Read A Year at 32 September Way for Free Online Page B

doors and windows with geraniums that spilled over the flowerboxes like water from a waterfall. Then it dawned on her; they were driving down the alley that ran between the backs of two rows of buildings. This was where the residents parked their scooters at night and set their trash each week for the waste truck to take away.
    “Why on earth are we coming down the back street?” Eva wondered, struggling with a mixture of impatience and confusion. It was as if she was being snuck in like a spy. She opened her mouth to protest, but then the taxi came to a stop. The cab driver got out, opened the door for her and had her luggage out of the trunk before she’d barely gotten herself unstuck from the fake leather upholstery. He walked with her to a locked courtyard gate and knocked twice, then paused for a moment and knocked once more. She could hear a key turning in the lock before the gate slowly swung open.
    “My darling!” Marcello exclaimed as he pulled her into his arms and then quickly released her as he realized she was sweaty. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting…no, longing to see you again.”
    Marcello placed his folded hand in the palm of the taxi driver, leaving behind a wad of cash that seemed to far exceed a normal cab fare. At that point, though, Eva didn’t really care. The trip from the train station to the apartment had been a fiasco, and she was ready to be done with it. Anger welled up inside her chest, making it difficult to breathe even in the cool evening air.
    “Bring me to my apartment,” she managed to say before a small sob escaped her throat.
    “Oh, my rose, you’re not sad, are you?” Marcello lifted her hand and brushed it with a gentle kiss, tasting the salt on her skin.
    “Please, Marcello. It’s been a long trip. I want to go to my apartment, take a shower and get settled. That’s all I want right now.” She wanted to question him about why he wasn’t there to pick her up like she’d expected. She wanted to know why the taxi driver had driven around for an hour before bringing her to the apartment and why, for god’s sake, they drove through the back street to get there. But Eva didn’t ask any of her questions because she just wanted to go home, wherever that was.
    “Of course, my darling. Let me carry your luggage and we’ll go right up to your apartment,” Marcello said as if everything were perfectly fine. “There’s no need to be upset. I’ve prepared everything for you and have made your apartment almost as beautiful as you are. In fact, look,” he gestured toward a tall enclosed staircase on the back of the building, “I’ve even arranged for you to have your own special entryway so you don’t have to be bothered with anyone else’s noise.”
    At that point, Eva was just thankful she didn’t have to carry the two heavy suitcases up the four flights of stairs. Marcello was fit but, by the time they reached the doorway, even he was huffing and panting. He turned the key and, between gulps of air, gestured into the room with a sweeping motion. “Welcome to Verona, my sweet rose. Welcome to your new home.”
    The apartment was indeed lovely, Eva thought as she stepped through the heavy wooden door. The white stucco walls revealed areas where various colors of stone were left uncovered to decorate the walls with spots of pale yellow, slate gray and other earthy colors here and there. Dark wood beams alternated with stucco to form the ceiling, and the floor was made with pale gray natural stone. Pastel-hued rugs covered the floor, adding to the softness and warmth of the room’s décor.
    Sunset was just two hours away, but the last of the sun’s rays shone through the windows and the sheer cotton curtains fluttered in the cool evening breeze. The kitchen was simple but functional, with terra-cotta and stone crockery containers decorating the countertop. One small oak table and two chairs sat near the window; next to the window was a pair of French