Aida didn’t have the heart to tell her friend that her optimism wasn’t exactly brimming over these days. Her money was trickling away, straining under the cost of her upcoming wedding to Graham at the end of May. He was a teacher and certainly didn’t make bank, and now that she was out of a job, her uncertain future didn’t exactly elicit joy.
Felix prattled on. “But back to the historian. The tours I have arranged for him are to strange and beautiful places that most tourists wouldn’t ever know about.”
One of the things that Aida had always loved about Felix washow animated her friend grew when he waxed historical. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
“I had a call very early this morning from Lady Ozie’s assistant. Apparently, the historian is no longer working for her. She was asking if I could recommend an expert on Italy who may need work. Of course, I thought of you. It’s a three-month gig to start, then if the person works out, they will offer a five-year employment contract. I know it might be a stretch for you two... moving overseas, but figured it might be worth looking into it.”
Aida’s heart ballooned at the kindness of the gesture.
“She called you on Christmas Eve?”
Felix nodded. “Well, one of her employees did. Everything about Lady Ozie is bizarre, but you know what a guide’s salary is like. She pays so well that I’d take calls from her at threea.m. if I had to.”
“Your Christmas present wouldn’t take kindly to that, I expect,” she teased.
He laughed. “Probably not.”
“Why didn’t you offer to take the job?”
“She’s looking for a historian with credentials, and I don’t have that kind of experience. Besides, I love the work I do and if she keeps paying me extra on the side, I’m happy.”
The prospect of meeting Lady Ozie and conducting hands-on research in Italy was intriguing. Living in Italy was certainly tempting. But it didn’t make much sense to give it any real consideration. Graham didn’t speak Italian, and what job opportunities could a high school physics teacher find there?
“What kind of name is Lady Ozie?” she mused. There was a story in this strange scenario and her curious side was keen to know more.
“It’s anyone’s guess. My amateur internet sleuthing has turned up nothing. I like to imagine she’s an eccentric duchess running a secret society of librarians,” Felix offered.
Aida snorted. “You’ve been reading too many novels.”
“Or binge-watching Netflix,” he countered. “What are your plans for Christmas? Where’s Graham?”
“He’s cooking dinner. I should go help him,” Aida said. Just then, the door behind Felix cracked open and a hushed conversation ensued.
“Bedtime,” Felix said, winking at Aida. “Hang in there,cara. And let me know if you meet with Lady Ozie!” He blew her a few air kisses and then ended the call.
“Who was that?” Graham asked when she finally joined him in the kitchen. Aida pretended she didn’t notice his irritation as Graham pulled the goose out of the oven and set the steaming pan on a nearby cutting board.
“Felix in Rome. He says hi,” she said. “You know that letter I just got?” She explained the situation to her fiancé.
Graham took off the oven mitts and looked at her. “It sounds really cool, but a job in Italy? I’m confused. Why would Felix suggest that? He knows we’re getting married in a few months, and that I teach.”
Aida shrugged. “I think because the trial period could give me a quick infusion of cash, even if I decide not to take it long-term. It does sound interesting.”
“Interesting? More interesting than me?”
She swatted him on the shoulder and gave him a conciliatory smile. “Don’t be silly.”
Her fiancé laughed and enveloped her in a hug. But as she stared over his shoulder at the steaming goose, she had to admit that a little piece of her wanted to do it. She pushed the thought away and hugged him tight.
The doorbell rang again, but this time it was Graham’s parents, Brennan and Miriam, with an armful of colorfully wrapped presents and a plastic-wrapped tray of cookies. Miriam was the first to step inside, her perfume filling the room with a familiar floral scent. She was a petite woman, her hair gone gray but carefully coiffed, her ensemble stylish in a conservative way.
“Merry Christmas, darling,” Miriam said, her lips landing on both of Aida’s cheeks in quick succession. “You look a bit thin. Good thing I brought cookies.”
Aida suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, instead offering a tight smile. “I’m fine, Miriam.”
Brennan was next, a tall lanky man whose stern demeanor was etched into every line on his face. Unlike Miriam, he wasn’t one for effusive displays of affection, but he managed a slight smile and a nod in Aida’s direction. “Aida,” he greeted.
“Graham, darling,” Miriam cooed, turning to her son with a warm smile. “Thank you for hosting us.”
