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“No, with the cap on, please,” she said with that coaxing smile that could have talked me into eating haggis.
We walked around Positano, a picture-perfect cliffside village that Theadora described as a fairy tale. It certainly resembled something out of the ordinary with its pastel buildings clinging miraculously onto a steep hillside surrounded by an aquamarine ocean.
The sea glistened under the late-afternoon sun, and tourists ambled along. After we settled at a café in the bustling piazza, we ordered a limoncello—a tangy local liqueur.
Feeling refreshed after a siesta and some hot sex with my fiancée, I must have been the happiest man alive.
From a distance, I saw Matt walking alongside Lucy, chatting and laughing.
I slanted my head in their direction. “They look happy.”
“Lucy’s a bit of a flirt, I’m afraid. She’s got a thing for men in uniforms.”
“I’m glad. Matt’s single, and he seems to like her.”
“Did he say something?” Theadora wore a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
I could see her friend’s happiness meant everything to her.
“We don’t really talk about things like that. And he’s only just met her.” A waiter arrived with the pizza we’d ordered as a snack. The aroma made my stomach leap with joy. “That smells delicious.” I glanced up at the waiter. “Grazie.”
“Prego.” He nodded. “Can I get you another drink?”
I shook my head. “Not for me.”
Theadora looked up at him. “Just some water, please.”
We ate in hungry silence and welcomed Lucy and Matt.
“I’m overwhelmed by how beautiful this place is,” Lucy said, standing at our table.
“Why don’t you join us. Have some pizza,” I said.
They sat down. “Only if there’s enough.”
“This is just a snack. I’ve booked a table at eight. You got my text to join us?” I asked Matt.
He nodded.
“Do you like where you’re staying?” Theadora asked Lucy.
“You bet. There are so many amazing views of mountain villages and the sea. I’m taking so many photos.”
After trekking through coastal trails and discovering ancient villages with their olive groves and exquisite fragrant gardens, we sat in a small square in a mountainside garden of lemon trees. The air redolent of citrus.
Theadora and I were alone. Lucy and Matt had not been spotted that day. We suspected they’d fallen into their own romantic bubble. After our first night, they’d hooked up, according to Theadora, and since then I’d only seen Matt once. We met up for a snorkel, visiting underwater caves that just blew my adventurous mind. I tried dragging Theadora along, but crossing her arms, she admitted to being scared of water. Something I planned to address by teaching her how to swim.
Selfish reasons, of course. I wanted to see her in a wet bikini.
I played with Theadora’s fingers as I stared out to sea at sailing boats drifting along in the gentle breeze and gliding seabirds. The warm afternoon sun caressed my bare arms and face, and I’d never felt heathier.
An elderly woman, wearing a scarf around her hair and carrying a basket, trundled over and offered us flowers. “Per la tua bella ragazza.”
I bought a few bunches and gave her extra. She returned a toothless smile. My heart went out to the woman who looked like the craggy hills around her. I read hard toil in her time-worn face and was reminded of the farmers back home who also resembled their land.
When she saw the five-hundred-Euro note, she kissed my hand. “Dio vi benedica.”
Her old eyes glistened with depth and sincerity.
