The Long Way Home - Page 25/38

Luce nodded on the last glass, "I can taste peaches, but it isn’t sweet. It's like the essence of peach is in the wine."

I smiled at his accent and palate, "Exactly. Aging wine in oak is a great way to add flavor to the wine. The oak barrels will make the wine take on whatever flavor is present while it ages. So if ripe peaches were in the room as the wine aged, the oak would soak up the flavor in the air and infuse the wine with it."

He sipped from the glass that looked like a toy in his huge hands.

I cocked my head, "I don’t know a lot of people from Israel but you seem huge."

He laughed, "I am above average for an Israeli man, but I'm not Israeli. My mother is actually a Brit from Saudi Arabia and my father is half Bahraini and the other half British. My mother was raised in Saudi because her father was an ambassador and my father was raised in Bahrain until he was thirteen. Then he was sent to school in England. He and my mother met there, at Oxford. My father works in Bahrain in banking. His family has always been in oil, banking, and trade. I was raised the same way he was. When I was thirteen, I was sent to London for school but I wanted to play hockey. My uncle lived in California so I was sent there when I was fourteen, and played in prep schools there. I was drafted from there."

I frowned, "How are you from Israel?"

He laughed, "I'm not. I lived there before I came here because I was in rehabilitation there. The best doctor for my injury lived there. I was in a car accident. Technically, I was drafted into the Italian league from Israel. I am not from there though. It is a beautiful place but not my homeland. I think of California as my home."

I laughed and walked to the red wine table, "So what are you?"

He laughed, "I am exactly what most Americans are, Heinz 57. I am mostly British with a quarter Bahraini and being born there, that is my nationality. I have duel citizenship."

"Luce is an odd name, it sounds Italian."

"It is. My mother's favorite teacher when she was a girl was an Italian named Lucian Merino. He was her philosophy teacher. I am Lucian Nooruddin."

I whistled, "That must have been a blast when you were a child."

He scoffed, "Luce has always been my nickname." He nudged me, "What are you?"

I shook my head, "Same as you. My father is French, Croix is pretty obvious. My mother is English. Her family came over on the Mayflower, very old money. Unfortunately, they lost it all. My parents both grew up on the East Coast. My mother was in the Hamptons and New York mostly and my father was in New York."

France poked his head into our conversation, "Your parents would love Luce's." His tone was harsh.

I scowled at him but Luce just laughed, "She explained them to me earlier; I doubt very much even I would get their approval." He was giving France a compliment but he didn’t get it. France shrugged indifferently, "They'll love the improvement in her. Caring about art, music, and theatre. You'll be a great influence on her. I mean, Phillip brought her so far, you should be able to get her the rest of the way, make a lady out of her, and get her the right connections. His family is friends with the Bush family and the Kennedys, you know that?"

My jaw dropped but Mike continued with his mockery. He pointed, "You never know, Luce. I thought she came here to ruin my engagement like I did hers. But maybe her parents sent her to snatch you up instead. We both know you’re the better catch. Any guy here, technically, could have had her with the way she was throwing it out there, but I'm glad it's you."

Luce shoved him slightly, "France, watch it, huh? You're drunk, stop. We're friends. You're being a dick."

Mike shoved him back but Luce was sober. He pulled Mike's shirt over his head and held him down, "Calm down, Mike. Stop. We're on the same team, man."

Mike tackled him into the table with the blush wines, crashing everything to the floor. The bottles smashed.

I jumped at Luce, "Are you aright?"

Mike got up and shoved me back and grabbed Luce, lifting him off the ground and punched him in the jaw. Luce took the hit well and tackled Mike into the wall. The plaster cracked.

"STOP!" I screamed.

Tex grabbed Mike and Arthur grabbed Luce. They held them back with the help of the rest of the team. I could see blood on Luce's back from the bottle. I lifted his shirt and winced, "You're going to need stitches."

He was breathing heavily when he shook his head, "Fuck with me again, Mike, or her…" He pointed. France looked at him from under the most evil face I'd ever seen grace his brow.

Daniela grabbed my arm, "J.D., you okay? I'm so sorry. I'll take him upstairs now. He'll be so sorry he said that tomorrow. You know how he feels about you. You're like a sister to him." She turned and gabbed France, "You are an asshole and you owe her a huge apology." She scolded him as she dragged him from the room. I stood there, frozen in the silence of them all. I looked up at Luce, "I'm so sorry. Excuse me." My words were barely audible.

I turned and ran from the hotel. I ran down the street in the direction I hoped was the right one. I passed the piazza we had been at earlier and ran down the cobblestone street. My boots clicked against the stone. I ran past a road but stopped when I realized it was the turn to the Piazza di Trevi. I walked slowly into the piazza, awestruck by the pain in my heart and the lit-up piazza. The whole fountain had a warm glow to it and the lights under the water made it magical. I sat on the stone ledge and tried to breathe. A terrible lump formed in my throat. I heard footsteps, dreading seeing Luce. The sound of the running water was overtaken by the footsteps of the man I never wanted to see again.

"Jack." His panicked face was twisted as if he were in pain.

Tears started instantly. The lump took over. I couldn’t talk or breathe. All I could do was sob.

I hugged myself as he drew closer. I put a hand out, shaking my sobbing face.

He stopped, "I don’t know what's gotten into me. I just don’t know which way is right."

I looked down, crying silently in the dark and nearly-empty piazza.

He walked to me slowly, "You and me, we're crazy and explosive and fun. I wanted you my whole life and you refused to come down to my level. You let me touch you and be with you, but you never gave me a real chance. I thought if I did a grand gesture, you would see how much I loved you. I didn’t have the courage to do it so I got drunk and the courage came." He was right in front of me. He dropped to his knees, taking my hands in his, "I fucked up so bad and I don’t know how to fix it."

I closed my eyes and let the silent tears drip down my cheeks. Small raindrops started to hit me sporadically.

"You just make me feel so unworthy."

I looked up, "I never meant to."

He nodded. I could see the tears in his eyes, "I know."

I sniffled, "I just never was as strong as you. I needed you to be brave. You made me strong. I could stand up to them and walk away because you were there for me."

He ran a hand down my cheek, "But I wasn’t was I? I made you be brave and then I left you to deal with it all." He leaned in close to me, "I'm sorry, Jack."

I shook my head, "We can't do this. You're engaged."

He looked down, "It's like you said. I was just rebounding."

I sighed, "You never even gave me a chance, Mike. You assumed how my life went and never gave me a chance."

His words became a whisper, "You broke my heart."

I nodded, "Then I guess we're even." I pushed him back and got up. I hugged myself and walked to the road I had come in on. The skies opened and rained down on Rome.

"No, we're not."

I looked back at him, barely able to hear him through the bouncing rain, "What?"

"We're not even, Jack. Not by a long shot."

I shook my head, "What more can you ruin for me, Mike?"

He got up and stormed across the piazza, lifting me up into his arms, "I can ruin you for every other man in the world." He brushed his soaked lips against mine. The rain poured down on our kiss, mixing with my tears, washing them away.

I shook my head, “You already did.”

He whispered into the side of my face, “Then be mine, Jack. Be my girl.”

I nodded, and let him kiss me harder, he finished and held me tightly. I took my chance at finally telling him the thing I needed to. “I have to tell you something first. Remember how I told you I wasn’t always a good girl? I had done some bad things that you didn’t know about?”

He stayed frozen, holding onto me.

I took a breath, “I had an abortion.”

His body tensed around mine but I shook my head, “It wasn’t yours. It was Phil’s. That’s when I started taking the pills from Dr. Michaels. Phil didn’t want to have a baby yet. He talked to my dad and they agreed, and I let them make me agree too.”

He shook his head, “I may kill that man yet.”

I sighed, “Just love me instead.”

He kissed the top of my head, “Baby, I always have loved you. I have to go tell Daniela that.”

I shook my head, “I feel bad for her.”

He laughed, “Yeah well, she’s a big girl.” He sounded cold about it, like he was okay with the decision. We walked back to the hotel holding onto each other.

I didn’t feel better abut telling him my secret; nothing could ever make that okay.

Monday Morning

I stared at the ceiling of the room and wondered how it had gone. He was breaking things off with her. It didn’t feel right or wrong, it was too big to try to classify.

A knock at the door interrupted my pondering the essence of life and why God was against me. I got up, surprised to see Luce there. His lip was puffy.

"How's your back?" I asked quickly.

He grimaced, "Six stitches." He turned around and lifted his shirt. There was a huge bandage covering it all. I could see bruises over his back muscles.