Seeking Sara Summers Page 8

  The attractive couple approached. “It’s so kind of you to have me,” Sara said to Max, shaking his hand.

  “We’re so glad you took us up on our invitation,” Max said.

  “How was your trip?” Melanie asked, as she gave both Julia and Sara a quick embrace.

  “Perfect,” Sara said.

  “Then you approve?” Melanie asked, motioning as if the train station encompassed all of Tuscany.

  “Yes, definitely,” Sara said.

  Earlier on the train Julia had described Melanie as perpetually perky. Yet this trait seemed to fit her as well as her outfit. It took ten years off her age, and was the only reason Sara might ever attempt perkiness herself.

  “I must warn you,” Max said. “Tuscany is easy to fall in love with.”

  “Well, I was head-over-heels just being in Florence,” Sara said.

  “She’s not exaggerating,” Julia said, as though pleased with her part in the love affair.

  Max directed them to the car. As they walked, he wrapped an arm around Julia. “So what do you two want to do first?” he asked. “Shopping? Lunch? Home for a rest?” He loaded the trunk of a late model BMW with their suitcases.

  “A short rest sounds good to me,” Sara said. Today she had felt more fatigued than usual.

  Julia glanced at Sara. Was she on to her? They traveled one of the most scenic highways in Tuscany yet Sara tightly clutched her bag.

  Julia leaned toward her in the back seat. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “I just can’t believe everything that’s happening,” Sara said. “I haven’t been anywhere and now I’m in Italy. It doesn’t seem real.”

  “It’s real,” Julia said. “And I hope it’s something you can get used to, because we’ve got a lot more to explore.”

  “Definitely,” Sara said. “To be overwhelmed by beauty is a wonderful problem to have.”

  Julia looked at her. “Then why do you look so sad? Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you and Grady all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Sara said. Now wasn’t the time to go into how unsatisfying her life was, especially the part that involved Grady. He hadn’t called once while Sara had been there. Nor had she called him. A fact that Julia probably had noticed.

  At the end of a long dirt driveway they pulled up in front of a large, renovated farmhouse. Its stone walls were the color of the earth, with dark wooden beams accenting the stone. Not in the least bit ‘quaint,’ Sara thought, more like spectacular. They went inside and Melanie showed Sara and Julia to the guest rooms. Sara’s room overlooked the courtyard. The double windows were open wide and drew her toward the view below. It was like a secret garden, lush and luxurious. She put her bag on the nearby chair and breathed in the fresh air. If anything could heal me, this could, she thought.

  A large fountain graced the back wall of the garden, the fountain Julia had referred to earlier in her trip. A life-size statue of the Virgin Mary was the centerpiece of the stone fountain. The fountain was surrounded by robust plants in large, ornate containers. Water trickled from an opening in the wall behind the statue and created a pool at the virgin’s feet.

  I can’t seem to escape her these days, she thought. The Madonna was abundantly reproduced in paintings, tile work, and statuary in Italy. Not only in churches, but on neighborhood buildings, overlooking streets, parks, bridges, tunnels. In the States, she was practically nonexistent, lurking only in the dark corners of Catholic churches.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Sara said, realizing both Melanie and Julia were watching her.

  “We feel very fortunate,” Melanie said as Max delivered their overnight bags from the car. “We’ll leave you to settle in,” Melanie added, “and Max will get busy fixing us some lunch for later.”

  “Must I do everything around here?” Max said.

  Melanie playfully took his arm and led him out of the room. “Come on, you poor man. You have such a rough life.” He whimpered for their amusement.

  After Max and Melanie left, Julia and Sara were alone in the room. “I hope they aren’t too much for you,” Julia said.

  “Your friends are perfectly wonderful,” Sara said. “But I am a little tired.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Julia asked.

  “Sure,” Sara said.

  “Max and Melanie are two of the most genuinely accepting people I’ve ever known,” Julia said. “So don’t feel like you have to be a certain way in front of them. Just do whatever you need to do. We can have a very low key visit, if you’d like.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Sara said.

  “Not thoughtful, I just don’t want you to do something you don’t really want to do.”

  “Well, that’s a change,” Sara smiled. “When we were girls, you had me doing all sorts of things I didn’t want to do.”

  “Like what?” Julia appeared genuinely curious.

  “Let’s see . . . you had me trying out for cheerleader, even though I was a total klutz. And then we joined the marching band because you had a crush on that hunky drum major and wanted to sit with him in the back of the bus on band trips. You even talked Grady into jumping off the high board at the Y. Remember when his swimming trunks fell off when he landed? He won’t get on a high board to this day.”

  Julia laughed. “I suppose I was a little overbearing.”

  “A little?”

  “I’ve changed,” Julia insisted, not looking the least bit repentant.

  “Don’t worry. I always loved you anyway.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring, at least.” Julia gazed at the courtyard below. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely,” Sara said. They stood for several seconds admiring the view. “Get some rest,” Julia said, before turning to walk away, “and I’ll see you in about an hour?”

  “An hour,” Sara repeated.

  Julia disappeared into the guest room next door. Despite the thickness of the doors and walls, Sara could hear Julia’s every move because of the open windows. She listened for a long time, imagining the movements that went with the sounds: luggage unzipped, drawers opening and closing, the closet door echoing the drawers.

  Everything in Sara’s room was an antique and appeared to be carefully chosen to match the period of the farmhouse. A large brass bed dominated the center of one wall, adorned with an ornate quilt, luxurious, yet homey.

  Sara hung up the outfit she planned to wear that evening and gazed down at the courtyard again. The eternal Mary in stone, her arms outstretched, embraced the garden. Sara was intrigued by her. The expression on her face, at least from this angle, appeared to be longing. Sara related to this feeling and suddenly felt tired and lay on the bed.

  An hour later she freshened up in the bathroom upstairs and then joined Julia and Max in the kitchen.

  “How was your rest?” Max asked her. He was preparing a pasta and bean salad in a large ceramic bowl.

  “Wonderful,” Sara yawned.

  “I think her trip to Italy has been a bit overwhelming so far,” Julia said.

  “But in a good way,” Sara said, stifling another yawn. Max and Julia laughed. Max seemed more at home in his kitchen than Sara had ever been in hers. “Where’s Melanie?” Sara asked.

  “At the neighborhood vineyard, getting some wine,” he said.

  “Melanie’s very lucky to have her own personal chef,” Julia said.

  “You’re quite the chef yourself,” Max said to Julia. “Sara, did you know your friend is a marvelous cook?”

  “We had a wonderful brunch a few days ago. Other than that we’ve been eating out every night. But I do remember that when we were girls she could make a great grilled cheese sandwich.”

  “I was an expert at peanut butter and jelly, too,” Julia said.

  “Made with strawberry preserves,” Sara reminded her. “You had this thing for red. Orange marmalade would never do.”

  “How do you remember that?” Julia laughed.

&
nbsp; “It’s funny,” Sara said. “I seem to remember more about you than I do about myself.”

  “Well, maybe we can talk Julia into cooking for us while you’re here,” Max said. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches will be fine.”

  “I’m sure I can come up with something a little more interesting,” Julia said.

  The gentle gurgling of the fountain floated through the double doors which opened out from the kitchen into the garden.

  “Would you like to go into the garden?” Julia asked Sara.

  “I’d love to,” Sara said. They walked outside, down several large, wide stone steps. Terra-cotta pots lined each step, the lush greenness of the plants accenting the lighter stone of the surrounding wall.

  Adjacent to the fountain was an inviting wooden bench. The statue, almost the same height as Sara, reigned over the entire garden.

  “After living in Europe all this time, you’d think I’d be immune to icons,” Julia said. “But this one touches me for some reason. I think it’s because she seems so totally at peace in her surroundings.”

  Sara couldn’t imagine being that peaceful. They sat on the bench across from the fountain. The fountain trickled a steady accompaniment to their silence.

  “This is an amazing garden,” Sara said finally. “The only thing I grow really well in my garden at home is weeds.” Her half-hearted laugh died quickly.

  “I had a dream about you the other day,” Julia said.

  “Really?” Sara said. This intrigued her.

  “It had something to do with this fountain.” Julia paused as if to retrieve the details.

  “You were sitting right over there, at the Virgin’s feet.” She pointed and then smiled as if remembering more.

  “I love that you dreamed about me here.” Sara walked over to the edge of the fountain near where Julia had seen her in the dream and dropped to her knees. She let her fingertips fall into the water. Her hand swept the gentle currents as water rippled outward. “Several times since I’ve been here,” Sara said. “I’ve felt like I’ve dreamed it before. Kind of like déjà vu. Do you believe that’s possible?”

  “It seems as plausible as anything else,” Julia said.

  For several seconds they watched the fountain. Then Julia turned to watch her. “You’re so beautiful sitting there,” Julia said to Sara. “It’s like you and the woman in the fountain belong together.”

  Sara turned away, hiding the pleasure she felt by this remark. Did Julia call her beautiful?

  “I guess I do believe in déjà vu,” Julia continued, “because the scene is almost exactly what I dreamed. The only difference was that in the dream, you took a handful of water and poured it over your head, like you were baptizing yourself.”

  “Well, let’s do this right, then,” Sara said. She raised her face to the woman in stone and scooped up a handful of water. Then she tilted her head back and let the droplets fall on her forehead. “Like this?” she asked. She would have done anything for Julia at that moment.

  When Sara turned back to see if Julia approved, the expression on Julia’s face was one she had never seen before. She looked both curious and pleased, as if she was seeing Sara for the first time.

  Yet something about the look made Sara feel uncomfortable. She was used to being invisible; now Julia had seen her. At the same time something about this moment made everything she had been through in the last year feel worthwhile and she would have been willing to go through it all again if it meant she would end up in this same place.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sara wiped the water from her face and then wiped her hands on her pants. “Grady would think I’ve gone nuts,” she said, wondering why she would choose to bring up Grady at that moment, except that the thought of him was guaranteed to sober her.

  “Grady always was a little too predictable for me,” Julia said. “Sorry,” she added, as though she realized she was talking about Sara’s husband.

  “No, it’s true,” Sara said. “He’s still like that. But what’s sad is that I’ve been that predictable too, Jules.”

  “I haven’t heard that name in thirty years.”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “No, I love it. It’s the only nickname I’ve ever had.”

  A bird flew in and sat on one of the open arms of the statue. Sara thought again of the sparrows in the home improvement store. She was one of them and she had gotten away.

  “I wonder if she finds us humorous,” Julia said, looking up at the Madonna. “We worry about such trivial things.”

  “Like noses,” Sara said, running a finger along the slight crook. “I hate to think of how much time I’ve wasted hating my nose.”

  “You have a great nose,” Julia said.

  “You’ve always said that. But best friends lie, don’t they?”

  “Not about the important things.” They laughed with the lightness of girls.

  “You’re different somehow, from when you first arrived,” Julia said.

  “Because I’m baptizing myself in fountains?”

  “No, I mean you seem more relaxed. You have a vitality I haven’t seen before.”

  My oncologist would be happy to hear that, Sara thought, but didn’t speak it. For the first time since she had been in Italy she actually wanted to tell Julia the truth. But she didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  Water trickled a steady stream out of the stone wall. “Life just keeps going, doesn’t it? With or without us,” Sara said. “These statues will still be standing long after we’re gone.”

  “Well that’s philosophical of you,” Julia said.

  “I’ve been thinking lately about my mother,” Sara said. “I know it’s silly, but I still miss her and it’s been decades.”

  “You always were very sensitive, Sara. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

  “There’s more than one?” Sara laughed. “To be honest, I always wondered why you were my friend.”

  Julia leaned back on the bench, a slight look of surprise on her face. “Oh, Sara,” she sighed. “You haven’t really changed much at all, have you? You don’t get who you really are.”

  “Who am I?” Sara asked, as if she had been waiting her whole life to hear.

  Julia leaned closer. “You are a beautiful, sensitive, caring, self-effacing, funny soul,” Julia said.

  “Truthfully?”

  Julia nodded. “And I don’t know what I would have done without you when we were growing up,” Julia continued. “I was so lonely, you know? I was an only child with two intellectual parents. You were like a sister to me or a soul mate. We could talk about anything. We laughed constantly. Not to mention that you put up with me, for God’s sake. I must have been the bossiest little girl on the planet.”

  Julia paused as a bird took a bath on the edge of the fountain. Sara and Julia smiled at each other as they watched.

  “Thanks for saying all that,” Sara said. “It means a lot to me.” Actually, it meant more than Julia would probably ever know, Sara thought.

  “I can’t believe you never knew how I felt about you,” Julia said. “So much goes on underneath that calm exterior of yours. What else are you not telling me?”

  “Can we take a walk?” Sara asked. She stood.

  “Now I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Not now,” Sara said softly.

  “Okay, I’ll drop it,” Julia said. “But I’m here whenever you get ready.”

  Sara nodded.

  They walked through the courtyard gate and up a dirt path toward a hill. This place was as different from New England as Sara could imagine. But ‘different’ had been exactly what she needed.

  “It feels good to move,” Sara said. “If we’d stayed at the fountain any longer I may have become stone myself.” Sara felt closer to Julia since their talk. Was she really all those things that Julia said? She hoped so.

  Julia led them through an acre of olive trees, followed by a large field planted with sunflowers,
their green stalks just beginning to break through the ground. In a matter of weeks their blossoms would be like praying hands reaching toward the sun. The beauty of the Italian countryside elicited a lightness in Sara’s chest. She briefly touched her scar and turned her face toward the sun, soaking in its rays like the new shoots of the flowers.

  At the top of the hill they looked out over a large slice of Tuscany. A man on a tractor plowed a field on a square of earth in the distant valley below. Another figure rode a motor bike, releasing a ribbon of dust down the long driveway beyond the field. Green, yellow, and brown squares formed a patchwork quilt of earth in front of them.

  “What do you think?” Julia asked.

  “Heavenly,” Sara said.

  Julia spontaneously hugged her. The genuineness of Julia’s gesture caught Sara off guard. She hesitated before returning the embrace. And then didn’t want to admit how much she had wanted it.

  “I didn’t realize how much I missed you,” Julia whispered in her ear.

  At that moment the beauty of everything around her, including Julia, expanded Sara’s chest and threatened to burst open the scar. Italy was bringing Sara back to life. But maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.

  Sara suddenly felt confused. Mixed with the confusion were feelings she had never experienced before, except with Grady after they had first been married. It was as if all the lines she had drawn until now were blurring. Was she falling for Julia?

  Sara turned toward the path, wanting to run away. She wanted to be home. Home with Grady; Luke, the dog; her uninspired students; and everything predictable and familiar. Things were too foreign here, including the new emotions waking up in her.

  “Is something wrong?” Julia asked.

  “I’m ready to go back,” Sara said. She hated how cowardly she felt.

  “What is it?” Julia asked.

  “Nothing,” Sara said. She wasn’t about to admit to Julia something she couldn’t even admit to herself.

  They returned to the house through another field of sunflowers surrounded by a patch of gnarled olive trees. A painter’s paradise, Sara decided. Actually, anyone’s paradise. For the rest of the walk she kept her eyes focused on the path in front of her, fielding the thoughts and feelings she couldn’t put words to yet. Julia, who seemed to know instinctively that Sara needed space, didn’t speak on their return. When they entered the courtyard through the gate, Sara averted her eyes from the woman in stone, imagining she could read her mind, as well as her heart.