The next day was a flurry of cleaning, shopping, and list-making. Hazel had walked down to the town at one point to the phone shop to see if she could buy a local phone card. She still hadn’t been able to make or receive calls on her plan and was getting anxious about being cut off from Liz and Slimy Samuel. The visit to the shop had been hopeless. When she arrived, she’d had to stand around for forty-five minutes in a crowd that was pretending to be a queue. No one seemed to have the faintest clue what turn-taking was all about. The old ladies were the worst - they just assumed they were allowed to the front of the line and pushed their way through. She had been just about to lose her temper when the girl at the counter had called on her. After fifteen minutes of stilted conversation in the girl’s limited English and her non-existent Italian, she managed to get her requirements across. The girl took the next ten minutes opening her phone and locating the SIM card and then had asked for her passport.

“My passport?”

“Si. I cannot sell you a phone card unless I have a photocopy of your passport.”

“You can’t sell me a phone card unless you have a copy of my passport?”

“Correct. It is the rules of government.”

It seemed to Hazel that she’d been on the verge of tears for a week; since the moment in the conference room when Shannon had told Samuel to go first. She managed to hold the tears in until she had gathered up her phone and wallet and left the SIM card on the counter. She pushed through the crowd and stepped onto the cobblestones before her tears could spill over.

“Damn it!”

She couldn’t go back to the house now. Her mother would be all over her in an instant. She would be borderline ecstatic to see her oldest in tears. According to Indigo, all emotion should be set free. An emotion not expressed was poison for your internal organs.

Hazel saw an expanse of green diagonally across the road to her right and figured that a walk in the park might cheer her up and shake the cobwebs out of her head. After a rest she would go back to the house, get her passport and then visit the phone shop again. Although she couldn’t understand why on earth she needed a passport to buy a ten Euro SIM card. It was like Interpol or something.

She was halfway across the road when the vision in front of her caused her to stop dead in the middle of the road. A car, cruising around the corner from her left, had to swerve around her and blew an angry horn.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she called out to the driver as he sped away and she hurried to the opposite sidewalk. She looked up at the sight before her that had, literally, stopped her in her tracks, nearly getting herself run down in the process. It was an old abandoned hotel. It was amazing.

Although it’s crumbling facade spoke of better days, the old hotel had not lost its sense of dignity. In front of her was a four-story building fronted by a large open patio. At the rear of the patio were six giant archways filled with glass. In the center of each glass archway was a large double door leading into the building. The top three floors were set back from the archways, and so there was enough room for an expansive balcony patio that was surrounded by a decorative iron railing. The plaster around windows of the top three floors was decorated with fading floral murals, and the middle window was fronted by a tiny Juliet balcony. At the very top of the grand, old dame was a painted sign, also fading, that read “Albergo Roma.”

What a shame it was empty and abandoned. What a beautiful addition it would make to this already charming town. And this town was charming. Hazel was suddenly aware of how tense she was. The crisp air, the shouts of the children, the slow pace, should be seriously chilling her out, and she could feel the town working on her, trying it’s hardest to sooth her, but her body resisted.

She got a little reprieve when she turned right into the shady park. Her shoulders relaxed and tears no longer threatened. Taking a seat on a wooden bench, freshly painted for the summer season, she looked around at the buzzing life at the heart of this town. Mothers with their babies in prams stood in gossiping clusters. Little ones raced around together, looking as though they belonged to no one and no adult could touch them; onto the slide, over to the swings, a lap around the paths. Old people sat on the benches, holding hands, heads close together gossiping and complaining. She was surprised to find herself smiling.

“It makes you happy, no?”

An older man had made himself comfortable on the bench next to her. She smiled. “Yes. It does. Everyone here seems to be so relaxed. It must be a nice feeling.”

“You are not feeling like this?” The man took a folded newspaper from under his arm and set it on his lap. A small child ran up and gave him a high-five. “Be good, Luca!” he called after the boy.

When was the last time she had felt relaxed? Hazel couldn’t remember. Just thinking about being relaxed made her anxious. That was telling. “No. I haven’t felt relaxed in a long time.”

“Then maybe you are not making life right, no?” He held his hand out to her, “I’m Atillio,” he said. “Piacere.”

His kind and generous smile made her feel a little weepy again, so she swallowed hard and took his hand. “I’m Hazel,” she said.

“I know.” He laughed at her expression. “Don’t be surprised. Everyone in Borgotaro knows everything. But we are not dangerous. You are here to fix the Zanre house, no?”

“Yes,” Hazel said. “Did you know her? Maria Zanre?”

“Of course! And your mother too! She was quite a breath of fresh air all those years ago. I am glad to see her back. Borgotaro suits her.”

“You knew her back then? And what about the boy she was with? Did you know him too?”

“Of course.” He stood up to leave. Hazel was dying to ask him more but didn’t want to be rude. She would look out for him again. “Now, I think if you would like to relax, we can play some music for you tonight. Come to the square in the center of the village. The Quora it is called. We are starting the summer season for all of our tourists, and there will be music. You should let a little Borgotaro seep under your skin.”

* * *

Back at the house, Hazel sat at the tiny desk in her bedroom and shuffled the pile of lists she had made that day. The first item on the first to-do list was “Buy SIM Card.” She had a feeling it was going to take a while to get through this stack. Maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew. She could check off the next one though. Write to Dad.

Dear Daddy

Can you believe I let Mother tempt me into one of her crazy adventures? We are here, in a little town in Italy, renovating a house. Crazy right? Don’t worry; I haven’t forgotten my career. If I do this right, I’ll be back in Jax just in time for the partnership announcement and with enough money in my pocket from the proceeds of this house to contribute to my equity stake. Don’t worry about Slimy Samuel. He’ll screw up, and Liz will just remind the Board who was supposed to have that project in the first place.

Did you know Mom had been here before? I’ll bet she took off for Europe while you were the sensible one finishing college, right? I wonder how you managed to stay with her for as long as you did. I love her dearly, but she can be so flighty and unpredictable.

Anyway - I might be in over my head, but if I want the equity money, I have to get it done. Don’t worry. You can count on me. I’ll make you proud.

Hazel.

* * *

“Well, you can’t go out like that!”  Indigo was standing at the door of her bedroom and was dressed to the nines. She had gladiator sandals on, Hazel didn’t even know they made those anymore, and a full purple skirt with an ivory lace top. She had tucked a cherry red, fake carnation behind her ear. She looked like a cupcake.

Hazel was already in her pajamas. It had been a long day. After the disastrous morning attempt at the phone shop, she had headed back down around 2:30 pm with passport in hand and a list of errands, including shopping for some food. The three of them couldn’t live on flat prosecco. Well, maybe Indigo could, and who knew what Stefano ate, but she needed real food. Apart from the bars, every shop had been closed. All of them. So much for her list.

“I’m not going out. Do you know how many times I’ve been in town today? And I got nothing done.”

“Well everyone knows you don’t get anything done during siesta sweetie. You should have just taken a nap yourself.”

Hazel did not nap.

“Well I didn’t nap, I tried to work, and I couldn’t. Thankfully my email just crept in, so at least I’ll be able to get some work done today. Liz has something she needs my advice on.”

Her mother leaned on her door frame and picked at her fingers. “She doesn’t need your advice you know. She just knows you’re freaking out and she’s trying to be nice.” She pushed off the door frame and put her hands on her hips. “Hazel, I am your Mama, and I’m telling you to get dressed right now! We are going for an apperitivo and to hear some music. I won’t leave without you.”

Hazel stared at her mother in despair. It was true. Indigo wouldn’t go anywhere tonight unless Hazel went with her. The thought of her mother standing over her bed all night was enough to get her out of her pajamas. But Indigo was just going to have to wait a bit longer. It would take her at least half an hour to find the appropriate outfit and get her makeup on. Hazel didn’t leave the house unless she was fully made up. Not like there was anyone to impress in Borgotaro. She wouldn’t even be able to have a conversation with anyone anyway. But she had her rules, and always being put together was one of them.