Sing For Me (11 page)

Most of the time, those patients were kept away from the rest of them anyway.

Christopher moved over to the couch. “I’m not exactly sure what condition … she has. She always seemed reluctant to talk about it, so … I never forced her to tell me.”

She sat beside him. “But you know something’s wrong.”

His head bobbed up and down in a slow rhythm. “You know how makeup artists carry around a bag filled with cosmetics? She has one like that, but it’s filled with pills.”

“That must be a lot of pills.”

“Yeah, but she seemed fine. She has alarms … to remind her to take … them. I was kind of afraid … that she was so stressed about having … to cover up my addiction that she got hospitalized. Toward … the end, I was drunk most … of the time, so I didn’t … know what’s going on around me half the … time.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault, and she seems fine when she was here just now.”

“And you? Are you all right?”

She looked up at him. “Do you think Rebecca is a common name?”

“Why? Are you intending to … change your name?”

She shot him a bored stare and shook her head. “The person who’s blackmailing my friend for a song; her name is Rebecca, too.”

“It can’t be such … a coincidence.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” She got up and cocked her head to the side. “So, Italy.”

He grinned and joined her. “We start off in Rome.”

“You’ll love Rome.”

“Then we’ll head down to Assisi.”

She grinned. “What about Florence? And we have to go to Pisa.”

“Before it actually … collapses.”

She laughed and nodded, then delved into all the other places they had to go.

“We should just stay at your … house,” Christopher said while looking at the map in his hands.

Chloe had at the last minute decided to stay at a hotel instead of her apartment in Rome. She didn’t mind staying at her apartment until her landlord called and asked what she wanted her to do with all the flowers Jason had been sending.

Jason’s persistence was perplexing. Over the past few days, he’d been calling and texting her. She didn’t answer his calls at first, but she did read his messages. Each of his texts stated how sorry he was and begged her to forgive him.

When she finally did pick up his call, she assured him that she’d forgiven him, but that wasn’t all he was seeking. He still insisted that he wanted to marry her.

She trotted behind Christopher, dragging her suitcase along. “I’m afraid Jason will just show up at my apartment.”

“So what if … if he shows up?”

“He’s been rather whiny on the phone, and I’d rather not deal with that while we’re on holiday.” Her suitcase twisted to the side as one of its wheels dropped into the dent on the road.

“Here.” Christopher grabbed her suitcase. “Let me.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t even bring a suitcase.”

Christopher shrugged, jiggling his backpack. “This is more than … enough.” He looked at the map in his hand. “It should be … right ahead.”

“Ah, there! I see it.” She went ahead and walked into the hotel.

“Your suitcase is … rather light. Are you sure you … have enough clothes?” Christopher asked as he carried the suitcase up two flight of stairs to where the lift was.

She nodded. “I’m sure the hotel has laundry services. Besides, if I do need more clothes, I can always sneak home to get them.”

“
Buongiorno
.” The man sitting behind the wooden desk smiled and stood.

“
Buongiorno
,” Chloe replied and proceeded to inform the man about their reservation.

The man continued speaking Italian to her, glancing periodically to Christopher, who simply stood, smiled, and nodded.

When she could, she let the man know that Christopher didn’t speak Italian, and that led to the usual conversation about how impressed he was with her Italian.

After a couple of minutes, the man handed her two keys.

“Enjoy your stay. Let me know if there’s anything you need,” the man said to Christopher.

“Thanks.”

They went back to the lift and waited.

“This is the … the slowest lift I’ve ever seen,” Christopher said while glancing around.

“It’s actually quite common in Italy. Most of the buildings are rather old.” She stepped toward the stairs and placed her hand on the wooden handrail. “But the city is beautiful.”

Christopher grinned and tapped his feet against the floor. “The marble floorings you kept talking about.”

“Lots of buildings in Rome have marble floorings. Makes me wonder if they’re actually cheaper here or something.”

He laughed.

“Here.” She held out the two key cards. “Which room do you want?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Are they next to each … other?”

“Why?” She arched a brow. “Because you got the better room for me, but the smaller room for yourself?”

His brows rose, but he didn’t say anything.

“I speak Italian, Chris,” she said. “Did you do that for all the other hotels as well?”

He flashed a smile and she frowned.

“Anyway, Mike, the guy I was talking to, upgraded you so that our rooms will be next to each other.” She thrust one of her hands forward.

“I don’t need a big room.”

“Neither do I. It’s just for sleeping anyway.” She smiled.

After placing her suitcase in the room, Christopher looked at his watch. “Do you want to get some rest?”

“Yes. We’ll just go out for dinner tonight. I know just the place. Then if we’re not too tired after that, we can maybe go to the Trevi fountain.”

He nodded and turned. “If you need any … anything, I’m just next door.”

She grinned and leaned against the door. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

When they were young, they used to talk about exploring the world together, and they had been talking about Italy since they watched the documentary on the Roman empire. It seemed somewhat unreal that they were actually in Italy together.

“So am I.”

“
Mi scuzi.
”

They turned and smiled at the hotel staff holding a bottle of wine. The staff rattled off in Italian. When the staff was done speaking, she turned to Christopher with an awkward smile. “The boss wants us to have the bottle of wine.”

“Looks like they love Italian-speaking people.”

“They do.” She noticed how much more helpful and cheerful people were to her when she started conversing in Italian, even when she couldn’t form a proper sentence without taking at least a minute. She turned back to the staff, told him that they appreciated it, but they didn’t drink.

The staff’s brows rose, but quickly nodded and went away.

Chloe pursed her lips. “Do you still have the urge to drink?”

His head tipped to the side. “I think the urge will always be there; that’s why they call us recovering alcoholics.”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry. I know Italy is known for its wine.”

Chloe shrugged. “I’m not the partying kind. In fact, I’ve been told that I’m too proper.” She smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “If you ever find yourself reaching for alcohol, I hope I’ll be the first person you call before you actually touch the bottle.”

“What if it’s in the middle of the night?”

“Anytime,” she said. “See you tonight.”

“Are you sure you’re heading in the right direction?” Christopher asked when Chloe hooked her arm around his and leaned her weight against him.

She tipped her head against his shoulder. “I can already see the colors from the fountain.”

“We should’ve just taken a cab.”

“Then we wouldn’t be able to experience the city.”

“You mean
I
wouldn’t be able to experience the city.”

Chloe had pointed out her apartment to him not too far back. She would have seen all the sights around this area.

She shrugged and continued forward. “It’s right around the corner.”

The rush of water and murmurs, along with an almost palpable sense of excitement grew as they got nearer. When they turned the corner, a bright orange glow hinted at the sight to come.

People lined the other side of the road, looking down at what he assumed was the Trevi fountain. “It looks crowded.”

“It always is, especially in summer,” she said. “But I think it’s much better on a cool night like this, isn’t it?” She beamed at him, her fair skin radiating under the low yellow hue.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She paused and her grin grew wider. “You don’t have to say something sweet just because we’re going to one of the most romantic spots in the world.” She slipped her arm from his and took a few steps forward.

The area around his arm cooled immediately.

“Come on.” She cocked her head to the side and stuffed her hands into her coat’s pockets.

He hadn’t meant to voice his thought aloud.

He grinned and widened his strides as she half jogged across the road.

She stood behind a black wrought-iron bar that came up to her hips and stared at the fountain with the widest grin.

Christopher watched her as he got beside her. “You look excited. You’ve been here before, right?”

She nodded. “But this is where I’ve always stood.” She grabbed his elbow and dragged him down the steps, closer to the fountain. “There’s a seat.” She pointed at a couple who had just stood from the stone steps that doubled as seats.

“Hi, I’m sorry.”

Christopher and Chloe stopped and looked at a young American couple.

“Do you mind taking a photo of us?”

Christopher smiled and took the phone from the young man. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll … be right with you.”

“Okay.” Chloe gave the couple a smile and nod.

He positioned the phone, but stole a peek at Chloe to make sure she was seated before turning back to the couple. “Ready? One, two, three.” He clicked on the plus button and captured the photo.

“One more shot,” the young lady pleaded and leaned closer to her boyfriend.

He nodded and repeated the whole procedure.

“Thanks.” The lady took the phone and examined the photos. “Thanks, they look great.”

“You’re … welcome.”

“Wait,” the lady suddenly said. “Are you Christopher Hunter? I thought I recognized the wrong person, but your stutter—I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m Christopher.”

“Oh, can we take a photo together?”

Christopher looked at Chloe.

“It’ll just take a minute.”

“Eva, he’s with someone,” the man said.

“Please.”

Christopher sighed softly. “Yeah, sure.”

The woman hopped next to him and pressed against him as her boyfriend took the photo. “Thanks!”

Christopher shrugged. “You’re welcome,” he said and turned without waiting for a reply. He didn’t want to keep Chloe waiting.

When he was halfway down the steps, a man approached Chloe and took a seat next to her.

The man said something to Chloe, and she seemed to reply without any expression.

Undeterred, the man continued talking to Chloe, who didn’t bother to reply him.

He walked up to her while watching the man to make sure he didn’t try anything stupid.

When he got nearer, Chloe looked up at him and broke into a brilliant smile as her hand reached out for his.

He took her hand and glared at the man next to her. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m just leaving.” The man stood and left.

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”

She laughed softly. “They’re professionals.”

“Professionals?”

“That wasn’t the first time the guy tried to pick me up. There are a couple of guys who come here to pick lonely women up. Lovely city.” She waved her hand at the fountain in front of her. “Romantic fountain, and couples all around.”

He looked at the stone sculptures. One large stone sculpture of a muscular man stood under a half-dome like that of the Pantheon. Two female sculptures, one holding a basket of flowers while the other held a spear, flanked the man.

The rich details in the carvings of the dresses brought out a softness that he never thought was possible in stones.

The majestic sculptures were further softened by the greenish-blue water cascading down the rocks and into the pond. The soft, constant splashing of water in the background definitely set the tone of romance.

“They even have a point system. One point for getting a number, two points if the woman calls, three points if she allows the guy to kiss her.”
 

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “We can come back here over the weekends, and you’ll see the same guy trying to pick someone up.”

“How did you know?”

“I always have my breakfast at the same cafe, and the owner warned me about them when he found out I was coming here.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Is that why you never dared to come close to the fountain?”

“No,” she said, staring at the fountain, then she looked over her shoulder. “I just felt out of place whenever I was here.” She pulled her lower lip in and chewed on it before shrugging. “I don’t know why.”

“You didn’t come here with … Jason?”

“No,” she said and laughed. “Jason and I were never the lovey-dovey sort of couple.”

As childish as he was to get jealous over Josh, he was silly enough to find that piece of information rather delightful. “Well, you’re here now.”

“It’s a beautiful place, right?”

“It is,” he said.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Clearing his throat, he blinked and looked away. He didn’t realize he was that obvious. “So, I haven’t asked you this. How … have you been for the last eight years?”

She laughed softly. “All right, I guess.”

“Did you think about me?” He’d been wanting to ask her that question. He watched her intently.

She hesitated. “Did
you
think about me?”

“All the time,” he answered without missing a beat. “You’re … the reason I stopped drinking.”

Her brows drew closer.

“After I checked myself out of rehab, I got my … hands on a bottle of … vodka and hid it under my bed. I was waiting for my mom … to … to leave the house before drinking. But right before …. she left, she popped by and … told me that Josh invited you to his birthday party.”