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“Yup. Italy has a few of them. Falling apart...some still furnished, though burglars strip off the most valuable pieces. This one has some impressive frescoes I thought you’d like to see.
Cora gives me a soft smile. “You’re very thoughtful.”
“What can I say? I’m a diamond in a rock bed.”
She laughs. “You won’t get anywhere by being full of yourself.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Who says I’m trying to getsomewhere?”
She studies me from under thick lashes. “Aren’t you?”
Is it a serious question? Does she really want to know how much I’d like to make love to her even now, right here, in the car? I turn back to the road, suppressing both lust and all my many reservations about giving in to my desire. Cora directs her gaze out the window at the countryside, and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“How’s your little boyfriend?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
“Enzo?” She laughs. “Any day now, he’s going to challenge you to a duel.”
“I’m shaking in my shoes.” I glance at her and grin. “I’d fight for you though.”
She rolls her eyes.God,I love it when she does that.
“Too bad you’re in the wrong century,” she says.
At our destination, I drive down a paved driveway half eaten by weeds. More weeds surround the porch with thick vines climbing up two classical marble columns in the front of the house.
“It’s so quiet,” Cora says beside me. “Peaceful though, not eerie.”
“You’re right,” I agree. It’s peaceful, like a park on a summer morning, just before the joggers, kids and caregivers arrive. The front door is unlocked, and I push it open to reveal a large entrance hall, brightly lit through the bare windows. The floor, covered with a thick layer of dust, is solid marble, and the ceiling and walls are decorated with exquisite paneling and frescoes.
“Wow.” Cora is looking around, her eyes wide with awe. “It smells damp, but it’s totally worth it.”
“Seems there are many like it around the country. Abandoned, too expensive to maintain...they’re used for photoshoots sometimes.”
“Seems like such a waste.” She takes a picture of one painted wall, then of the exquisite architrave around a doorway, before walking into the next room, a living room with a dusty floor, mold patterned walls, and a quiet beauty in its decaying grandeur. In the center of the room, there’s an empty soda can on a dusty leather couch. Cora shakes her head. “I wouldn’t dream of littering here.”
I chuckle. “Like desecrating a holy place.”
“Exactly.” She takes a deep breath, then smiles. “It’s lovely though. It must have been beautiful when people still lived here.” She does a little dance around the couch. “I feel like a scene from some of my mother’s historical romances could have happened here.” She takes a picture of an imposing fresco above the cracked fireplace, and a statue of a Roman soldier carved into a wall. “So perfect.” She notices a door leading into a bright courtyard with a riot of flowers and weeds, and she runs outside, stopping at a silent, overgrown fountain. She raises her arms to the sun, then turns to look at me.
“I can’t believe there’s nobody interested in restoring this.”
I wish I had the money to spare, and time, so I could spend the next few years making this place perfect for her. Just for the way she appreciates the beauty beneath the decay.
“Nick...my college friend...bought one recently, and he’s turning it into a hotel or something. They’re expensive to maintain, that’s why owners abandon them. The more people discover them, the more they get restored.”
“They should all be purchased and restored.”
Back inside the house, she takes a few more pictures. Some rooms still have heavy damask curtains over the windows, there’s ruined furniture, there’s even a bedroom with a bed covered in sheets and years’ worth of dust.
“Heartbreaking,” Cora murmurs. “And lovely at the same time. This was someone’s dream home, and they put their heart into making it a reality.” She sighs. “Time ravages all things.”
“And enriches them too,” I say with a shrug. “Depending on your point of view.”
“I guess.” She goes to peer out the window and I join her there. In the distance, I can see a few buildings, trees, a grassy pond with ducks playing in the water. “What a view,” Cora says.
“Hmm.” I’ve turned from the window and I’m looking at her. “Perfect.”
She looks up at my face and grins at me, making her freckles dance. “I’m not perfect.”
