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He laughed at the joke and said, “I dislike driving in the city, but I adore driving in the countryside.”
“The countryside? That is where we are going?”
“Yes, and also no. The countryside is part of the journey.”
He drove north-east out of the city, and the landscape changed to rolling hills and sparse forests. I opened Google Maps on my phone and tried to guess where we were going, but no major cities seemed to be in that direction. Unless we were driving six hours to Venice.
“How far are we going?” I asked casually.
Furio gave me a sideways glance and waggled a finger. “No no. It is a surprise. No guessing. Relax and enjoy the ride!”
I put my phone away and admired the Italian countryside. Furio was a capable driver, and he regaled me with tales of what the land had looked like centuries ago. The Romans grew millet in these fields, and spelt, which Furio explained was a type of wheat.
We passed a farmer walking through his field, picking stones out of the soil. I imagined someone like him in peasant garb doing the same thing two thousand years ago while columns of Roman soldiers marched down the road. The sense of age felt strange to me, an American. My house was built in the eighties, and I thoughtthatwas old.
After two hours, we crested a hill that gave us a sweeping view of the surrounding landscape. Furio pulled over next to a lone olive tree and parked the car. He came around the side of the car and opened my door for me.
“Such a beautiful day!”
Furio revealed a wicker basket from the trunk of the car, and spread a blanket out beneath the tree. Inside the basket were spiced olives, three wedges of different types of cheese, a loaf of Italian bread, and a jar of olive oil. He cut the bread into slices, which we dipped in the olive oil while nibbling on the rest of the food. A bottle of red wine completed the picnic.
He was right: itwasa beautiful day. I had spent so much time inside theeTodobuilding that I hadn’t realized how gorgeous it was here. The sun was warm, but a cool breeze drifted across the top of the hill, refreshing my skin and gently shaking the olive tree above us.
“This is pleasant,” Furio said, staring off. “It is rare that I get to be alone.”
“You’re not alone,” I pointed out. “I’m here.”
He turned and favored me with his intense gaze. “That is not what I meant. You are someone Iwantto be around. Usually, I am surrounded by others whose company is not so… soothing.”
The old me would have made a joke. Poor Furio Rossi, the billionaire who is always surrounded by assistants and servants. But after spending time with him, I could see what he meant. It was exhausting having people waiting on you hand and foot, and always having an assistant there to remind you of your busy schedule. There was no time to relax and simplybe.
“This is really nice,” I said, refilling my wine glass. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
When I tried to refill his glass, he covered it with his hand. “Only one glass for me. We still have far to travel before we arrive at the surprise.”
I blinked. “You mean this isn’t what you wanted to show me?”
He chuckled. “Of course not! This is merely a short snack break to enjoy the day. Therealsurprise is still eighty kilometers away.”
I gave him a puzzled look. “Where are you taking me?”
“You shall see!” he replied cheerfully.
After I finished my wine, we packed everything up and continued driving. The sun was beginning to set as we turned off the highway toward a place called Arcevia. It was somewhere between a village and a town, and was nestled along the slope of a mountain. The road up into the town was carved into the side of the cliff, with a sheer drop-off next to the road. Even though the view from this height was tremendous, I turned away before getting overwhelmed by vertigo.
We saw few other cars on the road as we drove into the center of the town and parked in a square. As Furio opened my door and I stepped out, I admired how Arcevia looked in the fading light. Every building was old and sturdy, and the air smelled fresh and clean and mature.
“What is this place?” I asked.
Furio held out an arm for me to take. “I will show you.”
We walked across the square and down another cobbled street. The streets were completely deserted, except for the occasional man or woman hurrying about their business. I gazed into the windows of shops and storefronts, all of which were dark and closed. I couldn’t come up with a non-alarming reason for everything to be abandoned like this, but Furio smiled and led me along by the arm.
At last we came to an old church with a single bell tower. The wooden door was smooth with age, but did not creak as Furio opened it gently. The interior was illuminated by candles, dozens of them, hundreds even, hanging from chandeliers and wall-mounted candelabras. We were in the back of the church, which was nearly full, and a man in flowing robes stood at an ornate pulpit at the far end of the room, voice booming off the stone walls as he gave his sermon.
Furio closed the door quietly and led me into an empty pew near the back. From there we listened to the priest’s sermon for several minutes. Furio did not translate, but he did not need to; the pitch and timbre of the priest’s voice carried all the emotion needed, even without understanding the words.
Organ music blared to life, rising in power and volume as the service ended. The inhabitants of Arcevia, the hundreds of them packed into the church, rose and began to leave, smiling with renewed spiritual vigor. Some of them glanced at Furio and I curiously, but none acted as if we were out of place.
