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Relief crossed Luca’s face. Despite the espresso I was exhausted and a nearby bed with no one else’s husband in it sounded perfect.
“You go,” I said to Luca.
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be back to take you to the consulate in the morning,” he promised. He looked to Agata with an explanation. “Someone stole her passport. She needs to go to the American consulate to replace it.”
“You go,” she echoed me, practically pushing Luca to the door. “But be careful. You don’t owe them anything.” She whispered that last bit just loud enough that I could hear. Luca waved another feeble goodbye in my direction, clearly embarrassed at how quickly he had to rush off to whatever strange meeting had been called for him in the middle of the night. I wondered if it had anything to do with the broken window, with the note. Before I could ask, he was gone.
Agata shook her head. “Oh, Luca. He is such a puppy. So cute, so loyal, so stupid.” She picked up one of the amber bottles of pills, shook a few into her hand, and swallowed them dry.
“These help me stay awake when I am working,” she explained even though I didn’t ask. “Don’t worry about Luca. He probably had to go check on his children.”
I gave her the reaction she was looking for and she burst into a cackle of laughter that rumbled her little body.
“I am fucking with you. Too soon for that joke? Do not worry, American. He has no children and I am a wife in name only because it is easier for me than not being a wife, and Luca is the kind of man who keeps his promises and loves very hard. He is quite smitten with you. He called me right after he met you at his restaurant.”
A warmth crept up my neck.
“So, no children?”
“Not that I know of.” She shifted some papers around on the floor and uncovered a giant golden goblet filled with a rainbow of jelly beans. “He is going to meet the men who give him money for his restaurant. A true group of sfigati, losers, if you ask me. I told him not to take their money, but their offer was too good for him to turn down and Luca has quite the ego about his grand plans to turn the west coast of Sicily into a culinary mecca.”
So maybe Luca’s financial backing hadn’t come as easily as I had assumed on the beach. Maybe taking money always came with its own baggage, no matter who gave it to you. A part of me wished I had gone with him, but that ship had sailed. I was about to ask her for the key to the apartment across the street when Agata made a sudden proclamation.
“I can fix your passport problem.” She fired off a series of texts into the universe and a moment later declared, “I have a friend at the consulate, and she will meet us at nine a.m. It will make things easier for you. There are always lines and who knows how long you might have to wait.”
It seemed like the perfect segue into obtaining that key. “Then I had better get to sleep.”
“Really?” Her disbelief made me wonder if she had any idea that it was getting very late. “I would love to show you something if you will let me.”
“What is it?”
“I can explain as we walk.”
“Outside?”
“It is not far.”
“Could we see it tomorrow? After the consulate?” I asked helplessly.
“No, no. It is something I can only show you at night. It will not take very long. But it is easier to show you than to explain. And we can talk about other things as we walk.”
I considered asking her for one of her little pills, but uppers never agreed with me. The one time I did cocaine after a James Beard ceremony I took off all my clothes and sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” while dangling from a lamppost on Broad Street.
Sometime in the past six months my natural curiosity, the same one nurtured by Aunt Rose’s crazy scavenger hunts all those years ago, had simply withered and died. My old colleagues, the closest friends I’d ever had besides my sister, still invited me to things. Want to check out this new bar? There’s a wings and wine festival down at the pier. Come see the Brancusi exhibit or hear Snacktime at the Bok Bar. My excuses piled up until the invitations stopped coming. But now that old tug to experience something new was back and I hadn’t realized how much I had missed it.
“Maybe another coffee to go,” I said.
“We can get one on the street. Amuninni.” She covered her head with a purple scarf, discarded her green slippers for what looked like black cowboy boots, and slipped through the door.
After leaping up the stairs, Agata paused for a moment in the doorway to the main chapel.
“Do you want to see?” she asked me, and pulled me through the grand gilded doors before I could answer.
Frescoes of saints and angels covered every available surface. Massive marble columns flanked the pews, leading to a series of smaller chapels and altars. A ladder teetered precariously above a statue of the Virgin and her baby. Before I knew what was happening, Agata began to climb.
“Come, come. It is the best view of the Quattro Canti.”
“Nope,” I said.
