Part seven-Europe

PartVI

35

Just like in the movie American in Paris, the hotel was tucked into a quiet, intimate area of the city.  There were no elevators and Trey made two trips with the luggage.

“You planning on moving here?” he asked after the second trip.

“Maybe,” I said, “Jerry Mulligan may sweep me away.”

“Well, don’t stay out too late.” He said and plopped down on the bed.

“So what’s the itinerary?”  I asked.

“Itinerary?  Geez we just got here, I lugged half of a department store up three flights of stairs.”

“Yes, Itinerary…I told you at the airport.   I think sex first then a shower then dinner, downstairs in that little place on the corner.

“OK, wake me when you come.” He said.

“What?” I asked him.

“The sex part, wake me when you’re done and we can go eat.”

“Really, Trey?”  I said, crawling onto the bed with him, “You want to sleep?  What if I do this?” I stroked the front of his trousers.

“Nope nada, nothing” he said through clenched teeth.

“Oh?  Then you won’t mind if I….” I unzipped them and reached in.

“OK OK  you win…” he said and rolled me over on the bed. “just a quickie, then you can shower, I’ll take a nap.”

I wiggled my skirt up and pulled the panties down.  I directed him into me.

“Mmmm, s’wonderful.” I whispered

36

I looked around the room. “OK where’s the shower?”

He rolled on his side and closed his eyes, “Down the hall to the left.”

“Wait,” I said, “There’s no shower in the room?

“Nope, down the hall.  I’d put on a robe if I were you.”

I looked down at my wrinkled skirt.  I was sweaty and dirty from the sex and the flight.

“Trey!,” I said, “Really?”

“Down the hall, towels are on the shelf.  Now go and let me sleep.”

“I…I can’t in public.”

“There’s a door.  Lock it, I’ll be here when you get back.”

“You don’t understand, I can’t…”

“You’ll be fine..”

“Trey, I can’t.  I was raped in a shower like that.”

His eyes flew open and he sat up in bed.

“When?”

“About 12 years ago, before I transitioned.  I was in college and was in a house that was shared.  I was dressing at the time and just starting hormones, but still had my ‘parts’.  One of the guys who rented a room cornered me in the shower.”

“Did you report it?”

I put my face in my hands and started to cry.  I shook my head “no”.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I know,” I said, “I have tried to forget it myself.  It was a long time ago”

“I’ll call and get us another hotel.  I just thought this was cute because we went to see…”

“I know.” I cried, “It isn’t your fault.”

He dressed and went down the stairs.  I sat there and cried while he was gone.  It was bad enough being trans but now he must have thought I was damaged goods beside that.

He returned and I was still on the same spot of the bed.

“I have another hotel for us, don’t worry.” He said as he sat beside me.  “I just didn’t think.  I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t know.  I blame myself for it.  I wore skirts and…”

“It wasn’t YOUR fault.  The guy…”

“Guys.”

“But you said a guy cornered you.”

“And two others came in and held me. “

“You poor woman.” He said and put his arm around me pulling me to his chest.

“It’s the past,” I said between sobs, “No past remember?”

He held me tighter, “I remember…”

37

We moved to a different hotel that was more modern.  While it was updated with in room baths, it was still in a neighborhood that was older.

I lay in bed and looked at the moon through the curtain.   It was different somehow here in Paris, not as bright.  I listened to Trey’s breathing as he lay behind me, his arm clutching me as he slept.   The rhythm was calming and I drifted off.

I dreamed again.

I was in Paris.  Old Paris where the lanes were winding and cobbled. There was a shop where I worked making dresses for women who had money. 

Although I wasn’t Jewish, the shop owner and his daughter were.  She was my best friend.  The year was 1938 and I was 17.

Everyone in the neighborhood had been watching the news about Germany and how they were occupying  the countries that bordered them.  First Austria, then part of Czechoslovakia.  The French held hope that the ligne maginot would keep the Nazis out.

But we knew it wasn’t to be.  The week before Jews in Germany were targeted in what was being called Krystalnacht, the night of glass.

“We need to leave, Papa.” Isabella told the man who was hand sewing a seam.

“I do not worry, “ the man told her, “God will protect us and the President will make sure the Germans don’t come.  Britain and France have an alliance.”

“But, Papa,” she said, “The British already gave Germany more land to not fight.  I am afraid.”

“We will be fine.” He said, “Now go get Mrs. Goldblatt’s dress ready.”

Isabella, or Izzy, came to me. 

“Manon,” she started , “How do I convince Papa to go?”

I looked up and smiled, “Why should he?”

“We’re Jews, It is not safe for us here anymore.”

“They cannot reach Paris.”

“You have nothing to worry about, you aren’t Jewish.” She said as a matter of fact, “and you speak German as well as French and English.  Me. I speak French and Yiddish.”

“I will protect you.” I told her. “Don’t worry.”

But we did worry and in less than 18 months the Germans were in the city, Then there was the day they came to our neighborhood.

Three uniformed men entered at once.  Izzy and I were alone.

They spoke German.  They wore black uniforms

“Fraulein,” the officer addressed me. “Ich bin OberstrumbanFuhrer Heinz Schmidt.”

I answered in German that I was Manon Saunier and this was Isabella Caen.

“We heard this was a Jewish owned business.” He told me. “Are you the owner?”

“No I just work here.” I told him “The owner is out.”

“Are you Jewish?” he asked me.

“Why do you ask?” I answered.

“All Jews must be registered,” he stated, “So if you are you must register.”

“I am not.” I said.  “But I would not register anyway.”

“You would defy our authority?”

“You have no authority here.” I spat at him.  He gave me an evil smile.

“I would watch what you say,” he cautioned, “Many officers will not be as tolerant as I am.”

Isabelle didn’t speak German but she could see the look in his eye.  She slipped behind me, fearful of what would happen.

“Who is she?” the officer asked.

“She is a child, go and leave us alone now.”

“Is she a Jew?”

“No she is French, can’t you tell?”

“Remember, all Jews must register.” He said and sneered at us, “or life can be very…unpleasant.”

The scene changed for me then.  It was weeks later and I had been arrested but they finally let me go when they decided I was Free French.  I made my way back to the shop which was now empty and all the windows broken.  I went in and called Mr, Caen and Izzy.  No answer.  I went back outside where a man was lurking in the shadows.

“They’re gone.” He said.

“It appears so.” I answered and tried to go past.

“Wait,” the man said, “I am your friend.”

“I don’t know you.”  I moved further away. “Who are you?”

The man stepped out of the darkness and lifted his hat.  “My name is Tomas.” 

Again I knew him and suddenly felt safer.

“Come with me, I will protect you.”

We went to a small apartment not far away.  He made me a hot cup of weak tea and had me sit in the only chair.

“You are Manon, no?”

“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked.

“You know.” He said quietly.  “We could use you.  I hear you speak German.”

“Many here speak German.” I said still wary.

“But you speak it well.”

“So what am I to do?”

“Get to know the soldiers, help us get information.”

“Who is ‘us’?”

“Listen, you know me, you may not think you do but you do.” He said, “I am resistance.  You love France and we need you to help us.”

“Or?”

“Or the Nazis will feast on you, a pretty young woman, alone in Paris.”

“OK, tell me what to do.”

I woke suddenly.  It was still dark outside and I waited, feeling Trey still holding me. 

He stirred.  “You OK Princess?”

“I don’t know.”

38

The next morning we had a light breakfast in a sidewalk café.  Trey had made sure we were in walking distance to the Metro and we traveled to Notre Dame and the Louvre.  He loved art but I didn’t care much about it.  Yet this was the Louvre and when in Paris…

I stopped as we entered and stared at the statue of David.  Trey walked behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

“He’d be more excited if you were naked.”

“I would hope he would be larger if he was excited.” I kidded.

The place was huge and I would follow Trey from exhibit to exhibit where he would fill me in on the history of the paintings. But I was distracted.  The night before preying on my mind.  The memory of being attacked and that triggering the dream…I don’t know if it was true or if it was just a dream of being in occupied Paris.

“Princess?” Trey waved his hand in front of my eyes,” Do you want to go?  We can go somewhere else if you wish.”

“I’m OK,” I told him, “Just jet lag I guess.”

“OK one more hour then back to the hotel.  You can nap before dinner.”

I kissed him on the cheek, “That sounds like a plan, Thomas.”  I had pronounced it To-mass.  He looked shocked.

“I’m sorry Trey”, I said, “Jet lag…”

Back at the hotel I fell asleep almost right away.  I was hoping my dream would return but it didn’t.  I awoke 2 hours later, feeling much better.  Trey was in a chair by the window reading.

“Well the Princess awakes.” He smiled, “Feeling better?”

“Very much so,” I said, “Trey, about last night…”

“History, remember?”

“I know but I hadn’t told you about it before.”

“History….”

“There are many things I haven’t told you.”

“History, not important.” He smiled, “unless you were a spy or something.”

What a strange thing to say. 

“Well were you?”

“Maybe…”

“Can you tell me your secret name?”

“Manon,” I whispered.

“Huh?  Did you say something?”

“Nothing.” I said, “I’m hungry let’s eat.  This is Paris, home of decadent foods after all.”

39

Paris has small cafes everywhere.  The tourists stay near the monuments and museums, but the real Paris is in the back streets.  We found a small place and enjoyed a great meal.  The evening was romantic and I felt comfortable again.  I was convinced the dream was just my imagination running wild after the whole shower thing.

We wandered arm in arm down to the Seine.  It was very similar to the movie, we went down some stairs to a walk area that ran with the river.  Except we weren’t alone. Couples walked by; each one smiling at us and we smiled back.   

This was Paris in springtime, the trees the birds, the love.  He stopped suddenly and turned me to face him.

“With a binding like that people are going to want to read the book.” He said quietly

“Huh?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“primarily it means you're a very pretty girl.” He said, “I, uh, heard it on the radio.”

“What are you doing?” I asked , “quoting Gene Kelly?”

“I don't know whether you're a girl of mystery or just a still water that doesn't run deep, but there's one thing I can tell you. I'd been around sooner, you'd know by now that you're very pretty and I'm not making fun with you.”

“You’ve told me that before.”

“I’m telling you again.” He said, “Wanna dance?” 

“Here?”

“Of course, where else?”

I looked around; no one was paying any attention to us.  He took me in his arms and held me close; swaying to some tune that was only in his head.  I held on to him, lost in the love and innocence he was showing at that moment.  No man would have ever danced with me on the banks of the Seine except him.

“Forget the past, Honey.” He whispered in my ear, “Paris has ways of making people forget..”

“That’s not your line, that’s Lise’s.” I giggled, “and I say ‘Jerry. Don't let me leave you this way.’  And the scene fades.”

“No,” he said, “the scene just continues for us.”  He twirled me out and then back in his arms.  “We’ll always have Paris.”

I started laughing, “Now you’re mixing movies,” I said, “Oh Trey, don’t let this night end.  I don’t want it to end.”

“Princess,” He kissed me, “for you, I will make it last forever.”

40

Three days in Paris and we were finally walking down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées.   I looked in every window at every gown and necklace. It was Trey’s turn to be a fish out of water.

We had lunch and watched the crazy traffic go by and then ventured to De Arc de Triomphe.  I looked around and suddenly, while looking down the Rue Foch, I felt ill.  It seemed somehow familiar to me.

“Princess?” Trey tapped me on the shoulder, “Bad snails?”

“Huh?” I looked at him. “Oh no, just something…”

“Something what?”

“Something down there bothers me.”  I pointed down the street.

“Then we won’t go that way, come, the Eiffel tower awaits.”

He hailed a cab. “Eiffel tower sil vous plait..” he told the driver.

“Well that’ll just confuse him.  You just mixed French and English.” I giggled.

“He understood.”  And we got  in the car.  The driver started down Rue Foch.  The nausea returned.

“Trey…” I said, “Make him go another way.”

Trey tapped the man on the shoulder, “Is there another way we could go?”

“Oui monsieur.” And at the traffic circle he turned left.  The feeling slowly dissipated.

“Better?” Trey asked me.

I smiled, “Much, thank you.”

Later at the room I sat and started out the window. 

“Something is bothering you, Princess.” He said as he sat on the arm of the chair, “Want to talk?”

“I don’t know Trey,” I started, “I feel I have been here before.”

“You don’t remember?”

“it was a dream, the other night.”

“Was I in it?”

“Yes.”

“Then it was a good dream.” He stated.

“No”

“Can you talk about it?”

“No.”

“Ok,” he said and kissed me on the forehead. “When you’re ready.”

“It was one of those dreams…and when we passed Rue Fochs, I knew it was real.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, something on that street.”

“Maybe you lived there?”

“No, something bad.”

“OK we will let it go for now.  Want to nap…or something before we hit the last evening in Paris?”

I smiled and pulled his face to mine. “Yeah, something”

41

 When in Paris one must go to Montmartre and the Moulon Rouge.  It is totally tourist.  The champagne went to my head and Trey had to almost carry me back to the hotel.

Then the dream came back.

I ran into a building where a man in a Vichy uniform sat.

“You have my husband.” I said.

“Mademoiselle, we have many husbands, you will have to be more specific.”

“His name is Tomas  Tomas LeClerc.”

The man looked at the list.  “I’m sorry madame but the Gestapo took him away already.”  He sighed, “You have my condolences.”

“Where?”

“Gestapo headquarters but you should not go.  It isn’t safe.  They will arrest you too.”

I ran out in the street  where two men approached me.

“Manon Saunier?” One asked.

I looked at them and started to run.  They followed me and cornered me.

“Mademoiselle Saunier, we are friends.” One said out of breath.  “We came to get you to safety.  They have killed Tomas.”

I woke suddenly, my breathing was rapid.  I sat up and quickly put my hand on Trey.  Well more like I hit him.

“Hey!” he said, “What did I do?  I can’t control that thing when I’m sleeping.”

I fell into his arms crying.

“The dream again huh?”  I nodded yes, “And you still can’t talk about it?”  I shook my head no. “Well don’t worry, I’m here, nothing can harm you.”

42

I do love Paris but I was very happy to leave it behind.  This was twice I dreamed of losing Trey.  I wanted to put miles between us and that city.

We rented a car and Trey drove us south to Lyon, where we would stay the night.

“I made sure the hotel had showers,” he teased.

“Thank you.” I said, “That will be very nice.”

“Are you tired?” he asked, “I don’t think you slept much last night.”

“I was fine as long as you held me.”

“You still didn’t sleep much.  I saw you watching me several times.”

“I just cannot lose you.” I said, my eyes welling with tears. “You promised you would never leave me.”

“And here I am.” He said, “Look I don’t know what you saw or how it ended, but that was either a bad dream or something neither of us had control of in the past.

“Princess, as long as I’m alive, I will be there for you.”

“That’s just it, you have to be alive.”

“That’s certainly my plan.  Forget it, Paris is gone.  We are moving on to lovely Italy where men will pinch your cute butt.”

This started me laughing.

“And women will make eyes at you.” I added, “Trey, I love you.”

“More back atcha, Princess.”

The drive took us through small villages and vineyards.  On occasion, Trey would drive the little car as fast as it would go, which wasn’t that fast for a Fiat, through the twists and turns of the road.

“Trey!” I screamed, what are you doing?”

“Here  we are at the tour de Lyon, drivers on formula one have gathered to test the limits of their machines.  Women from all over the world adore these daring men.”

“Women from all over the world are peeing their panties right now, slow down.”

“We’re only doing 110.” He stated and looked over at me.

“Watch the road, dammit.” I held my hand out to the dash.

“No trust?”

“Total trust in you, no trust in this car.”

He down shifted as we started up a small rise. 

“Please, Trey.” I begged, “Slow down.”

“Are your panties wet?”

“Yes,”

“Then you are excited no? yes?” he said in a really bad French accent.

“Yes…I mean no… I mean.”

He looked at me again with a big grin.

“I excite you.”

“You excite me at 25 miles per hour.” I said.

“You will come and share the champagne at the finish line with me?

“Yes,” I said, “anything just slow down.”

He lifted and we were cruising the countryside again.

“Beautiful country isn’t it?”

“I don’t know I had my eyes closed.”

I felt much better then.  Life was good and my life was perfect.  How lucky is any woman to find the man who is her soul mate?  He was at once a kid and a man.  Protector and playmate. 

It was late afternoon when we arrived in Lyon.  It had a reputation for food and we were going to test it.  After getting lost twice and going the wrong way down a one way street we found our hotel.

While Trey napped and made some phone calls, I showered and put on new makeup.  When I stepped out his face lit up.

“Every time I see you, you make me smile.”

“Then I want you to smile all the time.” I teased, “Now go get ready, I’m starved.”

“You’re always starved “he mused, “Yet you stay so slim.  How do you do it?”

“A balanced diet of sex and getting the crap scared out of me evidently.”

“Well let’s try the sex part.” He said and pulled me to him.

“I just showered…” I protested.

“So we can share this time.”

43

The city of Lyon was like a small Paris with the streets and the cafes.  Te innkeeper had directed us to a local restaurant that specialized in South French cuisine.  We passed many apartment buildings but one made me feel uncomfortable.  It wasn’t a special building, probably built in the early 1900’s.  But as we passed, I felt a chill, but this time it was different.  I didn’t feel Trey was part of it.

“You ok?” he asked as I snuggled closer to him.

“Just chilly.”I said, “I’m fine now.”  He pulled me closer..

“Forget Paris,” He said, “WE are far away from it and this is new.”

“I know,” I said but I didn’t tell him I had the same feeling as Rue Foch. 

The food was excellent and afterward I asked Trey to take a different route home.  I didn’t want to go down the street again.

We got lost in all the turns and twists.

“I’m sure it’s this way, “ He said and started down an alley.  I stood at the entrance and waited.

“You knew it was blind didn’t you?”

I pointed to the sign on the building.  It was a “T”

“I don’t speak French,” He huffed.

“It’s a symbol, sweetie.” I teased him, “And after we got lost today I figured it out quickly.”

“You could have warned me.” He pouted.

“This was far more fun. Especially when you scared me today on the road, I owed you one.”

“And I wasn’t lost,” he said, “I knew where I was.”

“Lost?”

“It’s what guys do, we explore.”

“I never did.”

“You, my sweet were never a guy.” He kissed my cheek. “OK Marco Polo, where to?

I pointed down the lane.  “Follow me.”

“Anytime.”

44

The hotel was only a few blocks away and I could here him behind me mumbling the whole way.  When we got to the room, I fell into his arms.

“I like exploring with you.” I said as I kissed his lips. “I love adventure.”

“You could have let me lead then.”

“And we would still be out there, this way we can go to bed early.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Well we already ate so…”

“You are insatiable.”  He said to me, kissing me again.

“Let’s test that theory shall we?”

45

We took the little Fiat to Italy the next morning.  The drive to Turin took us over the mountains and once again, Trey had to see how fast we could go.  But it wasn’t as fast with the incline and just kept telling myself he knew what he was doing.  I should have known that he would want to stop in Turin and see the race track at Fiat.  I just prayed he didn’t want to drive it.

We continued on to Genoa.  I was more relaxed now.  Italy seemed light years from France.

After staying the night in Genoa, we followed the coast to Rome where we would spend three days then head home.

Rome, the eternal city, one of the cradles of civilization.  The city of romance.  Finding the rental car return wasn’t hard this time.  I was impressed that Trey drove almost right to it until I found out when we got petrol the man at the station gave him written instructions…in English.

We wouldn’t need the little Fiat now, as we would use trains and cabs.  I am sure the poor little car was happy to be dropped off.

“How was the car, Signore?” The man at the rental shop asked.

“It was great, it really moves.”

“Si. Most cars move no?”

I laughed and said “He means it ain’t no Pinto.”

The poor guy was even more confused then.

“Bella, “ I said,  “Una bella machine. Grazie”

The man smiled and bowed.  “Fantasico”

“How do you do that?” Trey asked me.

“I watched a lot of Fellini films.”

“Well that answers the sex moves question.”

“non ti piace come faccio l'amore?” I said and flicked my fingers under his chin

The rental guy laughed.

“Why do I feel like you just made fun of me?”

“Why, no dear, why would I do that?” I said and walked away passing the rental agent on the way, I looked over my shoulder and said “è il miglior cazzo nel mondo.”

“il più grande?”the man said

Trey turned to him and said “The grandest.”

I held his arm and we got in the cab.

Paris may be the city of lights but Rome is the city of pidgeons.  The square outside our window was filled with them.  A few made their home on our window sill.

“So, mi amore,” Trey started.

“Amore mio, ti adore.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind, you were saying?”

“Want to go sight seeing?”

“Hmmm...sight seeing or dinner and sex.” I pondered, “Let me think.”

“You are going to kill me yet.”

“No, amore mio,” I teased, “Just wear you out so the Italian girls can’t use you.”

“I’m not interested in Italian girls.”

“Oh my god, you aren’t gay are you?”

“No, just in love.” He kissed me, “So let’s eat.”

Part VII

46

The romance countries are...well romantic.  Waking that first morning in Rome and opening the windows, scattering pigeons was like a movie.

“Why don't you take a little time for yourself?,” Trey said bringing me a tray of breakfast, “Live dangerously. Take the whole day.”

“You trying to get rid of me” I pouted, “do you have an Italian girlfriend coming here?”

“No,” he smiled, “It’s what Gregory Peck said to Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday.”

“You and your movie quotes.” I told him, “When did you have time to watch those?”

“Every year before I met you?” He stated, “I lived a very lonely life.”

“I would like to hear about that.” I said.

“No past remember?” He scolded me, “I won’t ask you, you don’t ask me.”

“OK.” I sighed, “But I bet you were a lot of fun.”

“I’m still a lot of fun,” he countered, “Look I rented a Vespa.”  He held up some keys.

“umm….ok.” I hesitated, “I hope you rented helmets and leather jackets too.”

“That would just look silly,” he replied, “Do you think the Princess and the reporter in the movie wore helmets?”

“They were on a sound stage.”

“Oh yeah,” He scratched his chin, “Helmets would be good.”

“But thanks for the romantic thoughts.” I kissed his cheek, “What shall I wear?”

“Well Audrey Hepburn wore a skirt….”

“On a scooter?”

“Yeah.”

“No way, I’ll find some slacks.”

“How about shorts?”

“Let me repeat, on a scooter?”

“It sounds like you don’t have faith in my riding abilities.”

“I have faith in gravity.”

“OK, let’s have some coffee and then off to the Trevi fountain.”

“It will probably make me want to pee after coffee.”

“You are highly contrary today aren’t you?”

“Just today?”

“I know you’re getting tired but we have two more days, let’s have fun.”

“Sex is fun.”

“Let’s have fun outside this room.”

“That could be fun, but don’t they have laws against public sex?”

He shook his head, “If you weren’t so pretty…”

“You’d what?”

“Get dressed, let’s go see some sights.”

“OK,” I said, “But then sex later.”

“Maybe…”

But it was fun.  Trey driving the scooter and me riding behind him, squeezing him hard even if I wasn’t scared.   We grabbed a cold lunch along the way and went to the “Spanish Steps” to join about 500 other people having a cold lunch.  Then we went to the fountain.  Trey insisted we throw coins in, right hand left shoulder.

“What’d you wish for?” I asked.

“You can’t say, it won’t come true.”

“I wished we’d be together forever.”

“That wasn’t a wish, that’s a command.”

“I wonder what you’d wish for.” I pondered, “You have money, you have a good life and you have me.  What else could there be?”

“I can’t say, it won’t come true.”

“I told you mine.”

“Well luckily, things that are already decided don’t count as wishes that get annulled by telling.”

“So I wasted a Euro?”

“No, I loved how your body moved while you tossed it.”

“Worth a Euro?”

“Worth everything I have.” He kissed me, “Now let’s head back, we have dinner plans.”

47

When we got back to the room, I lay naked on the bed while he returned the scooter.  I thought about the last two weeks and how everything had been like a fairytale.  Then I realized, it was JUST like a fairytale.  Trey had spent the whole time being the leading man in a romantic movie, quote and all.  And I had been the Princess, swept up by the American whose ways were different than the continental life I had known.

I wondered if he saw me as the Audrey Hepburn or Leslie Caron in his story.  Ours seemed a love story worthy of Hollywood in the 50’s.  I thought for a minute then I realized, I had an elegant gown that would be the perfect attire for the final scene where the Princess gets the everyday American boy. I didn’t have much time so I hurried and got dressed, finishing the makeup when he walked back in.  I pushed the door almost closed..

“Princess?” he called.

“I’ll be out in a moment.”

“It’s been a wonderful week hasn’t it?” He mused and I could hear him flop on the bed.

“Perfect.” I answered.

“Today was fun.”

“Yes it was,”

“I can only think of one thing that would make it better.”

I walked out in the gown with perfect makeup and my hair up.

“Is this it?” I asked.

He sat up in the bed “Well, I was thinking burgers and a beer but…wow.”

I walked over and grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. 

“Really?” I said, “Burgers and a beer?  After I spent all this time getting ready for you on our almost second to last night in Rome?”

“Hey,” He said, “I was kidding.”

“I ‘m thinking burgers and a beer would be good too,  so let me change and we’ll go.”

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

“Have I told you I love you?”

“Not enough…I’ll be ready in a minute”

48

Finding a burger and beer in Rome isn’t easy.  We asked the desk and they recommend a place about 10 minutes away.  Italy’s idea of an American burger joint.  But it was close enough.  He had a chili burger and I had the bacon cheese burger.  With fries…and onion rings and pale beers. 

“I miss this don’t you?” he asked.

“You didn’t miss your shirt.” I pointed to the chili on his chest.

“For later.” He smiled

“Yes, I did miss it and thank you so much for trying so hard to make this a fairytale for me.” I reached out and put my hand on his.

“For you?” he asked. “It was MY Fairytale.  Just a normal boy finds love in Europe with a Princess then takes her home to Georgia and she lives happily ever after and he pays off his credit cards ever after.

“You’re…you’re taking me home with you?”  I pretended to be shocked.

“Yeah mom and dad will love you.  Your accent and all.”

“You’re silly, but honestly, you made this the best week of my life.”

“Ten days.” He corrected.

“Nine,”

“12”

“Sold.”

49

The last day we stayed close to the room.  I packed again while he called the office and made arrangements to get to the airport.

Once we were on the plane I looked out the window

“Arrivederci Roma.”

“Yeah and goodbye too.” He teased, “did I tell you I packed the scooter?  I had to take out all your clothes but…”

“I don’t need clothes,” I joked him,” I have you”

“True,” he said seriously.

“You tired?” I asked.

“Very,”

“We can sleep on the flight.”

“Nope,” he said, “I can’t sleep when someone else is driving.”

“You can sleep when you’re driving so what’s the difference?”

“True again,” he kissed me.  “Thank you for a lovely honeymoon.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied “And thank you for loving me.”

“Por nada.”