was facing him. He looked different when he slept, younger somehow. Would that change, she wondered. Would she eventually stop seeing differences in his features? Would she forget what he looked like right at that moment?
As if he felt her gaze, his eyes began opening. "Hey," she said softly.
He grinned. "Hey."
"Did I wake you?"
"No," he said, with a slight shake of his head. "Did you sleep alright?"
"Fine. Did you?"
"You were watching me," he said jokingly. "What do you think?"
"I wasn't watching you," Lucy said.
"You know you were." He propped his head on his hand. "You were staring at me." His grin deepened. "Is it my manly beauty?"
"If I was watching you, it was only for a minute," she replied. "But yes, you looked peaceful."
"I've watched you, a little," he said. "That might sound strange, but I've woken up a few times, and there you were." He looked slightly embarrassed.
"That's not so strange."
"You aren't bothered by it?" he asked.
"No. I don't mind." Lucy smiled. "In fact, I kind of like it."
"I just can't believe you're here when I wake up," Fabrizo said. "I keep expecting it to be a dream, or for you to be gone."
"Why wouldn't I be here?"
"I don't know. Maybe you decided you didn't want to be married to some foreign guy after all," he said. "Maybe you decided this was a mistake."
Lucy pressed her hand against his cheek. "I don't think that, Fabrizo," she said. "I'll never think that. I love you."
He kissed her hand. "I love you too."
Warmth spread over her. Lucy smiled. She couldn't remember when she'd ever smiled more than she had over the past few days. "Let's go have breakfast," she said.
...
Jack and Rose had followed through on their plan to remain away from Chippewa Falls for a while, and as far as Jack was concerned, they wouldn't be returning for a few weeks at least. It never occurred to either of them that Lucy and Fabrizo might be off on an adventure of their own. They hadn't heard from Fabrizo, but Jack didn't take that as cause for alarm. Why bother sending a telegram if there wasn't any news to report?
They were leaving breakfast when Jack said, "I'm gonna send a quick note to let Fabrizo know we won't be back for a little while."
"You don't think he's worried, do you?"
Jack shook his head. "I doubt it. I just think it would be nice of us to let him know. I'm sure he's enjoying having the house to himself. He's never lived alone."
"We have something in common," Rose said. "Neither have I."
"Was that a complaint?"
"Of course not." She slipped her arm through his. "Though I must admit, I am curious as to what it would be like. Imagine doing exactly what you want, whenever you want."
"I've done that."
"Oh yes," she said. "You've been free as a bird for years. I must sound absurd to you."
"Not at all," he said. "I know what you mean, and it's fun for a while. You're right. When you're not lonely, and I wasn't most of the time, not after I got used to it, being by yourself feels great. Peaceful."
"And then I crashed into your life and ruined all that."
"Hey." Jack came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Ignoring everyone else, he gently tilted Rose's head up with one hand. "You didn't ruin anything, Rose."
"I know," she said softly.
"Do you?"
She nodded. "I know, Jack. Don't worry."
"I just...I don't want you thinking like that," he said. "No matter what's happened or what will happen, I'm glad you're with me."
Rose kissed him. "You don't have to convince me. I know I haven't been in the best condition, especially lately, but I'm doing better. I'm alright."
"I can't help worrying." He brushed her curls back. "I'm not trying to smother you, Rose. I remember what you told me the other day. Really. I heard you."
Rose looked into his eyes for a long moment. They seemed to hold the world. "Let's go send that telegram," she said finally. "And then maybe we could go back to the museum for a little while?"
"I'd love that."
...
"This one's nice," Rose whispered. "I love the way the artist used brushstrokes to create depth."
"Yeah, I like that too," Jack whispered.
They stood in a cavernous room. Each wall held a large painting. There were benches in the middle, so visitors could study the paintings comfortably, but they were standing close, so they could see every detail. Jack was overwhelmed by the sheer talent in front of him. Never would he be able to paint anything even close to this, not if he spent his whole life trying. And yet, rather than making him want to give up, these paintings made him more determined to keep going, to find his own voice.
"I've never seen anything quite like this." Rose stepped back to get the whole effect. "There's something familiar, but I can't figure out what."
"I know what you mean. I feel like I've seen it somewhere too. Maybe in Paris?" he offered helpfully.
"You might have. I didn't get to spend much time looking at art when I was there. No, I don't think that's it." She shook her head. "Well, I don't suppose it matters."
"Maybe you'll remember later."
"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe I dreamed something like it. My favorite paintings always remind me of dreams."
"Dreams you've had?" Jack asked.
"And just dreams in general," she replied. "The dream state, that surreal feeling you have when things aren't quite as they should be, but you don't know why."
"Or like when you're dreaming, and unfamiliar things are familiar? Until you wake up," he added with a chuckle. "And you wonder what you were thinking."
Rose nodded. "Exactly like that."
"I wish I could paint your dreams," he said thoughtfully. "I'll bet they'd be interesting."
"You could paint yours."
"I don't remember too many," he said. "Maybe I could teach myself to remember."
"You could write down everything you remember as soon as you wake up," she said. "I'll tell you my dreams, if you'd like. The good ones."
"You can tell me the bad ones too, you know."
"I'd rather not think about them," she said.
Jack took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"I wish you could come in with me sometimes."
"Whenever you're afraid just think of me. Focus on me, and I'll be there," he said.
"Jack, you can't really come into my dreams," Rose said.
"No, not really," he agreed. "But dreams come out of our heads, don't they? So, why couldn't thinking of me work?"
"I'll try it." She gave a half shrug. "Who knows? You may be on to something."
Jack wanted to ask if she was still having nightmares, but he resisted the urge. He was giving her space. He wasn't smothering her with overprotectivness. He was supporting, not shielding. That's what she needed. That's what she asked for. Still, he hated the thought of her suffering, especially because of Cal. He didn't deserve a second thought, much less even a minute of lost sleep.
"What do you say we go out tonight?" Jack suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I wanna take you out," he said. "We'll have a nice dinner, and we'll go somewhere we can dance. What do you say?"
Rose smiled brightly. "I say yes. I can't think of anything better."
...
The telegram reached its destination, but since Fabrizo was gone, no-one checked for it. And so both couples assumed the others was either still at home or returning soon. Lucy's brothers, meanwhile, were beginning to get impatient. Even Tom, who so far had been advising calm, was feeling the effects of nearly a week with no word from her. It was one thing to run off and get married; at least you came home in a respectable state, but it was quite another to just run off completely.
He consoled himself with the fact that their father was still off in Boston, and by the time he returned in the spring everything, even the trial, would've blown over. He'd still hear about it, but there wouldn't be much he could do. He'd probably get upset, maybe yell a little, but then he'd settle down and see things were still fine. He'd always been a somewhat stern, though reasonable, man, and the death of his wife had softened him considerably.
Tom was wrong, however, though it wasn't his fault. His father's last letter said he would be arriving in the spring. He planned to stay in Boston through the winter and avoid travel difficulties. What were a few more months with family he hadn't seen in years? It seemed like the best decision to everyone.
Until it wasn't. Until he woke up one morning, suddenly homesick, weary for familiar faces and surroundings, and resolved right then and there to make his apologies and leave at the first opportunity. He didn't bother writing his children, figuring a letter wouldn't arrive in time, and they wouldn't know to check for a telegram. It might be brought to them, but why go to the trouble, or put anyone else to it? And surprises were always welcome. He never anticipated the changes that had taken place in his absence. And why would he? Jack's departure was perhaps the only major news Chippewa Falls had seen in at least twenty years.
And so, the elder McCullough arrived on the afternoon train, the very one Tom had hoped would bring Lucy and Fabrizo home.
...
They had dinner in a small, Polish restaurant. The menus were printed with English on one side and Polish on the other. Rose wasn't sure where, exactly, they were. They'd started walking, intending to find a place for dinner, which, at Rose's request, had to be adventurous. Somehow, after a few turns, they'd come upon this place. Jack noticed it first, pointing out the sign to her. "That looks interesting," he said.
She nodded. "Let's see what it's like."
They were welcomed inside and shown to a table in the middle of a crowded dining room. Their companions were a mix of Eastern European immigrants speaking an array of languages, from English to Yiddish. Rose didn't recognize any of the dishes on the menu. She scanned it, hoping something would jump out at her. "What are you having?" she asked.
"I don't know." Jack grinned. "I have no idea what any of this is."
Rose laughed. "That's good to hear."
"Why?"
"Because I don't have any idea either," she said. "And I was afraid to admit it."
"Don't be," he said. He reached across the table and touched her hand. "Isn't that part of the adventure?"
They ordered based on the waiter's recommendations, and they weren't disappointed. "I'm still not quite sure what all of this is," Rose said. "But I'd eat it again."
"Me too."
"I may not be able to dance after this," she warned him. "I can't remember the last time I was so full."
"I don't mind," he replied. "I probably can't either."
"Do you think walking would help?"
"Just might," he said.
...
The city was strange and unfamiliar. Neither of them had ever been there, and they both found their surroundings exciting. The streets were well-lit, and the nightlife was just beginning to stir. They watched as most of the neighborhood came out, dressed in their finest clothes. Young, single people looking for romance, a dance partner, or just to be out and about. Couples wrapped up in one another, walking hand in hand. Here and there they saw a few older children, stragglers who were late getting home.
"This would be a nice place to live," Jack said.
Rose glanced at him. "Are you considering it?"
"No, not really. It was just a thought," he said. "If-When we settle somewhere else, I'd like it to be somewhere like this. Would you?"
"It does seem nice here," she agreed. "It's certainly lively. I don't imagine we would stick out. Does that mean you wouldn't want to live in the country again?"
"I don't know. Probably not. It's been good. I think it was what we needed, but it's not where I wanna be forever. I like knowing we have a place we can go," he added. "Somewhere out of the way, whenever we want it."
"I like that too. Our own haven."
"Hey, look over there," he said. "Could be a good place for dancing. If you're up for it?"
"Let's go," Rose said.
...
Frank walked home, preferring the solitude despite the snow. It was already dark, and the sky was full of stars. Had there been a wind, he might've regretted his choice, but although it was quite cold, he was used to it. The house was dark in the front, but the kitchen windows were lit up. He went in through the kitchen door, where he found Tom, Adam, and Billy, all sitting around the table. They looked up when he came in, and he detected a tension in their poses.
Adam was the first to speak. "Pa?" he said incredulously. "You're home?"
"Indeed I am," Frank said. He shrugged out of his coat, glad to be in the warm house.
"We weren't expecting you back yet," Adam said. "Not for months." He glanced at his brothers. Billy looked confused by this sudden turn of events, while Tom wore a mask of placidity. It hid the turmoil within him.
"I know, and I thought about sending word, but I didn't think it would get here in time," Frank explained.
"What brought you back so early?" Billy asked. "Not trouble with the family?"
"No, nothing like that," Frank said. "I just wanted to be home again." His eyes fell on Tom. "You haven't had a word to say," he went on.
"It's good to see you," Tom said. "I'm glad you made it home alright."
There was something in Tom's eyes; Frank couldn't figure out what it was. He looked around. "Where's your sister?"
...
Fabrizo held out his hand. "May I?"
Lucy smiled and took it. "Yes, you may," she said playfully.
He pulled her closer. His hand settled on her waist, and they found their way into the music. Other couples danced around them, but they didn't notice. "This is how we met," she said.
"Just think if I hadn't asked you to dance."
"Don't you mean if I hadn't said yes?" she said. Her skirt flared out as he twirled her. He pulled her close again, and her stomach fluttered. "I almost did," she added.
"I could tell," he said. "I was hoping you wouldn't."
"Why did you ask me?"
"Haven't we been over this?" he said.
She shook her head. "And even if we have. Tell me again. Please?"
"Alright. I thought you were interesting. You had personality," he said. "And you were beautiful, of course."
Her tone was serious. "Fabrizo, are you sure you want to take me to Sicily?"
"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I? Do you not want to go?"
"I want to," Lucy answered. "I'd love to meet your family and see where you grew up, but do you really think I'll fit in there? There's nothing worldly about me. I haven't traveled like you. I only speak English. What if your family-"
"They will love you," he assured her. "And they speak English. Some better than others, but still, you'll be able to talk with them."
"I don't want you to be ashamed or sorry you brought me."
"Is this about what I said this morning?" he asked.
"No. That reminded me, but I've thought this before." She looked into his eyes. "You know it isn't you I'm worried about. It's not us."
"I know. I think I know what you mean about worrying," Fabrizo said. "There's so many things that could happen. And we know how we feel, but there's still other people and what they think. Even if we don't care..."
"It can matter," Lucy said with a sigh. "Just look at Jack and Rose."
"Those are crazy circumstances," he reminded her. "Unless you've got another husband somewhere?" he joked.
"Do you have a wife in your attic?"
"Why the attic?" he said.
"It was in a book I read once," she replied.
"Sounds interesting."
"It was," she said. "It was really good. I don't think I have it anymore. That's a shame too. We could've read it together."
"Rose might have it. She's got lots of books."
"I haven't lived in the same house with a woman since my mother died," Lucy said thoughtfully. "It'll be nice being around another girl my age, even if it's only for a little while."
Fabrizo kissed her. "When we get home, things will be good," he promised.
They had no way of knowing they'd already stayed away too long, and as they finally packed up and headed out the next morning, it never occurred to them they would be walking into anything but a somewhat reproachful celebration.
AN: It feels really good to be updating this story. I've missed it. I just didn't know where it was going next. I pretty much know the end, I think, but I wasn't sure how all the pieces would come together. It's looking like I do now, and I'm excited! Thanks for reading and being patient!
