Page 43 of Gelato at the Villa (Suitcase Sisters #2)

I wanted to laugh at the exuberance of it all.

It was after ten o’clock, and it appeared that this was the most exciting thing the locals had seen in a long time.

When the man on the ladder reached his intended destination of the building on the other side of the road, the comments quieted.

Everyone watched to see him complete his mission.

But instead of attaching the end of the banner to the waiting hook, he motioned for his accomplice to extend the ladder farther down the building.

The bright light was adjusted, and his new target was revealed.

Two young women in scoop-neck tops were leaning out of their second-story window, waving and smiling at the hero.

The cheers and jeers of the townsfolk changed in tone and volume. It reminded me of a reenactment of a medieval passion play I had gone to with my parents on one of our trips to Europe. The actors in Germany were trained to evoke emotions in the audience.

These Italian guys were upstaging those professional actors without knowing it.

Our growing audience reacted as one. Would the brave knight reach the damsels?

Would he be rewarded for his grand gesture?

The word “baci” rose from the crowd, and I recognized the Italian word for “kiss.” Shamelessly, I joined in the chant.

Without warning, the ladder wobbled dangerously. Claire grabbed my arm, and we gasped along with the rest of the party. The women changed their signals from “come hither” to shouts and motions that clearly meant “Save yourself!”

Two more significant shimmies of the ladder had us gasping again before the rickety device was maneuvered back to stability and the brave knight was realigned with the hook.

He made quick work of attaching the banner.

The crowd erupted in wild applause and cheers as if he had just won an Olympic event.

If anyone within five blocks had been trying to sleep, it would have been pointless.

Although it was hard to believe anyone in town was still in their homes.

The crowd had grown and now included old women wearing nightgowns with shawls and a few little ones in pajamas riding on their fathers’ shoulders and rubbing their eyes.

We clapped along with the other fans and let our laughter mix with their cheers.

The ladder slowly retracted, and the Cirque du Soleil performance came to an end.

The women in the window blew kisses to everyone below.

A man next to Claire gave her a friendly nudge with his elbow and started talking in Italian.

His expression made it seem like he was raving about the great performance.

Claire went with the flow and kept saying, “Sì, sì.”

As soon as the hook-and-ladder man was back on Mother Earth, he gave his adoring fans all the gestures and bows of a conquering hero while the applause continued.

We hung around with the others until the fire truck was on its way down the road.

Our hero leaned out the passenger-side window, waving vigorously as if this was his final curtain call.

The crowd dispersed, still discussing, still elbowing each other. A few raindrops splattered on us as we set off on our walk to the hotel. Neither of us could stop smiling and unleashing spontaneous, sporadic giggles, just like the teen girls in the piazza.

“What was the banner for?” Claire asked.

“It looked like an announcement for a concert because it had dates and musical notes in the corner.”

“I think you’re right. That was hilarious. I will never forget that.” As she unlocked the door to our room, Claire added, “I will never forget any of this. I’m so glad we came.”

“Me too.”

Once we were in our warm beds, I said, “I don’t want to think about this, but tomorrow is our last full day. How do you want to spend it?”

“You know how you managed to take some downtime at the pool at the villa? I want to do that here tomorrow. I know there’s lots we could see, but it’s like I said earlier today. I want to sit and take some time to absorb all this and enjoy it without needing to dash off.”

“Good. I was hoping you felt that way.”

“I want to try some sketching.” Claire turned off the light. “And I have some thinking to do.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. Let’s save it all for tomorrow. I want to fall asleep with the image of the fire truck escapade playing over and over in my dreams. That had to be one of the funniest and cutest things I’ve ever seen. I wish I had thought to pull out my camera and record it all.”

I smiled, closed my eyes, and let the entertaining memory roll me into a dream in which everyone was speaking in Italian.

I woke to the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway and people speaking in what sounded like a Slavic language. Claire heard it too and turned over with a groan. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. I can’t believe we slept so long!

We needed that.” I stood and pulled back the curtains.

Our balcony glistened with raindrops clinging to the metal railing.

The sun seemed determined to take center stage while the clouds kept trying to steal the show.

“Looks like we had more rain last night. I hope it didn’t soak the banner. ”

“The banner.” Claire sat up and grinned. “I want to be here when the boys come back in the fire truck to take it down.”

I chuckled and opened the glass doors to the balcony.

I couldn’t tell if the sun would grace us fully or if it would be a game of hide-and-seek with her all day.

The delight of the fresh air and the sound of the birds rushed to greet me.

I saw one of the birds in a treetop. He was shaking his wings and hopping from branch to branch as if trying to find a dry spot.

Our leisurely day began with us taking our time to get ready and enjoying the balcony.

By the time we ventured from our room, the outdoor restaurant was open, and we were among the first to be taken to the dried-off chairs under a covering of mature, healthy vines.

I noted that the nearly tree-size vines sprouted from half a dozen spots and intertwined themselves above us.

The pink flowers that curled up and throughout the long trellis were a variety of climbing roses that clearly adored this climate.

I loved that the air was so fresh. The only things that separated us from the view of the rocky edge of the shore below were wooden planters hung on the metal railing that ran the length of the restaurant.

I felt as if I were sitting in a flower bed, and my heart was so happy I could hardly stand it.

“I need a pergola,” I declared before we even looked at the menus. “You can help us figure out all the regulations and permits, right?”

“It’s what I do every day,” Claire said. “That is, every day in my other life back in California. Today, in my life in Northern Italy, I am about to eat something delicious.”

“I want to have a cement slab poured in our backyard,” I continued.

“Then have a pergola built over it. I think it will be more permanent that way. I’ll string some lights and plant the right climbing rose that grows well in our zone.

Or wisteria. Oh, wouldn’t I love my own pergola with dripping wisteria! ”

Claire nodded her agreement while she studied the lunch menu. “This is going to cost more than I expected, but I can tell you right now, it is going to be worth it. I am so hungry.”

I pushed my menu aside without looking at it. “Would you order for me?”

“Are you serious?” Claire looked as if her dearest wish had just come true. “Okay, yes. You don’t mind eating rabbit, do you? They also have dishes with wild boar and deer. I’m so excited.”

At first I didn’t think she was serious, but she was.

She had been spot-on before when it came to food selections, and she was right again.

Our multicourse meal was incredible. I’m not sure exactly what everything was, and I didn’t ask because it seemed better not to picture a fluffy little bunny while I was chewing.