Heart & Soul

Chapter 13 - Erika (Week 9)

Now, we're off to Scotland tomorrow, where it is supposed to be kind of bad weather, but we don't get much of a choice, do we? Rain half the week and cloudy the other half. None of the other girls know where we're going, so they've dressed for warm climates, like Australia or Costa Rica. I head to my room, which is the only single since there's an odd number of us, and set an alarm on the clock that's in the room. What I couldn't have anticipated was what I realized the next morning.

The alarm clock reset overnight and I overslept by four hours, which means the plane that was supposed to bring me, and all the other girls, to Scotland left three hours ago. Awesome. And with no cell service, I have no way to tell anyone I'm still here with a useless plane ticket to Edinburgh.

"Ciao?" I ask in a hesitant Italian, which is one of the only words I know.

"Sì?" An older man who seems to be in his last decades of life, standing a few inches taller than I am, opposite to the stature of many Italian men.

"Can I use your phone?" I ask, and he nods.

"Go ahead, Signorina." He hands me the desk phone that must be older than I am, and I dial Rayna's number first, hoping she'll pick up, and after it goes through to voicemail twice, I try Lane's, desperate for an answer. Nothing. What do I do now? Sighing, I place the phone back where it came from, and the man who runs the hotel comes back, somehow knowing none of the calls went through. "Try again later. Come with me, we get good lunch." Following him into the town square a couple miles away, we eat at a small pizza shop that can hold probably a dozen people outside of the kitchen, which has all of three people to make the best pizza you'll ever eat in your lifetime.

"Grazie. The food was very good." I tell him, and as we walk back to the hotel, he sits down on a bench looking out over one of the hundreds of rivers.

"Amante non sia chi non ha coraggio. A lover is not one with no courage. I think you need to remember that when that boy comes back to get you," He says, looking out to the river. "My wife and I used to sit here and watch gondolas go by each day when the hotel is not busy. She passed two years ago, but I still love her with my entire heart. We open hotel before getting married, taking many years to realize we like each other. Have courage, Signorina, and love with your entire heart."

"Your wife sounds lovely." I smile, feeling the happiness fill my soul as he continues to describe the little things they did when she was alive. After nine gondolas have passed the bench the old man and I are sitting on, we head back to the hotel, with the manager wanting to hear what I can play on the piano. "What would you like to hear?"

"Santa Lucia, a traditional song," He says, before noticing that I'm unfamiliar with the piece. "Let me show you." He sits with me on the piano bench, playing the simple tune, and after watching him play, he pulls out the sheet music, and I play the song easily.

"This is a very pretty song." I transition into a classical song I learned back in seventh grade, letting my fingers glide over the keys, building a beautiful melody.

"Swan Lake, correct?" He asks, and I nod, finishing the song. "Bellissima. I know you were supposed to go with other girls, but you may stay until they can bring you to where you were needing to go. No charge."

"Thank you. And where did you learn your English? It's really good," I ask, and a soft smile spreads across his face.

"My wife teach me after she learn many, many years ago." How sweet. Heading back up to my room, I spend countless hours writing a new song, trying to come up with a decent story to convert into a song.

Over the next four days, I continue to call Rayna and Lane, multiple times per day, with no avail. You'd think they'd notice if I wasn't there. I wonder what they're doing in Scotland without me. The hotel owner, whose name I learn to be Antonio, spends the passing days with me, showing me the hidden gems of Venice, like a glass-blowing shop that makes little animal figurines, which I buy five of, museums all over the city, and some of the amazing restaurants that hold maybe a dozen people apiece, which can be found in alleyways or side streets. He teaches me more italian piano pieces and life lessons he's learned over his many decades of life.

"Please, someone pick up." I beg for the thousandth time, praying today might be my lucky day. After four rings, Rayna finally picks up, and I nearly cry with happiness. Finally. I love it here, but I am not supposed to be here.

"Who is this?" Rayna asks, seeming to be annoyed.

"Erika Taylor." Silence passes between the two of us, before she asks why I am calling her. "I am kind of stuck in Italy right now."

"Still at the hotel?" I answer with a yes, and she hangs up, and I sigh. What was that for? "I am going to kill Quincy."

"You're still here..." I watch her walk down the remaining stairs, in shock.

"Yes. It was supposed to be my vacation. I'll get you a flight back home, since there's no point in going to Scotland now. Are your things packed?" She asks, tapping away on her phone. "And booked. You're with me, we leave here in two hours. Get some lunch and meet me here at one thirty." She leaves me in the lobby of the worn hotel, and I am relieved that I get to go home.

"Ah, so someone finally pick up phone?" Antonio asks, and I nod, a sad smile across my face. "Che sarà, sarà. What will be, will be. I'll miss you, Signorina. Good luck on your journey. Love will find you soon."

"Thank you." I give the old man a hug, happy to have spent this time with him. "I will miss you." Smiling, I head upstairs to pack up the last of the clothes I have out, finishing in just a few minutes, and Rayna asks me if I want to get lunch with her, and although she seems strict, I say yes because I'm starving.

"Where do you want to go?" She asks, and I take her to one of the many places Antonio brought me that has the best pizza in the world and a gelato shop next door. After we eat, I convince her to get some gelato, the best kind of ice cream-like dessert in the world, and she eats it all quicker than I do.

"I told you it was good." I grin as we head back to the hotel, only a half hour left until we have to catch a cab and head to the airport.

"How did you find all of these places?" She asks as we arrive.

"The owner of the hotel. He kept me company while I thought I was stuck here alone."

"I'm sorry about all of that. How can I make it up to you?" She asks, flagging down a cab for us to head to the airport.

"You don't need to do anything. Really. It was kind of nice to get a break," I say, and she thinks for a moment before coming up with an idea.

"How about, I get Lorena to listen to a demo of a song of yours?" I mean, if you're offering, sure.

"After the show is over, sure." I shrug, and she seems shocked that I'm so chill about her offer. Well, I'm not inside. I'm freaking out and beyond excited. Lorena Wallis has heard my voice already, but she didn't know it was me.