I sit back. I see our beach chairs below us.
“You know what I really want to do?” I say to Adam.
“Tell me.”
“Nothing,” I say.
Adam smiles. “You sure?” he says. “We’re already here. And Capri is pretty great. Great shopping, great bars.”
“I’ve seen pictures,” I say. “There’s a Prada store.”
“There are a lot of small boutiques. I thought that might be your thing. You dress well, different.”
“Thanks,” I say. Although, I’d never describe my style as different. Derivative with a twist, maybe. “I do like to shop, but today I just want to be here and not feel like there’s anywhere I have to go or anything I have to do. Is that okay?”
Adam gives me a slow nod. “Yes,” he says. “That is very much okay.”
For the next four hours, all we do is nap and swim. It’s heaven. I go from the ocean to the beach lounger to the rocks and back. That’s it, that’s all. Just the simplicity of water and rocks and stunning views. There is wine and water and icy lemonade. I reapply sunscreen, and Adam switches chairs with me once the umbrella can no longer cover us both. He reads. I close my eyes, and for the first time in months, there is a pleasant blankness there. I am not met with images of hospitals, or questions about my future, the uncertainty of what’s to come. All I feel is this—this complete embrace of the present.
When four-thirty rolls around, we see Amelio bobbing on the water. Adam waves and we pack up, making our way to the dock as he slowly pulls in.
We board. My skin is full of salt water and sunscreen, and my cover-up is tucked in my bag. I haven’t put it on once.
“Nice?” Amelio asks.
“The best,” I say. “I think I might move here.” I imagine a life full of endless beach days.
As we pull away from La Fontelina, I see the rocks of Faraglioni ahead. A few boats are passing under. A couple kisses in the archway.
“Would you like to go?” Amelio asks.
Adam looks to me. “Sure,” he says. We’re on the leather front of the boat. He sits up and slides his arms around his knees. “I feel I should give you the full Capri experience.”
My heart starts pounding. I have no idea what he means by that. Does he want me to see the nature-made architectural wonder, up close? Or is he going to kiss me under those rocks? What’s thefull experience?
The thump of my pulse gets louder and louder like approaching horses. I feel the question hang there between us as we drive toward the rocks.
Once we’re close, Amelio slows the engine. Adam stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back on his hands. He tilts his head to the side to look at me. But he doesn’t move his body, not yet.
“Here go!” Amelio calls.
We begin to pull through the archway. There is a cool breeze off the water, and we’re surrounded by rocks. I sense Adam close to me, closer than he was mere moments ago. I sense his skin—salty, warm—and the brush of his clothing.
We’re fully encapsulated now. The moment hovers around us like an air bubble, threatening to pop.
“Katy,” Adam says. His voice is barely above a whisper, and I turn to him. He’s looking at me with so much intensity I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s really going to do it. The seconds crawl by like years. Time, doubled over, lapsed, like it is here, now, doesn’t hold the same weight. It doesn’t mean the same thing. We are young and we are old and we are coming and going, all at once.
We’re almost out. I can see the sun begin to crest, straining to meet us. It’s now or never.
And then Adam takes my hand. He takes my palm and presses his palm against it, interlacing his fingers with mine. He keeps it there as we pull back out, into the sunshine.
“Beautiful!” Amelio calls.
“Beautiful,” Adam says, still looking at me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I don’t see Carol the next day, either, and two days later, Adam takes me to Naples. One of his favorite places, he claims, in all of Italy.
