“Mother, just go okay? It’s easier to have you out of here while I get everything organized. Atillio is picking us up in an hour so just don’t get so busy gossiping that you forget we’re leaving.” Hazel was trying to get all the last minute packing and prepping done while Indigo had spent the morning wandering around crying. She was being so dramatic about this departure. It wasn't like they would never come back. Sara had already begged her to come and spend a few weeks in the fall but Hazel wasn't in the position to make any promises.

“Oh sweetie, did you have to remind me?” Indigo starting crying again.

Stefano implored, “Please don’t cry, Indigo. You will come back soon. Spero. Marbles will be sad if you are gone too long.” Marbles had mewed her way into Stefano's heart. He went everywhere with that damn kitten in his arms. Hazel liked cats, but this obsession was worrying.

“Stefano, why don’t you go and keep Indigo company. I know that Sara and Stella would love to have you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll save the heavy cases for when you get back.”

Stefano looked concerned. “You’ll look after Marbles? You won’t let her run away?”

“That cat’s no dummy, Stefano. She knows where her bread is buttered. She’s not going anywhere. Now shoo, the both of you, and give me some space to finish this packing.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later and she was nearly ready. She looked at the pile of cases stacked on the side porch and felt a big hole open inside her. She didn’t want to leave Borgotaro. She didn’t want to leave this house which had become the messiest, craziest, most frustratingly wonderful home she'd ever had. She didn’t want to leave without speaking to Dean. Now she had some distance she realized that her angry response to him that day had been a bit over the top. She'd love the chance to apologize. Even if they would never see each other again at least she would know they'd parted on good terms. He hadn't called her. She'd been too nervous to call him.

Yesterday when she'd gone up to say goodbye to Sara she'd done a little fishing. “So how’s Dean re-adjusting to fame?” she’d asked, just throwing the question out casually, without meeting Sara’s eyes.

“He hasn’t called us,” Sara had said, not meeting Hazel’s eyes either. “I’m sure he’s busy.”

“I’m sure,” she’d answered.

Time for the last suitcase. She plodded up the stairs a final time. She'd fibbed to Stefano. She’d said she'd save the heavy ones, but when she started a job she liked to finish it. The suitcase was a beast, and after she'd manhandled it down the stairs, she tripped over the sill of the porch and the heavy case slipped from her hands hitting the porch floor with a thump. There was a piercing meow and Marbles came shooting out from under the case and was off running like she was being chased by a kitten banshee. Hazel swore under her breath and ran after her. Stefano would murder her if anything happened to that cat. She almost caught her but then watched in dismay as the tiny creature scrambled up the old tree in the front garden. When the little thing was just about even with the gutters on the roof she stopped, and clung there, shivering and wailing.

Hazel stood below the tree and called up to her to come down. This would not do. They had no time for this. There were maybe ten minutes before they were out of here for good and there was no way Stefano would let them leave with his beloved Marbles stuck up in a tree.

She called again. "Here, kitty, kitty. Come on baby. Just come right back down."

Marbles wouldn’t budge, just kept shivering and crying. Cat food. Hazel thought. That kitten was a psychic. Every time she went near the cupboard with the cat food in it, Marbles appeared at her feet. She went inside and grabbed the cat food. She took it beneath the tree and banged the fork against the can.

“Here, kitty, kitty.” Isn’t that what they said? Kitty didn’t budge. Hazel sighed. How was she going to get up there? She had to get this cat down before Stefano got home. She glanced nervously up the hill to check he wasn’t coming. There was no way she had a ladder high enough. There was only one way to get her down. If she went to the fourth floor widow’s walk and climbed out onto the roof, she could probably shimmy down to the edge and hold onto the gutter to grab Marbles. The branch where the cat was perched was only a foot or so away from the edge of the roof.

* * *

Hazel had never been up to the tiny glass enclosure. It was apparently meant to be an enclosed widow’s walk, but how a widow was supposed to hang out here Hazel had no idea. It was so small she couldn’t even stretch her arms out to either side without banging the glass window panes. The room was filled with cobwebs and dust. Hazel coughed, wishing she'd thought to bring a bottle of water with her. She opened the window closest to the front and was assaulted by Marble’s wailing. For a small thing she could make a mighty big noise.

She pulled over the wicker chair that had probably been in this room for a hundred years and knelt on it in front of the window, her hips level with the sill. Gripping the bottom of the open window she extended one leg gingerly onto the roof. Good enough. It didn’t seem too steep now she had a leg on it. She gripped the window tighter and hoisted her other leg out. All okay so far. She scootched her behind onto the roof tiles and wiggled, everything seemed secure. Slowly she let go of the sill and started a very careful butt shimmy down the roof toward the tree. She didn't look down. She didn’t need to remind herself how high up she was. A fall from here could be catastrophic.

On her next shimmy, she lifted her right butt cheek and shifted her hip forward just enough to move to the next roof tile, then all hell broke loose. The tile slipped out from under her, clattering down the roof, and her balance was thrown. She reached out with her left hand to slow her tumble, but the tile under that hand gave way as well. She instinctively flopped onto her back before starting a rapid slide down the incline of the roof. Roof tiles were popping off all over the place now and clattered around her. She scrambled around with her hands to find something to hold onto, but there was nothing, and she kept sliding rapidly toward the edge. This is it, she thought. This is where I die. What a crappy way to end a life, during such a miserable time.

And then she saw her life flash before her, just like they say it does in the movies. She saw her seven-year-old self rushing home from school with test results to write to her fantasy father and tell him. She saw her eighteen-year-old self sitting in her room drilling herself with timed AP English essays instead of going to the parties the other girls in her class never invited her to. She saw her twenty-three-year-old self sitting in her near empty apartment in Jacksonville pulling an all-nighter to help Liz win a client for her new marketing company. She saw Dean leaning over her, his face falling into shade as he blocked her from the Italian sun. She felt him plant his soft lips on hers.

Slam!

Her teeth clacked painfully together as the collision forced her to a jolting stop. That was it then. She was dead. Please don't let Indigo be the one to find her body on the ground. She’d be a total freak about it. Hang on. Wait a minute. Although her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, there was light beyond them. Sunlight? She took a deep breath (she was breathing!) and opened her eyes. There was the sky. And unless the Heaven sky looked an awful lot like the Borgotaro sky, it would appear she was still on the roof. There was a plaintive meow to her left. She carefully lifted her head to see if she could look down at her feet. There they were. Both heels of her practical travel sneakers were wedged securely in the gunk-filled gutter. She was still in one piece, lying on her back on the incline of the roof. The ancient, cast iron gutter had arrested her fall. They sure don’t make things like they used to, she thought, a hysterical giggle escaping her mouth. She was saved. She wouldn't die today.

“What in the world are you doing up there, you crazy girl? He’s not worth it!” Indigo screamed at her from the road in front of the house.

Hazel realized that she could tuck her elbows underneath her back and prop herself up enough to see the street way, way below. Stefano and Indigo were standing there frozen, staring at her as though she’d gone mad.

“He is a ‘she’ Mother. You know all calicos are girls.”

“What calico? I’m talking about Dean! Isn’t that why you're considering throwing yourself off the roof?”

Marbles chose that moment to make her presence known with a loud wail. “Marbles!” Stefano shouted. “Hold on! Don't move. Daddy will save you! Atillio has a tall ladder.” And unbelievably, Stefano turned and ran back up the hill, abandoning Hazel and her predicament for the sake of his cat!

Indigo watched him run off, and then turned back to stare up at Hazel and shrugged. “It’s not like you're going anywhere. You look pretty wedged in. Those sneakers will be a right pain to get clean.”

It was true. Hazel was wedged in. But she was only just realizing how scared she was. How would she get down? And now she'd made the mistake of looking down at the street it was again brought home to her just how high she was. Fear fluttered in her belly and rushed up into her chest. Her heart raced.

“You have to get help! I have no idea how to get down from here.”

“How on earth did you get up there? What were you doing? How am I supposed to get you down? Do you feel stable?” Hazel could hear panic creeping into Indigo's voice now. She’d scared her. A panicking Indigo wouldn't be good for either of them.

“Mother, calm down,” she said. "I came up here to get the cat, but I slipped. I don’t think I’m going anywhere, but I’m not thrilled to be stuck up here. Could you maybe find help? Help Stefano and Atillio with the ladder?”

Indigo started her stressed fluttering, hands in the air like butterflies. “Okay, I’ll get Atillio," she screeched, and turned to run downtown, the wrong direction. She was blocked by a sleek, black car that screeched to a halt in front of Indigo.

She was about to yell out to Indigo to turn around and run in the other direction, but then realized the fear had truly gotten to her. She was hallucinating. She must be. Because the back door of the car opened and out tumbled Dean, a look of terror and distress on his face.

“What the hell are you doing up there, Hazel? Hang on! I’m coming to get you!!” Dean raced around the fence toward the back door and Hazel felt her eyes fill with relieved tears. Dean. Dean was here.