Golden H.S.

9. Sunday p1

I'm waiting outside my hotel for Harry sitting on a bench sketching the scene in front of me. I was unsure of what to wear for today but I settled on my blue and white striped wide leg jeans and a white top with thick straps and ruffles. I am so focused on my drawing it wasn't until the car stopped right in front of me did I realize it was Harry behind the wheel. "Hi" is all he said, grinning at me from the driver's seat of a silver convertible.

"Oh wow, rental cars in Italy are next level."

I don't really know anything about cars, but it seems like everything in Italy is designed so beautifully. I open the door and slide into the leather seat. Admiring Harry behind the wooden steering wheel I say,

"You look great and this car suits you"

I shut my door and put on my seatbelt. He is a white button up with gray stripes, brown plaid wool pants. He looked vintage and effortless and cool.

He chuckles, "What makes you say that?"

I just look around the car that looks like it has never been used.

"I don't know the lines maybe? I can't put my finger on it. It's like how people tend to look like their dogs, when you picked up the rental they must have looked at you and matched you to this car, that or they only had vans left and they just couldn't put you in a van."

I wink at him with my smile.

"I hope you don't mind the top being down, I figured this would be part of our sight seeing"

"It's great, I can't tell you how many times I've thought, this damn celinging imagine, the sky views I could have if it were gone!"

As he pulls the car out onto the main road, I have enough sense to put my hair up with the band I keep on my wrist.

"Oh open the glove box, I got you something."

I just look at him.

"You didn't have to get me anything. I actually owe you for getting this car, I can go halfsies on the rental and chip in for gas"

"Don't be ridiculous, that's not how this works. I can cover the car and the gas but I saw this yesterday at work and it just...it made me think of you and I wanted you to have it."

With that he reaches over, opening the glove compartment and pulling out a small square box about an inch thick. He hands it to me, and I am unsure what to say. It's not big or heavy in my hands and I separate the lid from the base. I removed the tissue paper and nested in the box is silk looking material folded. I set the box down and pull it out carefully to reveal a vintage looking silk scarf. It is navy, white and a red-orange that looks like it may be more orange from fading, lending to the vintage vibe. I just hold it in front of me taking it in, the geometric shapes in the navy border are fascinating. I feel like I'm staring at a piece of art that belongs in a museum. I must have been quiet for too long.

"I thought the colors were striking. The wardrobe department said they found it at a charity shop, but she was sure it was vintage. I just,..it made me think of you, but it's not...I thought like it would be a cool souvenir or whatever, but that it's just like a scarf, I don't know, it's pretty lame."

With that I registered what he said, "Lame! No way this is I don't know, Its art, its fashion, its vintage, it is everything! Like whoever owned it before had impeccable taste. She probably had so much good stuff that when they were getting rid of her things she had so much art and jewelry, and designer clothes, this silk scarf got over looked and thrown out. Which is crazy because it is so incredible and somehow it captures the spirit of Italy in this foot and a half square. I love it. It is so very thoughtful, I really adore it."