Until Tomorrow (32 page)

“No, can you believe it? Remember the guy we talked to on the train to Paris? He dropped them. I've been meaning to mail them for the last week.”

Todd stretched his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. “My little Good Samaritan,” he teased.

Christy liked feeling him close to her, especially when he smelled fresh, like soap and shampoo. She slipped her arm around his middle and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Come on, you two snuggle bugs,” Katie said. “We have to find some food. I don't care anymore if it's a tourist trap. Let's find our way to San Marcos Square.”

Following the map and crossing several bridges, they were almost to San Marcos Square when Christy caught the scent of garlic in the air. “Oh, just smell that.”

Katie sniffed and began to follow the scent. It led them down a narrow alley to a tiny place that looked like a pizzeria. The door was open, but no one was inside.

“Should we go in?” Christy asked.

“Hello?” Katie boldly entered. “Ciao. Do you sell any chow here?”

A short, round woman wearing a white apron over her dress greeted them. “Americanos!” she said. “Come in. You are hungry, yes?”

“Yes!” all three of them answered in unison.

“You like to make your own pizza?” the woman asked. “I am, how do you say . . . breaking now.”

“You're taking a break?” Todd said. “Sure. We'd love to make our own pizza.” He walked behind the counter and went to wash his hands in a small sink. Christy and Katie followed him.

“You tell us what to do, and we'll do it,” Todd said. “By the way, I'm Todd. This is Katie and Christy. We're from California.”

“I am Cassandra. We lived in New York for a little while. What kind of pizza do you like?”

“Any kind,” Todd answered for them. “Did you hurt your foot?” He motioned to where her right leg was resting on a stool.

“Yes. I did this morning.”

“Have you put ice on it?”

“No.”

“Here.” Todd made himself at home, looking through the small refrigerator in the back while Katie and Christy grinned self-consciously. He returned with a towel wrapped around a hunk of cold mozzarella cheese. “It's not ice-cold, but this should help.”

“You are an angel,” Cassandra said dramatically. “Come here. Let me kiss you.”

Todd bent over to apply the chilled mozzarella to the ankle, and Cassandra kissed him with a big smack on both cheeks. Christy thought she saw him blushing.

“Where do you keep the pizza dough?” Todd asked, reaching for an apron he saw under the counter.

For the next two hours Christy thought she had never laughed so much in her life. While Cassandra sat with her foot up, Todd, Katie, and Christy learned the fine art of tossing pizza dough into the air and then covering it with Cassandra's special tomato sauce. Two young girls entered the pizzeria while Todd was sliding their masterpiece pizza into the oven with a wide paddle.

Cassandra said something to the girls in Italian. They giggled, took a seat, and watched Todd as the perspiration glistened on his forehead.

“I told them you would make their pizza,” Cassandra said. “One Todd Special coming right up.”

This time Katie tried her hand at tossing the dough into the air. Christy was certain it would come down over her head like in a cartoon, but Katie actually was better at the task than Todd had been. At Cassandra's insistence, Christy gave it a try, but on the first toss, her fist went right through the middle. She ended up wearing the pizza crust like a huge, sagging bracelet around her wrist.

“You spread it out too thin,” Cassandra said. “Try it again.” Christy's second attempt was a twirling, flying success and gained her a round of applause.

Todd served the first slice of his pizza to Cassandra with a towel over his arm, like a classy waiter. Cassandra praised him and offered him a job.

“Hmm,” Todd said, playfully rubbing his chin as if seriously contemplating her offer.

“Remember,” Christy said, “the need is not the call.”

Todd laughed and wrapped his arm around Christy's shoulders. He turned to Cassandra and said, “Sorry, but my girlfriend says no.”

“Ahh!” Cassandra said excitedly. “Your girlfriend, is she? Why didn't you tell me?” The woman worked to get to her feet, all the while saying, “Stand there. Wait.”

Once she was up, she patted her apron, and a cloud of fine white flour rose up to encircle them. “I must give to you a blessing.”

As Todd stood there with his arm around Christy's shoulder, she slipped her arm around his middle. Cassandra raised her hands and pressed her fingers on each of their closed lips. She spoke a melodic-sounding string of Italian words. Then
she pulled her hands back to her lips, where she kissed her fingers and then pressed her fingers to their cheeks.

With a wistful look, Cassandra said, “I do not know how to say it in English. It is not the same. I wish for you all God's goodness.”

“Thank you,” Christy said in barely a whisper. “Grazie, Cassandra. Molte grazie.”

“Molte grazie,” Todd repeated, squeezing Christy's shoulder and pulling her close.

“Do you happen to have any blessings for those of us who are still available?” Katie asked.

Cassandra didn't seem to understand Katie's question.

“She wants a blessing, too,” Todd explained.

“You come back here when you have a man, and I will bless you both.”

Christy thought those words would break Katie's heart, but to Christy's surprise, her friend didn't make a joke or let out a forlorn moan. Katie stood tall and said, “I'll do that someday, Cassandra. You wait. I'll be back. And whoever he is, he'll be worth every word of your blessing.”

Christy had never felt more proud of her friend.

It took Todd, Christy, and Katie several hours before they could pull themselves away from Cassandra's pizzeria. The next stop was Savini Jewelers.

From outside, the shop didn't look like much. But once they stepped inside, they realized they were in an exclusive and expensive jewelry store. A glittering, golden chandelier hung from an ornate, domed ceiling. Marble statues stood guard in each corner. Cushioned sofas covered in gold brocade enabled buyers to sit back in comfort as they browsed the lowered glass cases.

A large man in a black suit immediately stepped up to Todd, Christy, and Katie. He looked like a bouncer.

“Hi. How's it going? We'd like to speak with Marcos Savini, if he's here,” Todd said.

“Mr. Savini is not in,” the bouncer said.

“Okay, but we were wondering about his son,” Katie explained. “Is Marcos here?”

“Mr. Carlos Savini is not here, and Mr. Marcos Savini is not here,” the hulking man said.

“Could we leave a message for him?” Katie asked.

The bouncer pulled a business card from his pocket and opened the door for them to leave.

“Thanks.” Katie took the card. As soon as they were all outside she said, “Boy, was that the opposite of Cassandra's or what? I take it they don't like poor American college students around here. I guess we're not welcome here the way we were at Antonio's.”

“Should we try calling and leaving a message?” Christy asked.

“No,” Katie said. “He's probably out of town anyway.”

“Let's go exploring,” Todd suggested. “I want to check out San Marcos Square.”

The sight that impressed Christy most in the square was the pigeons. They were everywhere. People held out hands full of food that could be purchased at vendor carts, and the birds would come and sit on their hands to eat. One little boy was frozen with a mixture of terror and delight as two birds sat on his head and four more perched on his arms. A man spoke to him in German and stepped back to take the boy's picture. Christy pulled out her camera and snapped a few shots of the square. She had taken only three rolls of film the whole trip. Most of the time she had been so busy absorbing and observing that she hadn't thought to use her camera.

That afternoon she made up for it by finishing the roll of film in the camera and taking another entire roll. She took pictures of the unique church at the end of San Marcos
Square and then shots of the square from the top of the church. She took several shots of the Rialto Bridge as the gondolas passed under it.

Katie didn't bring up the topic of a gondola ride, and Christy didn't, either, because she had read in the tour book that the gondolas could be very expensive. It was doubtful if they had enough money left to rent one. She wondered if Katie had figured that out, as well.

Or are the gondolas another
Lille Havfrue,
an illusive mermaid we traversed the globe to find? Now that we're here, is Katie feeling it's no big deal? Why do so many things in life turn out like that? Like the fjords and the castles
.

By sunset, all three of them were exhausted. The all-nighter at the Milan train station and walking around all afternoon had caught up with them. Christy wasn't even hungry. All she wanted to do was sleep.

The next morning Katie was the first one up, and she woke Christy. “Come on, sunshine,” she teased. “Venice awaits you.”

“What time is it?” Christy asked.

“Almost nine. This is a new record for you, isn't it? Todd and I have been up for hours. We went for coffee, and I brought you back a pastry. Wait until you taste this one. I think this is the winner of the trip so far.” Katie held out a flaky pastry shaped like a cone and filled with chocolate.

“I can see why you liked this one,” Christy said, indulging in a big bite while she was still in bed. “Thanks for bringing it back for me. Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”

“No problem. I've decided that today none of us is going to apologize to anyone for anything. This is our last day; it's going to be perfect.”

Christy thought the delicious pastry was a pretty perfect way to start the day. She felt like a new person after so much sleep.

After she took a quick shower, Todd arranged for them to take a boat to the island of Murano to watch the glassblowers. Christy loved being out on the water and feeling the wind in her hair. She was standing by the rail snapping pictures when Todd came up behind her. He put both his hands on the rail so that Christy stood securely within the circle he had created.

“I don't want you to go,” Christy said softly.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Todd pressed his cheek against the side of her head.

“Yes, you are. Tomorrow at this time you'll be on a plane back to California, and I'll be in class. No, actually, my first class will be over, and I'll be at my little Konditorei, drowning my sorrows in whatever Marguerite baked.”

“Our plane doesn't leave Zürich until two tomorrow afternoon,” Todd said.

“Okay, so I'll be at the Konditorei, and you'll be at the airport. We'll still be apart, Todd. I don't want tomorrow to come.” She turned and buried her head in his shoulder. She wanted Todd to tell her he would leap into the sky, lasso the sun, and with his bare hands hold it back from circling the globe so that this day would never end. Or if he wouldn't attempt that, she wanted him to at least kiss her.

But Todd did neither.

The aching she felt inside only grew as they toured the island of Murano. They watched a skilled craftsman demonstrate the ancient art of blowing glass through a long, hollow pipe and then quickly shaping the fiery hot liquid into vases. On the boat ride back, Todd talked with a retired track coach and his wife from Ohio, while Christy stood alone at the rail, watching the lacy ripples the boat produced in the water.

“We need to make some decisions,” Todd said once the three of them had disembarked and found a shady spot to stand.

“I think we should try calling Marcos again,” Katie said.

“I don't know if we'll have time to see him,” Todd pointed out. “We need to check out of the hotel by 1:00, which is in twenty minutes. I've checked the schedule, and we have a couple of times when we can catch the train. No matter which train we decide on, it takes ten hours to reach Basel.”

“That long?” Katie said. “I thought we were closer. I also think we need to walk while we talk so we can get to the hotel in time to check out. If they decide to charge us an extra night, I don't know if we could pay for it.”

Todd started to walk and asked Christy, “Do you think it's okay if we stay at the dorms tonight in Basel?”

“Sure. Then would you take the train to Zürich in the morning?”

“Yes. It's only an hour from Basel to Zürich.”

“I know.” Christy wondered if that would allow them time for a short visit to her Konditorei. If they could fit that into the schedule, somehow she felt saying good-bye wouldn't be as hard.

“We could take the 2:00 train and be in Basel by midnight. Three other trains leave after that one. The last one would be the 8:30 train. That one would take us into Basel at 6:30 Monday morning, which is cutting it close for Christy's class.”

“That's okay.” Christy wanted to be with Todd as long as she could, and she didn't mind going to class directly from the train. If she could cut that class, she would. That way she could go to Zürich with Todd and Katie and see them off for their 2:00 flight. But the summer term was so short. If she missed even one class, her grade could be dropped as much as half a grade. Since her grades last term weren't the best, she knew she needed to do all she could to keep her scores high. Otherwise the partial scholarship she had been awarded for Rancho Corona in the fall could be affected. “We could take
that last train. That would give us a few more hours here in Venice.”

Katie, who was agreeing with everything that day, said she thought that was a great idea. Todd suggested they retrieve their packs, go to the train station to see about making reservations, and then, with whatever money they had left, they could fill up on pizza.