All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 30

Cosimo's day had not gone well. He didn't elaborate; probably because of patient confidentiality and all that, but he did say that his morning had gotten very complicated. His whole demeanor was stiff with me during our short visit, but in the exam room after my X-ray, he made a point to tell me how sorry he was that he could not spend more time with me today, and that he thought about me having my coffee on the terrace this morning. He didn't try to kiss me, or to touch me in any way except professionally, even though he complimented me openly.

"You look like a Tuscan sunset in that dress, bellisima. Once again you bring the sunlight into my life." It occurred to me then, my eyes covertly darting around the room, that perhaps there were cameras mounted on the walls. I thought about his clientele and the types of services he provided, and if perhaps he needed the added protection against lawsuits. Then I immediately felt judgmental for thinking such things and chose to believe he simply respected me and wasn't going to take advantage of me in this setting.

His next words, spoken low and husky, made me reconsider my reconsideration. "I cannot wait to come see you, Ani. I want to kiss your lips and catch on fire again."

It was nice to know exactly where one stood with a guy.

By the time we made it home, Gerardo in tow, the shadows on the hillsides were long, and the breeze had rustled up a bit of a chill. I hadn't brought a sweater, thinking we'd be back before I'd need one, and I was glad to get inside and into my room to find my black cable knit cardigan.

The evening meal was as simple as last night's had been complex, but no less tasty. A large white tureen in the middle of the table held a creamy pureed summer squash and cannellini bean soup. Margarite set before each of us a plate of grilled rolls stuffed with leftover prosciutto slices from last night, roasted red peppers, basil and spinach leaves, and melted mozzarella.

Because of a busy workload, Cosimo would not be back out to the house until Wednesday evening. Part of me was disappointed in a pining sort of way, but another part of me relished the freedom I'd have to just hang out at the beautiful house and get some of my own work done. Maybe without the distraction of Cosimo, I'd find the opportunity to talk with Claudia and Isa about the olive plight, perhaps even Franco as well, if he was willing. I really hoped the harvest would happen, not just for the sake of my paper, or even simply getting to experience something so cool and fundamental to existence in this part of the world, but for the sake of this family who was so generous with their lives to family, friends, and even complete strangers like me.

When dinner was over, I excused myself for the night. I thanked Claudia again for the beautiful dress, Margarite for the lovely meal, the men for their company, and Isa for being such a good friend to me. Then I made my way through the quiet house to my room. Now that the swelling in my foot had reduced and I'd gotten more comfortable with my leg brace, I planned to take a hot bath and slip into my flannel pajama set, something I was looking forward to with great anticipation. Ensconced in my room the rest of the evening, I was going to catch up on some schoolwork and write the letters to family and friends I'd not gotten around to this afternoon.

Opening my inbox, I rolled my eyes. Tish had left four increasingly badgering emails asking how my visit went with Dr. Scrumptious.

Tish,

So guess what I learned on my way to my follow-up visit. Cosimo is a plastic surgeon, of all things. Can you believe it? I don't know why I didn't know that, or why I assumed he ran some kind of urgent care clinic. The minute I wheeled into his office today, I saw signs of it everywhere, and not just the wild artwork, either. Framed certificates on the walls, pamphlets about the different types of cosmetic surgeries one can have, name plates on the door. I guess I must have been a little distracted the first time I went in.