Friday, June 11th, 1954
11:50 a.m.
From the Ghirlandaios to the Ghibertis, every painting, every sculpture, every building, Therese had never been surrounded by so much beauty in her entire life. She was overcome by the awe of the images, colors, and depth that brought figures and structures to life. Carol could easily stand back and gleefully watch Therese's expression each time they turned a corner, and that quick photographer reflex to reach for her camera to catch just the right shadow cast from a statue or rooftop onto the sidewalk or the perfect light to photograph an old woman sitting outside a shop.
Carol took a seat in front of the tableau, gripping the edge of the bench as she looked on at Therese standing by the painting. Despite having seen these artworks numerous times, she tried to recapture that feeling of seeing it for the first time, appreciating the art as much as Therese was. Carol had a warm sensation when looking at the subjects, noticing the details of the dresses and petals from the flowers in the foreground. After five minutes, Therese came to sit next to Carol when the man beside her got up.
The exhibition room was silent, only the click of heels on the tile floors and the occasional cough of a docent could be heard in the room full of people shuffling their feet from place to place.
"It's all so beautiful. I want to sit here for days, read, listen to music, and just look up to see - all this." Therese then whispered into Carol's right ear, "Thank you."
"Whatever for?"
"This. Taking me to Europe. Showing me all these things. Exploring new and familiar places with me." Therese glanced back at the artwork, then back around the crowded room. "Let's go get some lunch: I'm starving."
"I know just the place."
Therese looked at the scooter, then back up at Carol. "Do you even know how to ride one of these?"
"Do I… " Carol smiled as she straddled the seat, "of course."
"Can you show me later?"
"Certainly."
Carol patted the back seat and started the ignition. Therese hopped onto the back seat and put her arms lightly around Carol's waist. She remembered how she used to distantly hold onto Richard whenever they rode his bike through Central Park, and how his woolen jacket always smelled so musty that she never wanted to rest her head anywhere near him.
Carol, though, was soft, and moreover, she wanted to feel her, she wanted to put her arms around her. Carol made a small sound and wriggled her hips when the thin, bare arms encircled her. The extra height on the rumble seat allowed Therese to rest her chin on Carol's shoulder. "Is this alright?" Therese asked into her ear.
"Always." Carol let go of the handlebars to smooth down the front of her dress, but to also use it as an excuse to brush her fingertips against Therese's hand pressed against her. Together, they rode outside the city on the little beige Vespa; Therese sweetly holding onto Carol as they drove up the little hills, past family vineyards, and groves of olive trees.
"This it?"
"No one will bother us here." Therese removed her arms from Carol's waist once she turned off the scooter and planted her feet on the ground.
"You sure?"
"Trust me." Carol replied with a wink. Therese opened her shoulder bag, pulling out the bottle of wine Carol had picked out at the market. It was red, their preferred, and upon reading the label, noted it was a Chianti, which she had remembered tasting at lunch with Abby one day. Carol retrieved the packet of figs (first of the season, she'd reminded her) and a chunk of Pecorino from the satchel she carried, as well as a small paring knife.
"Please tell me you have a corkscrew in there too?" Carol grinned then rummaged through the bag to pull one out. "Thanks."
Therese opened the wine and waited to take a sip until Carol stopped slicing the fruit and cheese on the butcher paper. "How'd you know about this spot?"
"Abby told me about it years ago. I'd read over by that tree." Carol gestured over her shoulder to a squat olive tree behind them. "So peaceful, quiet."
"It's nice." She took a sip of wine straight from the bottle. "As is this wine."
"Have a bite of this, then have a sip." Carol held out half of a ripe fig she had just cut.
"You're practically a temptress." Therese looked down at the fruit then back to a smiling Carol. She followed Carol's instructions as she took a bite of fig and a swig of wine.
Therese couldn't explain it. There was something oddly perfect about the day. There was something oddly perfect about the company she kept, the fresh fruit, cheese, and wine, and then Carol beside her in a flowery white sleeveless cotton dress. With her head thrown back and eyes shut, Carol sat, hands flat behind her propping her up as she took in the sun. Outside, in the warm air, amidst the slightest breeze and only the faint sound of traffic far below them, Therese laid on the grass and looked up at the sky, keeping Carol in the corner of her eye.
Therese couldn't stop looking at her. "You are simply breathtaking. Your dress, your hair. Like a painting." Therese said as she reached up to take one of Carol's curls between her fingers, watching it spring back to its original form as she twirled it. "That's it. You look like Flora in Primavera. We just need to add some flowers to your hair."
Carol laughed, "You flatter me."
"What? Do you think you couldn't hold a candle to a Botticelli?" Therese asked.
"You're talking about an artistic masterpiece."
"Don't make me say it," she stated with a most serious expression. The grass was taller in this part of the field, and no one could possibly see them there. In fact, they hadn't seen anyone else walk by in over two hours. Therese pulled her down and placed a kiss against Carol's lips. "There's something about kissing you outdoors." Lost in thought, Carol stroked Therese's shoulder, slipping her fingers beneath the wide straps of her dress to touch her skin. "Maybe it's your warmth from the sunlight before I touch you with my lips."
"Maybe it's the half bottle of wine you've had on nothing but figs and cheese."
"Accept the compliment, Carol."
Carol slowly sat up to take off her shoes, and she removed Therese's as well. "Okay. Compliment accepted." She wiggled her toes around against the grass, but it was almost too ticklish and stopped moving them around. She laid down next to Therese, who then immediately curled into her side and placed her head in the crook of Carol's arm for support. She positioned her hands on her stomach and Carol joined their fingers together.
"I think we made it as far as 'thighs' yesterday." Therese noted.
"You have to admit, we got further than we did with French."
Therese laughed, "I'll never know anything below my bellybutton in French."
With nothing to disturb them in the tall grass, Carol and Therese held onto one another, looking at the sky, and fading in and out of sleep. "Does this feel sort of like a honeymoon to you?" Therese hazily asked. "I mean, was it like this with Harge?" There was only silence from Carol for a good half-minute, and when Therese looked at her, Carol drooped her head to the right, inspecting blades of grass. "I'm sorry, I - "
"No, no 'sorry' from you, darling." Carol affirmed. "I was just thinking how different this is. Very different. Just… remembering." Therese reached to her bag and pulled out two cigarettes, lighting both between her lips and passing one to Carol. "Harge and I never had a real honeymoon. We were already engaged and had planned a big to-do, but then came Pearl Harbor. We ended up getting married in January, and a week later he was deployed."
"Were you disappointed?"
"Certainly." Carol placed the cigarette in her mouth. "My father wasn't: he didn't have to fork over all that cash," she said through the cigarette dangling from her lips. "You always ask about me."
"Well, you're fascinating." she reasoned.
"You tell me something then." Carol tipped the ashes in the now empty wine bottle, squinting at Therese while searching for a good question to ask. Her eye caught the camera bag by her satchel, which reminded her that she never knew where Therese's love of photography came from. "How did you get into photography?"
Therese woefully smiled, thinking back to probably around the same time as Carol married Harge, when she was at the boarding school. She remembered the small gift wrapped package with someone else's name written on the tag having been placed in her lap. The name on it was of an older girl, but she had left about a week before Christmas to move in with her grandfather in Seattle. As she waited for all the presents to be passed out, she expected another one specifically with her name on the tag: however, none came. All the other children were opening their gifts; Therese sat with the present unopened, debating whether or not to rip off the paper. When she finally opened the package after watching all the other children playing with their toys, she was surprised that the items inside were a camera with three rolls of film. A used camera. One of those outdated Eastman Brownie models from the 1920s. Therese was puzzled, wondering what she could do with it, until one of the sisters noticed it in her hands and asked her to take their picture by the tree. She had no idea how to, and certainly couldn't say no, so she figured out how to point and shoot in a matter of moments to make them happy.
"Completely by accident."
Carol finished her cigarette, tossing the end into the wine bottle. "Sometimes accidents are simply meant to be."
"I suppose you're right." Therese said. She sat up, putting her weight on Carol's stomach as she peered over at the beige scooter with which they had ridden up the side of the hill. "So you going to show me how to ride that?"
"I will, but let's wait until we're home."