Chapter 17

I sat by the pool at dusk, reading Piero's copy of Looking for Alaska and luxuriously dangling my feet in the cool rippling water. As the daylight faded around me, I closed the book and set it aside, staring up at the sky as the moon slowly revealed itself.

"La luna hizo esto…fue culpa de la luna… la la la la la la la…"

How did it go?

I turned and looked though the window of Piero's house, and was surprised to see him inside, standing at the stove while he stirred something and peered intently into the pot.

I excitedly pulled my feet from the pool and stood up, leaving wet footprints on the cement as I scurried toward the house, grabbing my shoes from a pool chair as I went.

"Piero!" I called happily as I entered the cool air of the house.

He turned from the stove and grinned, setting down the spoon beside the pot.

I hurried over to him through the living room, dropping my shoes on the kitchen floor and running into his arms. He hugged me tightly and kissed me, then lifted me up to sit on the cabinet. I wrapped my legs around his waist and reached for his face, pulling him close to me so I could kiss him again. When I pulled back, he wrapped his arms around my back to keep me steady as I leaned over to peer into the pot.

"What are you making?" I asked, and he smiled brightly.

"Duck stew."

"Sounds good!"

"Here. Try it."

Piero stepped away from me and dipped a spoon into the stew, then held it up above his other palm and blew gently on it. He slowly returned to me and spooned it into my mouth as I wrapped my legs around him again.

"Mmmm! Very good, Piero! It's delicious!"

He triumphantly kissed me on the cheek and returned to the pot.

"Piero?"

"Hmm?"

"How does that song about the moon go?"

He smiled and glanced up at me as he began to sing.

"La luna hizo esto…fue culpa de la luna…haberme enamorado….enamorado de ti…"

I pushed myself off of the cabinet and went up to him, slipping my arm around his back and standing with him at the stove. He wrapped his arm around me as he sang, dividing his attention between me and the pot.

When he finished the song, he pulled two bowls down from the cabinet and filled them with stew, handing one to me.

We went to the table and I sat across from him, leaning on my arm and studying his face, observing the handsome eyes, long lashes, and sweet smile.

"Piero," I said, "Tell me about your day at the studio."

He smiled brightly.

"Well," he said, adjusting his red framed glasses, "Ignazio and I decided to have some fun with the mic, so we went into the sound booth…"

Piero eagerly filled me in on his antics in the studio, his eyes sparkling and his impish smile reflecting in my eyes. I was laughing as I listened to him describing the shenanigans he pulled with Ignazio.

When he finished with his stories, he smiled and watched me laugh, and then said, "Your turn, mi amor. Tell me about your day."

"I did already, at the studio."

"No, I want more than that. I want to know everything, if you're willing to tell me."

I paused for a second, seeing the earnest curiosity in his eyes, then I smiled and nodded.

"All right. When I got there this morning, they told me that there was a new child, a little boy. He has this soft blonde hair and big blue eyes, and when I went to his room he looks up at me and says, "Well, hello ma'am, what can I do for you today?" "

Piero laughed, and I smiled and filled him in bit by bit on the progress of all the children I looked after. He listened intently, his eyes shining and his smile disarming, seemingly hanging onto my every word.

When I finished my last story, he reached out across the table and I placed my hand in his. He squeezed it and smiled at me.

"You're a great nurse, Julia."

I smiled shyly.

"Well…I'm not a nurse yet. The doctors are the ones who do the real work. I just help."

Piero shook his head.

"I've been with you at the hospital, Julia. You're a big part of the reason those kids are getting better."

I fell silent, thinking about this. Piero stood up from the table and took my empty bowl. He smiled at me and came around the table to tenderly kiss my temple before going to the sink. I watched him for a moment before realizing I left Looking for Alaska by the pool.

"I'm going get the book I left outside," I said, heading for the back door.

"Hurry back," he remarked, and then started to sing, "La luna hizo esto…fue culpa de la luna…" I walked very slowly toward the door, clinging onto the handsome song before I turned and faced the real moon. I closed the door behind me and walked barefoot over the cool cement to the book. I reached down and picked it up, then looked up at the glowing moon, which shone down on me, the stars winking around it.

I clutched the book to my chest and softly began to sing, "La luna hizo esto…fue culpa de la luna…haberme enamorado, enamorado de ti!" When I finished singing what I knew, I sang it again, smiling up at the night sky. Then I turned and hurried back into the house, back to Piero.

I stopped when I saw what he was doing.

"Piero?"

He was folding sheets neatly on the couch, and setting up new, fluffier pillows on it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making a bed for you."

I set the book down on the table and then watched him quietly, thinking.

"Piero."

"Hmm…?"

He kept folding the sheets.

"Piero."

I spoke firmly, and he stopped and looked up at me.

"Julia?"

He left the sofa and came quickly to me, taking both of my hands in his.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't stay here."

"What?"

"I can't stay overnight."

He was dumbstruck, staring blankly at me.

"Why not?"

"Because…well…"

I took my hands from him and fidgeted.

"You can tell me," he said, and I looked up at him. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"It's not right. It's…it's… it's cohabitation, isn't it?"

He was quiet.

"I mean… Ray lives with my mom, and I hate that. I despise it. When I was a kid, my mom's boyfriend, my father, lived with us, and I hated that too. It's cohabitation, and I…I despise it. I should be able to take of myself, and as long as I'm up and able-bodied, I should take be able to find my own place to stay. I need you, Piero. I need your help, and I need you to be my confidant, like you said. I need you, but…it can't be like this. Not when I'm strong and healthy and capable of living on my own. I can't live here."

He was quiet, his lips moving wordlessly, searching for a response.

"You slept here last night," he observed at last, and I shook my head. "What!?" he asked, alarmed. He grabbed my hands. "Julia, then where did you go!?"

I sheepishly looked up at him, "Home."

"Back with Ray and your mother!?"

I nodded, and he immediately reached for my face, turning it sideways as if looking for marks.

"It's okay, Piero!" I protested, reaching up to push away his hand. "I didn't get hurt. I left really late, and Ray was asleep already. I'm fine, Piero! Nothing happened!"

He looked scared, and he pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms around me.

"When I woke up I assumed…that you left early to go to work! I didn't think that you had gone home! Julia, you can't go back to that house!"

"But Piero, I can't stay here! Not overnight. The whole night, anyway."

Piero sighed and thought about this.

"I guess you're right," he admitted softly, "I thought…since it was special circumstances…"

"I know, Piero. I don't blame you. It just wouldn't feel right to me, given everything that I've been dealing with…Not that you'd be…bad to live with or anything…"

He laughed and kissed my temple as he rubbed my back soothingly.

"All right, then where will you go?"

"Well…home, I guess."

"No, Julia. How about a hotel?"

"No. Too expensive."

"Money doesn't matter to me."

"No. You'd still be providing me with a place to live, and I don't like it."

"Any relatives, then?"

"They live far away, all the way back in Florida."

"Friends?"

"Not anyone I could ask to live with! And I can't ask to stay at a friend's house without telling them what's going on."

He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Piero."

"What choice do you leave me, Julia? I don't know what to do! I can't let you go back to that house!"

"Piero, listen." I reached up and gently touched his face, and immediately had his full attention. He stared, mesmerized, into my eyes. "As long as I go back after he's asleep, I won't get hurt."

He quickly shook his head.

"No."

"Piero, it's only for a few more days, until we find a good apartment, right?"

"Julia, you…I…"

"Piero, I've lived in that house for months."

He gulped, and I saw his eyes shimmer and look wet.

"Months?" he asked softly, and I nodded.

"I've lived there for months, and a few more days don't make much of a difference."

He stared at me, and then shook his head.

"You don't mean that, do you?" he asked. "Julia, you look scared. You don't want to go back, either."

"It's only for a few more days," I said. "Tomorrow's Friday, and we'll have the whole weekend to find an apartment."

"Yes," Piero said, "I want you to get a new apartment as soon as possible, but I don't want you to have to go back to that house."

"It's only for a few more nights. As long as I go back late at night, he'll be asleep, and I'll be fine. It'll be okay, Piero."

He looked uneasy, and squeezed my hands as he looked at me nervously.

"If Ray wakes up, I'll leave. And I'll leave early in the morning and come back here, to your house, to show you I'm okay."

He frowned, and I leaned forward and kissed him for a long moment, and he pulled me tightly to him.

"I just want you to be safe," he whispered when I pulled back.

"I'll be fine."

"Stay here for a while longer."

"I will. I won't leave until it's much later."

He was quiet, and then kissed my cheek and went off somberly to do the dishes. I watched him. He was deep in thought, and he was chewing on his tongue as he brooded. I quietly pulled the sheets off of the sofa and gently folded them. I set them on the coffee table and looked over at Piero. I watched him stack the dishes in the dishwasher to dry and pull the towel off its rack. I crossed the room and went over to him to hug him. He tossed the towel aside and held me to him, kissing me.

"I love you," I said softly, looking up at him.

He smiled softly and kissed me tenderly.

"I love you, too."

Piero got out his guitar and sat on the sofa with me. He played around with it for a few minutes before beginning to play an actual song.

I scooted close to him and watched his fingers move around on the strings, and looked up at his face as he began to sing.

"We'll do it all…everything…on our own…"

He looked down at his fingers on the strings, and I watched his face as he played and sang, intently looking down at the guitar.

"If I lay here…If I just lay here…Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

He looked up at me, and I was lost in his eyes and sweet smile. His voice was powerful and sweet, and it enveloped me in the beauty of his song. I was mesmerized by the music, and I leaned on my arm, watching him in fascinated silence.

When he finished, he was looking down at the guitar, and I couldn't resist leaning over and kissing his cheek before he could look up. He smiled and set the guitar down beside him on the sofa.

He moved off of the sofa onto the floor, pushing the coffee table out of the way with his foot.

"What are you doing?" I giggled, and he reached up and eagerly took my hand, tugging on me.

"Come here," he pleaded, and I moved to the floor with him. He sat me in front of him, his chest against my back and his legs extended on both sides of me.

He wrapped his arms around my middle and cuddled me for a moment, then reached back and took the guitar from the sofa. He gently pulled back my hair and set the guitar in front of me, resting it on my lap. I gingerly reached up and felt the smooth wood, slowly running my hand down the strings to hear the sound. He looked over my shoulder and watched me.

"Have you ever played a guitar?" he asked.

"No, never."

"I taught myself. I thought it was a gorgeous instrument. See, these are called frets," he said, guiding my hand to the sections on the neck. "You press down different strings and it plays different chords. It's not too hard."

He played a few chords, and I watched his fingers pressing into the strings.

"Let me try," I said, reaching for the neck.

"Here," he said, showing me where to put my fingers. "That's a C chord. It's the easiest."

I strummed it with my hand and winced. I pressed harder on the strings and tried again. Better, but still not good. Not nearly as pretty as Piero's strumming.

I removed my hand from the neck and looked at the lines in my fingers from the strings.

"It hurts your fingers," I observed. "Does it hurt you?"

"Not anymore. You build up calluses after a while."

He held up his hand, and I gently took it in mine and looked over his fingers, feeling the tips.

"What about at first? What happens before you get calluses?"

"Yikes, it's painful at first. My fingers used to bleed, I would play so much."

"Oh, goodness! Really!?"

"Yes. But I loved it. Learning to play, that is. I felt so cool, being able to strum the guitar, even though I could barely play anything."

"And now…" I said, turning to smile at him. He grinned back.

"Now I can play things!"

"And you're great!" I said. "Will you play something else?"

He immediately adjusted his fingers on the frets and pressed the guitar against me, pressing me against him.

"Tell me if you know the songs," he said, and I nodded. I watched his hands as he began to play, and smiled softly when he began to sing, his magnificent voice right next to my ear.

"I can't stand to fly…I'm not that naïve…I'm just out to find…the better part of me…I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than some pretty face beside a train!"

"Superman!" I identified, and he nodded and changed songs.

"Where do I begin…"

"Love story."

He laughed softly and sang a little more before switching.

"There's a fire starting in my heart…reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark…!"

"Rolling in the deep! You like Adele?"

"I'm crazy about Adele!" he said as he readjusted his fingers. "I'd love to see her in concert!"

He moved onto the next song.

"Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine, my darling dear, love you all the time…"

I was quiet, not recognizing the words, and he kept playing.

"I don't know," I said finally.

He pressed his hands over the strings to stop the sound and kissed my cheek, making me smile.

"Earth angel. It's kind of an old song, but very relevant." He adjusted his fingers on the guitar. "Listen to this one. It's called Vanilla Twilight, and it makes me think of you."

He strummed the guitar a few times, and began to sing, his voice surrounding me and pouring the words of the song into my heart.

"I'll watch the night turn light blue, but it's not the same without you, because it takes two to whisper quietly…The silence isn't so bad, till I look at my hands and feel sad, 'cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly…"

I leaned back against him, feeling his chest rising and falling against me, and the guitar keeping me in place, prompting me to listen. Warmth radiated through the fabric of his clothes, and his shirt was soft, as always. His lips were right beside my ear, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

"…I'll sit on the front porch all night…Waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don't feel so alone…"

When he finished the song, he sighed and stopped the ringing of the strings. Silence filled the air, and I leaned back against Piero, listening to the strange new quiet.

"Julia," he murmured, and I immediately knew what he was thinking, "Julia, I don't want you to go back to the house."

"I'll be okay, Piero," I said softly.

"I'm scared for you."

"I won't get hurt. He'll be asleep."

"Julia…"

"I'll be here first thing in the morning to show you I'm okay."

He was quiet, and then slowly began to strum the guitar again.

"Where do I begin…To tell the story of how great a love can be…?"