All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 51

I didn't hear back from Paulo, but I didn't need to. My heart raced ahead of me as I loaded up my things, boarded the plane and crowbarred myself into my window seat. I felt exactly like the much-lauded swallow, my breast full to bursting with the frantic pull to migrate toward love, toward the home of my heart, toward Paulo.

Before I boarded my plane, I texted him one more time with my flight information. I still hadn't heard from him, but I wanted him to know I was on my way, that I was close. I left my phone on until the flight attendant asked me to power it off, but he did not text back. I didn't care. My doubt had vanished. I knew in my heart what we had was the real deal, and I was going after it.

As the plane leveled off above the world, I settled into my cramped quarters, and thought about Paulo's texts. I wish you were here praying with me. Well, I didn't know anything about praying, but if that's what he wanted from me, then I would give it my best shot. I turned in my seat and gazed out the window at the cotton-candy clouds tinted pink by the sunset and thought about the kind of God who would inspire such devotion from men like Paulo, like Franco, or a woman as contradictory as Madalina the Magnificent. If he could handle the things that came out of her mouth, I figured he could handle any mistakes I might make in the prayer department.

"Hey, um, God," I whispered, so low I knew no one could hear me. "My name is Ani. Anica Tomlin." He probably knew that already, but my parents had raised me right. "I know I don't really have the right to ask for favors, but this isn't about me, okay? If you're out there, could you let Paulo know you care about him, about his mom?" I waited, half expecting some kind of a response. "Okay," I continued, after a moment. "That's all. Thanks."

The sky was losing its luster as night settled in and I watched the metropolitan lights below grow distant. "One more thing," I whispered, not wanting to bug him. "Thanks for putting Paulo in my path. Or me in his." I leaned my head back and sighed contentedly, then added, "Please help me find him."

I wasn't looking forward to even one more minute on a plane, except that it was taking me to Paulo, but within moments of offering up my timid request, my eyelids fell shut and I slipped away into oblivion. I awoke an hour and fifty minutes later as the seatbelt warning blinked on and the captain's voice rasped out over the loudspeaker that we were preparing to land.

This time, there was no customs, no wading through red tape behind people with too many carry-ons. I disembarked and headed straight for baggage claim. The shuttle to the hotel I'd booked made a pick up at nine, and although I had plenty of time, I wanted to be on the curb, waiting for it. There were no messages from Paulo, so I planned to get some sleep and then head straight to the hospital first thing in the morning. I'd start knocking on patient room doors if I needed to.

I spotted my tweed suitcase with the bright orange ribbon tied to the handle and moved toward it, maneuvering my bum leg around a woman with an empty luggage cart and her three children. "Excuse me, ma'am. That's my bag. Can I get by—?"

A long arm reached around me and snatched my suitcase from the belt, pulling it clear of the cart, a toddler, and me. "Hey!" I cried out, and turned clumsily, knowing there was no way I could possibly catch anyone who wanted to steal my stuff. But my computer was in there, and...

And suddenly, I was caught up in his arms, the fragrance of sunshine and woodshop and spice and musk filling my senses, held tight against the solid wall of his chest, his heart pounding inside his ribcage in welcome against my cheek.

Home. Heaven. Paulo.

And then he kissed me. One arm around my back, holding me fiercely to him, the other hand threading long fingers through my hair and around the back of my neck, pulling me up to meet him. I heard the clatter of my cane hitting the floor behind me but I didn't care. In Paulo's embrace, I didn't need any help standing upright.

"I told you I'd find you, Ani."

"I told you I'd follow you, Paulo." We spoke at the same time and I laughed out loud, my heart bursting with joy.

The sound of clapping came from behind me, small hands slapping together, accompanied by tittering giggles. I turned to see the two older girls sitting on the edge of the luggage cart, watching our very public display of affection. "Kiss her again!" one of them urged.

"Girls!" A toddler on her hip, their harried mother shushed them, and then turned to us. "I'm so sorry. They're really into their fairytales and true love's kiss and all that."

Paulo burst out laughing as the girls began to chant, "True love's kiss. True love's kiss. True love's kiss."

He winked at the girls, then dipped me back the way he'd done Madalina in the hallway outside my room at casa de Lazzaro, and kissed me chastely, to the delight of our audience, who shrieked with appreciation.

The mother rolled her eyes and turned back to the baggage conveyer belt, keeping an eye out for her bags.

After sticking around to help the woman with her suitcases—and entertaining her star-struck daughters with a few more knee-weakening kisses—we made our way to Paulo's car in the parking lot. Instead of helping me in, though, he leaned back against the passenger side door, pulled me to him, his arms secure around my waist. He looked at me long and sweetly, his eyes saying more to me than any words could. Then he crushed me to him again, and I heard him take in a ragged breath.

"You told me you would follow the man you love." He spoke just above a whisper, his mouth close to my ear. "I hope I am that man, Ani, because you are the girl I love. By the roadside, by the river, in Lucca, in Oregon, in California. It does not matter where we are, I will find a way to be with you. Because I love you."

My eyes closed, my cheek pressed against his chest, I listened to the steady beat of his heart. Could we really do this? We both had school to finish, Paulo had his mother's care to consider, and I had a job waiting for me back home. Then, there was Lucca, full of light and joy. Lucca, where I'd learned to look at the world with open eyes, an open heart, and open hands, and found happiness. Lucca, where I'd fallen head over heels—quite literally—in love with this man who was offering me his heart.

I leaned back in his arms to look up at him, to see his beautiful face, his dark eyes shining with emotion. "What do you think I've been doing for the last twenty-four hours?"

He cocked his head to one side, his brows raised in question.

"I've been following the man I love." I rose up on tiptoe, took his face in my hands, and threaded my fingers through his unruly hair, pouring every ounce of my little piece of heaven I could into the way I looked at him. "It's you, Paulo. I love you."

"Mi lasci senza fiato, Ani," he whispered.

Then I drew his mouth down to mine.    

~ ~ THE END ~ ~