All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 35

On our way back out of the grove, a protruding root caught Paulo by surprise, the dark leather loafers he wore not offering any protection, and he stubbed his toe badly. I tried not to giggle while he stomped around behind me for several minutes, muttering nonsensical sounds that reminded me of old-school cartoons where the cursing was all in gibberish or punctuation symbols. This was a g-rated boy I was hanging with. It was kind of nice.

He finally sat down on the offending root and removed his shoe and sock. We both grimaced at the site of his big toe, surprisingly well-groomed, I noticed, and the toenail broken well below the quick. Blood was welling around the cuticle and I thought I felt a twinge of sympathy pain in my ankle.

"Do you think we can trade places for a while?" he asked. I thought perhaps he might be only half joking.

I handed him the bottle of water we'd been sharing and he took a long swig. "You can use it to wash the toe if you need to. I don't need any more," I offered.

"You only want to see me cry like a baby, yes?" He shook his head and made clucking noises as he gingerly prodded at the joint behind the toenail. It looked a little swollen.

"Do you think it's broken?" I asked. Then I did start to giggle. Weren't we a pair, sitting out here in the middle of the olive grove with our busted up feet.

"No. I only kicked it very hard." He stretched his legs out in front of him and sighed in frustration. He ran a hand over his hair and down to the back of his neck, shaking his head as he eyed his foot.

I hoped he was right. The toe looked awful and it had to be hurting something fierce. Stubbed toes were the worst.

We sat in silence for several minutes, both lost in thoughts of our own. He had his eyes closed and face lifted to the drops of sunlight splashing to the ground through the silver leaves overhead. I studied his profile, his nose a little too long for his face, his full mouth, and deep-set eyes. His hair looked like one side wanted to curl but the other resisted the urge. I decided he must have a couple of cowlicks under that mop. Maybe that's why he left it a little long.

The waffle-weave shirt he wore fit snugly to his torso, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and his narrow waist. The collarless neck had a v-shaped notch in the front and I thought I could see the pulse jumping sure and steady in the hollow between his collarbones. He'd pushed up the long, raglan-style sleeves, exposing his shapely forearms, and the shirt hem hung just past the waistband of his jeans. He looked comfortable and well put together at the same time.

"Paulo? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied politely, but didn't move. For some reason, the thought that he might be praying sprang to mind. He kind of struck me as a religious man. I chewed on my lip, wondering if I should wait. I certainly didn't want to interrupt any conversation he might be having with God.

Finally, he turned toward me, his eyes only half open. "What is it you want to know?" Clearly, he was done communing or whatever he'd been doing.

"Why do you sound so native that even the locals think you're from here? Being American and all."

"Ah." He leaned forward to pick up the water bottle from where it rested between his knees. He took a quick drink and cleared his throat, as though preparing to give a presentation. In a generic, white-bread American accent, he said, "My name is Paulo Durante. I'm from Portland, Oregon. My dad, also Paul Durante, flew internationally for Delta Airlines for many years. He met my mother on a layover here in Italy. She was a waitress in one of the restaurants in the Knight's Square, the Piazza dei Cavalieri, in Pisa." A shaft of sunlight kept flashing across his face and he squinted at me and smiled, then turned away and continued his story. "She made him come back three times before she would say 'yes' to going out with him. He always said, 'Third time's a charm, son. Remember that.' She'd laugh and tell me 'It was love at third sight, Paulo.' They claimed that after their first date, they knew they were meant to be together forever." He glanced at me, grinning at the look on my face. I was astonished to hear him sound so... American, and I didn't try to hide it.