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But Molly was so much more than that. I was certain of it now. She was beautiful, and smart, and constantly found new ways to make me laugh. I knew all of her little quirks, including the way she hummed to herself while brushing her teeth, and how she always tapped her feet happily when she took the first bite of dinner.
Molly was special, and I was falling head-over-heels for her.
But how did she feel about me? Was I just a stranger she was sharing her bed with until she could go back to her life in Elkhart, Indiana? Had I ruined my chance for something more by snapping at her?
I tossed and turned all night thinking about it.
At six in the morning I gave up on trying to get any sleep. I quietly slipped out of bed and got dressed. Molly was a dark shape under the covers, rising and falling slowly with each breath. Once again I was struck by just how gorgeous she was, even asleep. Like an angel that had found her way into my bed.
I slipped out the front door of the hotel while it was still dark out. Civilians were permitted to go to the grocery store between six and ten in the morning. Would the cops that had caught us last night still let me leave? I hoped I wouldn’t have to find out.
I walked down the middle of the street like I wasn’t doing anything wrong. The store was about two miles away—three kilometers,I corrected in my head—and I got to enjoy the gorgeous Italian sunrise on the way, filling the sky with streaks of pink above the red-tiled roofs.
A cop nodded to me on the way, but didn’t say anything. I walked a little bit faster.
I got to the grocery store early, before a line had formed. It was a relief to walk around inside without having to dodge people in every aisle. I retrieved a box of condoms from the pharmacy section and then headed to the check-out line. We didn’t need any food since the kitchen at the hotel was still stocked, but I swung by the produce section just in case.
The fresh fruits were wiped out. There was only a single orange in the bin, bruised and pitiful looking. If I brought that home to Molly it would probably make her cry.
“Excuse me,” I said to a passing employee. I pointed at the orange. “More? Um, quando?”
He looked at the stand and shook his head.
Oh well. I tried.
The check-out guy scanned my condoms and made a comment in Italian. He chuckled, so he was probably joking about how I was having a better quarantine than he was. I laughed as if I understood, then left the store.
I was tempted to go home, but it was still early. I checked the map on my phone. There was another grocery store three kilometers to the east, deeper into the city. It made a triangle with my current location and our hotel, which meant it wouldn’t bethatmuch farther to go home if I swung by there.
I decided it was worth a try. I needed to make up for being a dick last night. Plus I wanted to see the smile on her face if I came bearing gifts.
As the sun climbed above the tiled Roman roofs, the streets narrowed and became more crowded with people. The morning rush of people going to the store while they were allowed.
Soon it became difficult to keep two meters of space between myself and everyone else. One woman behind me kept coughing into her sleeve, like she had something in her throat that she couldn’t get out. I glanced back at her nervously—everyone was giving her a wide berth.
It’s probably a normal cough because of allergies,I told myself. It felt like a comforting lie.
I hurried along as best as I could to the next store. It was about the same size as the previous one, but this one had a long line out the front. After walking this far, I figured I might as well wait. I would wait an hour for Molly, if I had to.
I read the news on my phone while the line slowly crept forward. Cases were spiking in the big coastal cities back home: New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles. Boston wasn’t as bad as those, but cases were still rising steadily. Hospitals would be at capacity soon, a Boston Globe article predicted.
As I reached the front of the line, I noticed a woman standing by the entrance. She had a baby in one arm, and a cardboard sign in the other. I translated the sign on my phone:Need money for diapers.
Fuck. I couldn’t imagine going through this sort of global event with a baby. It was a reminder that in the grand scheme of things, I was lucky as hell. Camping out in a four-star hotel wasn’t so bad.
I fished around in my pocket for Euros, but then a police officer ran up to the woman and started yelling. He gestured, and she quickly scurried away from the front door. When she was across the street, she resumed bouncing the baby and holding up her sign.
“Signore? Mi scusi?” the man at the front of the store called to me.
I apologized and let him scan my forehead temperature.
Even though the stores looked similar in size on the exterior, this one wasmuchsmaller on the inside. The ceiling was lower and the aisles were more narrow. But they were allowing the same number of people inside, crammed into a smaller space.
I stood in the entranceway and debated what to do. This definitely felt more risky than my other grocery trip. Every instinct was telling me to turn around and go home. But I could see the produce section to my right, and it was stocked.
For Molly,I thought stubbornly.
I weaved through the displays in the open produce section. One woman had a face shield covering her entire head like a plastic welding mask. Another couple hastily grabbed avocados while scanning their surroundings, eyes wide and fearful behind their masks. The butcher was next to the produce, and there was a long line that snaked through the entire section. I had to backtrack and circle around to avoid getting close to anyone.
