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Maddie picked out a five hundred dollar suit coat and held up a tie for Ethan, who shook his head and made a face. She shrugged, a warm smile lighting her eyes. “Too business for your needs. How about this?” She picked up a slick brown leather jacket.
“It’s kind of warm for leather,” Ethan said, putting the tie back on the rack. “Honestly, I don’t really need anything.”
“Oh, this isn’t about needing anything, my dear boy. It’s about revenge. And about making a point,” she added as Ethan and I shared a look of shock. “Your father needs to have the point driven home that nothing...and I mean nothing, is more important than you. There will soon come a day when you’ll be so busy in your own life, you will have no use for him. When that day comes, he will be one sorry man that he neglected to show you how special you are to him.” Maddie picked out a cashmere sweater vest. “Oh, this is nice.”
“I’m not really a cashmere kind of guy.” Ethan grabbed a pair of Italian leather boots off the shelf. “So you’re saying that spending my dad’s hard earned cash will get his attention?” Ethan kicked off his sneakers and jammed a foot into a boot. “I hate to break it to you, but I’ve tried that before. It hasn’t worked.” He tugged on the second boot, then checked out how they looked in the mirror.
“Nice,” I said, my focus so not on the black leather boots. He caught me admiring the way his jeans hugged his hips. His ears turned red, but he gave me a grateful smile as he pulled the boots off and handed them to the saleswoman.
Maddie nodded her approval. “Well, something has to get his attention. It’s not right that he makes all those promises and then lets you down time and again. It’s not fair to you, and he is missing out on what a wonderful young man you are.”
I grinned inwardly at Maddie’s lioness stance on the issue and how adamantly she defended Ethan. Clearly, she was very fond of him. I could see it meant a lot to him, but his words still carried the weight of disappointment.
“I don’t need his attention that badly,” Ethan said. “I’m not a kid anymore. If he hasn’t figured it out by now, I doubt he ever will.” A dejected expression clouded Ethan’s face, and I wanted nothing more than to hug him and to do whatever it took to erase his pain. The tour guide waved the orange flag and shoppers congregated outside the exit of the store, ready to move on to our next stop.
To avoid long lines and give Maddie a chance to rest before we hit the Vatican, we took the tour bus highlighting the main attractions in Rome. We crossed the snaking Tiber River, which bisected the city, and then we drove slowly past the Coliseum and the Forum. Our tour guide, a slender Italian woman with a thick ebony pony tail, spoke in heavily accented English.
“Completed in 80AD, the Coliseum once housed as many as fifty thousand spectators—all crowded in for entertainment as unarmed men engaged in a battle to the death against lions or against each other. Violence was a drug in a depraved society. Some might find a parallel in today’s spectator sports like your American football, no?” She said it with a mischievous grin that had the tourists chuckling.
I tuned out the rest of her history lesson and focused on every cut stone and massive archway we passed. I was dying to get out and walk around inside the ancient ruins, but it would be impossible to see it all with the little time we had. In awe of the ingenuity and the feat of human strength it took to build a structure that could withstand two thousand years, I admired the ornate archways and incredible detail in the sculpted stone of the Coliseum and the massive carved amphitheater of the Forum. I’d always been fascinated with architecture, but this was...incredible.
We drove past the Piazza di Spagna, known as the Spanish Steps, a massive marble staircase where people congregated and took photos as if they were supermodels on location. Then it was past the Trevi Fountain and I wished I had time to get out and toss in a coin to ensure I would return, a romantic tradition Maddie said was made famous in movies, but one that made perfect sense to me. I craned my neck to catch every statue, every fountain, and every monument.
“Isn’t this amazing?” I turned to Ethan, who sat quietly beside me.
“Yeah, great.” He stared blankly past me out the window.
“Still bummed about your dad?”
“I was kind of looking forward to seeing Rome with him. We’ve talked about it for years. He and my mom came here on their honeymoon. He was supposed to show me all the places they went together. I thought...it doesn’t matter what I thought.” His expression darkened and he released another sigh.
I slipped my fingers through his and gave his hand a light squeeze. “Now you’ll have memories of your own, right?” I tried to act happy but the sad look in his eyes made me instantly angry with his father. Doctor or not, he was a jerk for hurting someone I’d grown to care very much about. My heart ached for Ethan. Knowing that our time was limited and that in a matter of days, all we would have was memories of each other to take with us, I was filled with new determination to make the best of our time together. Attempting to draw a smile, I nudged his shoulder. “Wait ’til you see the Sistine Chapel. I hear it will make a grown man cry. Should we stop and get a box of tissues?”
He nudged me back and there it was—that wise-guy grin. “I think I’ll make it through without bawling, thanks.”
When we finally reached Vatican City, the two of us were laughing and joking, in no small part thanks to Maddie who had engaged us in a conversation about the attire of the ancient Romans and how their thigh high garments were likely a precursor to the miniskirts worn in her day. “Funny how fashion always seems to come back around,” she remarked. “But my Lord, how clothing is getting skimpier with every generation.” She nodded at a teenaged girl wearing a mini that barely covered her butt.
The line to get into the Vatican snaked on for what seemed like forever, and the hot sun filled the cloudless blue sky overhead. Maddie fanned herself with her hat and finished off her bottle of water before the main entrance came into view. I didn’t mind the wait so much, as it gave me time to check out the Basilica’s classic Renaissance and Baroque architecture. And to people watch. Across St. Peter’s Square, past the massive obelisk made of marble, and in front of the Metro station, several shady-looking teens congregated, no doubt dealing or pick-pocketing unsuspecting tourists. Nearby stood a vendor advertising water and Italian ice.
“Ethan and I will go get some ice cream and a couple more bottles of water,” I said, glancing at Ethan conspiratorially. “We’ll be right back, Maddie.” Before she had a chance to protest, I’d grabbed his hand and dragged him out of line and through the crowded square. My head spun as I took in the moment. Bernini’s Colonnade, the monument erected in honor of the square’s designer stood center stage. I soaked in the beauty surrounding me and felt more happy and excited than I had in a long while. I was free and in Rome—with a hot guy.
“Grab us some of those Italian ices. I’ll be right back,” I said, pulling away.
“Wait! You shouldn’t...”
But I’d already disappeared around the corner and down the steps into the dark recesses of the Metro Station where I’d seen a couple of teenagers about my age duck out of sight a few minutes earlier. As I suspected, they were off in the shadows, exchanging a few Euros, one speaking in broken English, the other, an American boy who was tucking a couple of rolled cigarettes into his pocket. They both stopped abruptly as I approached.
I looked around to make sure I wasn’t drawing attention, and then smiled amiably at the two boys. “Can I get in on some of that action?”
The two regarded me warily and then the American darted off, leaving the local boy to shift nervously. It took a few misunderstood phrases between us for me to walk away with a grossly overpriced joint, but I’d gotten what I came for. Feeling smug that I hadn’t been kidnapped, assaulted, or arrested, I returned to Ethan’s side in front of the vendor’s cart.
“What was that all about?” he asked, annoyed and obviously worried.
“Just a little exploring. I wanted to see what Rome’s underbelly looked like.”
“Well, don’t do that again. There are pick-pockets and thieves around here. It isn’t safe for tourists to go off alone—especially someone like you. Human traffickers could have...”
“But they didn’t,” I interjected. “And what’s with the someone like me remark? Do you mean a stupid American girl?” I gave him my best unappreciative glare.
He handed me an ice cream. “NO. Actually I meant young and pretty.” The annoyance faded from his eyes and sincere worry took over. “I don’t know what I would do if anything bad happened to you.”
“Oh—sorry.” My cheeks burned and I gratefully took the ice cream, feeling once again as if I’d gone too far. “We’d better get back to Maddie,” I said, not wanting to ponder the possibility that he was right. It had been stupid of me to risk everything—including my life—for a joint. My only defense was that I’d been caught up in the moment, and I’d seen an opportunity I couldn’t resist. It wasn’t the first time I’d acted without thinking—a truth about myself I wasn’t sure I wanted to face.
It took another half hour before we finally entered the Vatican Museum, but by that time, Maddie was looking refreshed. In some respects, my grandmother seemed young and vibrant, like one of her bright hats or floral tops. At other times, she appeared old and wilted like a plant gone un-watered for too many days. For the moment, my concerns faded when Maddie squealed like a teenager over the exquisite artwork before us.
The museum’s treasures were displayed in a series of galleries that would stretch four-and-a-half miles end-to-end. We followed Giuseppe, our guide, through each gallery, every one more amazing than the last. Ornate archways and carved marble moldings overhead were lined with giant sculptures of deities, saints, and angels. The rich, burgundy carpeting underfoot and the divinely inspired artwork on the vaulted ceilings made me feel as if I’d been transported to another time and place, lost in a maze of antiquity and beauty. We crossed mosaic stone and marble floors that came alive with color. Gold and burnished bronze statues gave the place a warm feel. At the same time, all the stone and marble, and the cavernous ceilings kept the space feeling cool and dry. Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the history, I captured picture after picture, certain I’d never retain the full experience. A quick glance at Ethan, and I was happy to see he was as enthralled as me and Maddie—his father’s betrayal momentarily forgotten.
When we came into the Sistine Chapel, I was awestruck. Words failed me as I craned my neck to see in all directions at once. The voices of the tour guides could be heard above the hushed whispers of the crowd, and a sense of reverence pervaded the scene in a way I’d never experienced before. Michelangelo’s most inspiring frescos arched overhead. I felt dizzy as my head spun to capture the overwhelming beauty of it all. I imagined the painter, over fifteen hundred years ago, lying on his back on ancient scaffolding, measuring every minute detail and line that came off his brushstrokes. The magnitude of the job boggled my mind. The patience it had taken, the passion for his art, the amazing fortitude required to see the job finally completed.
“I can’t believe one man did this whole thing in only four years,” I whispered as I leaned into Ethan, who seemed to be in a daze as he took it all in.
“Makes you look at four years of college a little differently, doesn’t it?” His head tipped further back as he turned in a slow circle.
I took what he said to mean that both of us could learn from the artist’s dedication and discipline. Maybe it was time I stopped looking at college as some sort of exile or punishment—a place full of unknown dangers and overwhelming responsibilities—and start seeing it as the opportunity to create something amazing for my future.