Aida threw up her hands. She really couldn’t figure out this man at all. “Last time I saw you, you told me just howfunlessI was.”
Mo stood, waggling a finger at her. “See, this is why I like you. I take it back. You aren’t entirely funless.”
He turned and exited the chapel. “Arrivederci, Miss Reale,” he called out, not bothering to look back.
What the hell?She went to the door and looked out after him. He was not walking down the road like she expected, but rather he was cutting a path straight through the fields of green spring wheat. Aida wondered where he was going. There were only endless fields in front of him. He was walking north but the road went east. She briefly thought of calling out to him, then decided against it. It was probably what he wanted, and she hardly needed more berating that morning. She ducked back into the chapel and did her best to refocus her mind on her work, but she found herself in a quandary. How could she catalog the happiness of this place now that the encounter with Mo had marred it for her?
Fortunately, the arrival of the photographer set her back on the path of her work. An hour later, having finished their documentation inside the chapel, Aida and the photographer began packing up his equipment. The sheer amount of camera gear and accessories he had lugged in was a testament to his dedication, and Aida felt it only right to help carry some bags out to his car. As she hefted one of the heavy bags up and over her shoulder, the strap caught on her necklace with the little silver star pendant. Before she could react, the necklace was pulled taut, and it snapped off her neck.
“Oh no,” Aida cried out, raising a hand to her neck where the pendant had rested just moments before. Only a small part of theoriginal chain remained, still caught on the collar of her blouse, but the force had flung away the rest of the chain and pendant.
The photographer dropped his bag in horror. They both began anxiously scanning the ground near them, but it quickly became apparent the pendant had flown far enough that it was likely hidden within the lush field nearby. Seeing their distress, Aida’s driver came over to help search.
After several minutes of combing the area, the driver held up the remaining chain, now disconnected and empty. “Found this,” he said, his voice apologetic. But there was still no sign of the pendant itself.
Aida tried to stay calm. The necklace held real sentimental value for her—Graham had given it to her when he asked her to marry him. It had been a spontaneous decision on his part, having picked it up at a sidewalk stall on the way to meet her for dinner. It was a special moment, and the necklace was more important to her than the ring he bought her in the days afterward. The photographer kept profusely apologizing, clearly feeling guilty, though it had been an accidental mishap.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Aida assured him, though her spirits were crushed by the loss.
She took a deep centering breath. For now, they had to finish packing up and get moving. But as she climbed into the car, Aida couldn’t help but cast one last longing glance across the fields, irrationally hoping her pendant might glint in the sunlight and reveal itself.
The next morning when she called Graham, he was in such a terrible mood that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about the mishap with the necklace.
“While you’re gallivanting all over Italy, I’m trying to deal with a rat in the basement and a problem with the heat. Again. So, it’s freezing over here,” Graham said with a strained voice, the underlying resentment palpable. “To top it off, Mrs. Bellfrom next door has taken to practicing the piano at odd hours of the night. And I feel bad saying anything to her since she got her cancer diagnosis. So, between the cold and the noise, I’m getting barely any sleep.”
Aida winced. “I’m sorry, Graham. It sounds really rough.”
His sigh was heavy. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to deal with the real-world stuff.”
“It’s not all fun and games here,” Aida said, feeling defensive. “So much time has already flown by. I’ll be home before you know it.”
“Maybe for you it’s flown by. Not for me.”
Aida wasn’t sure what to do with his irritation. Graham was generally good-natured, always managing to look at the brighter side of life.
She attempted to switch the subject. “Hey, I have some good news. Last night I signed the contract for the deejay and started putting the playlist together.”
“Great,” he said. “Do I even get a say in that?”
Aida drew a deep breath. This side of him was unexpected. “Of course you do! That’s why I’m telling you. I just thought I’d get us started.”
“All right, okay.”
A deep unease rose within Aida. Was being away for so long a bad idea, after all? “Hey, you have spring break coming up. Why don’t you come to Italy? We started to talk about that but never figured it out. We can spend a little of the MODA money on a visit.”
“I can’t. There’s a conference on fusion energy and plasma physics that I want to go to.”
That he wants to go to more than he wants to come to me, Aida thought, stunned. But aloud she said, “That sounds like a good time.”
“Well, it is for me,” Graham said. “You’re having your adventures, so I will have mine.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Aida told him, although she thought it wasanything but. He sounded like he was trying to spite her. She couldn’t quite grasp this emerging side of him. It was a stark departure from the warmth he used to show. Now he just seemed disappointed in her, his words tinged with a cool detachment that was new and unsettling.
“I miss you, Graham. I don’t sleep well without you.”
“Same here. I need to get back to class. Talk to you soon. I love you.” He didn’t wait for a response. Her phone signaled the end of the call.
“I love you too,” she told the dark phone.
