Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Family Is Family (Chapter 17)

Motioning for Piero to sit, Marlow pulled open the living room curtains, flooding the room in warm sunlight.

"This is a lovely home. Do you live with your parents?" he asked.

"Uhh, no, I don't. I live here with one other roommate."

"Do your parents live close?" he continued to question.

"No."

Puzzled by Marlow's short reply and hesitation to provide further details, Piero apologized for bringing it up.

"There's no need to be sorry. I don't see my parents anymore," she said with little emotion. Joining him on the couch and mistakenly sitting too far away for his liking, she chuckled and rolled her eyes when he reached for her wrist and gave a gentle tug. Scooting in closer, she tucked one leg under her butt and propped her elbow on a raised knee, supporting her head with her fingertips. "I don't remember my father much. He made some bad choices and ended up in jail."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Piero said sincerely.

Brushing his apology away with a wave of her hand, Marlow anticipated that Piero's next question would be about her mother. Feeling a familiar heaviness in her stomach, she quickly changed the subject. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about her mother and her upbringing; it just wasn't the right time.

"Hey, before I forget, I wanted to tell you again how much I truly enjoyed our morning run. Do you know what made it so great?" she asked.

"Yes, me!" Piero exclaimed playfully.

"No."

"What, do you mean, no?" he protested, giving Marlow a pout.

"I mean, yes, but no, what I really appreciated was how you kept pace with me instead of making me run like the roadrunner to keep up."

Lightly patting Piero's knee and groaning as she untangled her legs, Marlow said, "I don't know about you, but I need a shower. Let me show you where you can freshen up." Leading Piero down to a guest bathroom in the basement, she grabbed some extra towels just in case he needed some.

"I'll see you back upstairs when you're done," she said, smiling.

"Sounds good."

Eager to make the most of the remaining day, Piero stripped down and quickly showered. Donning a pair of stylish ripped jeans and a white button-down shirt with patterned cuffs, a hint of cologne lingered in the air as he adjusted his glasses on his face.

***

Heading up the stairs, the sound of humming and the shuffle of slippered feet on the wood flooring emanated from the kitchen. Surprised to find someone other than Marlow rummaging in the fridge, Piero cleared his throat so as not to scare her and said a friendly, "Hello there." Maintaining a safe distance by stopping at the kitchen island, he introduced himself.

"I'm Piero. I'm a friend of Marlow's. You must be her roommate."

The curly, auburn-haired woman cautiously peered around the open fridge door and stepped back.

"You say you're a friend of Marlow's?" she asked, pulling her oversized bathrobe tighter around her.

"I am."

"And where is she?"

"She's upstairs. We just got back from a run this morning, and I just came up from having a shower downstairs."

Closing the fridge door, the girl smiled and extended her hand.

"Hi, I'm Zoe."

"It's nice to meet you, Zoe. So, are you and Marlow close friends or just roommates?" he asked.

Chuckling, Zoe busied herself with getting breakfast.

"We've known each other many for years and are more like family. So Piero, you don't sound like you're from here," she said, leaning against the counter as she ate.

"I'm from Italy."

"Nice. Are you here just on vacation or here for some other reason?"

"I'm here recording a CD with my two other bandmates."

"Cool."

Shuffling through the mail on the table, Zoe studied Piero between bites of her cereal. Typically, on similar schedules, she and Marlow saw each other often after work. But, living on opposite work schedules for the last couple of weeks, they had only seen each other in passing. Deciding not to wait for the intel on this fellow from her roommate, Zoe continued with her questions.

"So, is Marlow driving you around while you are here?"

"She is," Piero answered. "We had a day off today, so I kind of invited myself to join her in running this morning."

"Cool," Zoe repeated. "You said you are here with two others recording some music. Would I have heard of you?"

"Maybe," Piero responded, twisting the whiskers under his bottom lip. "We are called Il Volo. We've been singing together since we were teenagers. You might have heard us sing 'O Sole Mio' on American Idol about 12 years ago."

"O Sole Mio. American Idol!" Zoe exclaimed, "I think I remember you. What is the name of your group?"

"Il Volo."

"Yes! I remember you. You had bright red glasses and wild hair."

Chuckling, Piero pushed his eyewear back up his nose. "That's me."

"Hey, you're up," Marlow said as she came into the room and stood beside Piero. Glancing over to see what he was wearing, she stifled her laughter. Both were wearing torn jeans and a white shirt; the only difference was that his jeans were black, and hers were blue.

"I got called into work today. Hey, did you know your friend was one of the guys that sang 'O Sole Mio' on American Idol?"

"Yes," Marlow said, leaving out that she had only discovered that fact a week ago. Then, peeking over at Piero, she blushed when he cracked a small smile.

"We were avid American Idol fans," Zoe continued, "And I remember us sitting mesmerized as three super cute teenage boys sang."

"Zoe!" Marlow exclaimed.

Busting out into full laughter, Zoe ignored Marlow's glare.

"Well, welcome to Vancouver, Piero."

"Thank you."

Feeling the warmth spread from her toes to the top of her head, Marlow's eyes followed Zoe as she set her dishes in the dishwasher. As Zoe left the room, Marlow sighed, sliding her hands down her cheeks to cover her nose and mouth.

"I'm so sorry," she said with a sheepish smile, "Zoe has a habit of oversharing sometimes." Suppressing a chuckle and hiding her grin with her knuckles, she felt the urge to confess. "On the day we first met, once I got home, I searched every video I could find of you guys on YouTube. When I stumbled on your American Idol performance, I remembered being 14 and instantly crushing on you. Unfortunately, it only lasted a week because One Direction exploded on the scene."

"Only a week, ouch!" Piero exclaimed, clutching his hand to his chest. "That hurts." Brushing a lock of her hair away from her face for her, Piero added, "I forgive you. We did a lot of TV appearances on talk shows that girls your age probably never watched so I'm not surprised."

"Sss-till," Marlow hiccupped. Thumping her chest, hoping to stop the spasms, she tried to continue, "Sss-or-ry, if I wait too long to eat, I often get the hic-cups."

"Well then," Piero said, "let's get you fed."