Lucas stepped on the gas and the car lurched away. Instinctively, I grabbed the seat and only let go when the car stopped bucking and rattling. We left the center of town behind us and headed south. The tiny streets of Sorrento seemed to hug the cliffside, and once we were on the highway, the views of the Gulf of Naples were astonishing. The starry sky melted into the sea at the horizon like a black blanket enveloping the coast, and far off, I could see the unmistakable outline of Vesuvius crowned by a tiny crescent moon.
“My God, it’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Wait till you see it during the day.”
The mere thought of it made me tingle with anticipation. Lucas slowed down and put on his turn signal, veering left and parking next to a wall behind a white van with the logo of a florist painted on the side.
“Here we are.”
He got out and grabbed my suitcase, and I followed him, awed by the silence. There was nothing visible except that wall that seemed to extend off into infinity. Around the corner, we saw two lights hanging over an archway and double doors of wood beneath it.
I wasn’t ready for what I saw when I walked through them: animmense garden, with trees, bushes, and stone flowerpots full of flowers. Climbing roses, jasmines winding around an iron trellis forming a natural canopy of leaves. In the middle of that oasis was a three-story building with earth-tone walls and wooden shutters. It was huge, and there were lights hanging from the facade illuminating the doorway.
“There’s no way you actually live here,” I said. “This place is amazing!”
“Welcome to Villa Vicenza!” Lucas said proudly.
“I feel like I’m in a movie. I can’t imagine what it feels like to wake up to this every day.”
“I got lucky,” he responded. “Finding my apartment here is probably what got me to stay.”
“Are there other people here?”
“Yeah, it’s six apartments in total, two on each floor. The first floor is the owner and her family. On the second, there’s a Galician couple, retired: Iria and Blas. They’re nice. Roy is there, too, he’s a painter from Mallorca. Weird, but cool. On the third floor is Julia and me. Julia’s Spanish, too, but she’s been in Sorrento almost fifteen years. She has a hair salon downtown. Her nephews are here right now, but not for much longer if I have anything to say about it. They spend all night making noise on their stupid video-game console. Oh, there’s also a couple of cats around. You’re not allergic, are you? I should have asked earlier.”
He actually seemed nervous, timid even, which I found charming. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” he concluded.
“I asked,” I said. “Anyway, I’m not allergic to cats. Not that I know of. I don’t usually get too close to animals. I don’t think they like me.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
Those words in that deep voice of his made me blush. He opened the door, and I suddenly felt apprehensive, as if all this was just too much.
“So everyone here’s Spanish?” I asked.
“Almost.”
“That’s a coincidence!”
“The owner’s Spanish, and she’s turned this place into a commune, or a shelter, or whatever you want to call it. I love it here. Hold on, though. I don’t want you to trip over anything.”
I stood still as he turned on a light that flickered a few times. I looked up and saw a bronze lamp with chandelier bulbs. The vestibule was large, with whitewashed walls and blue hand-painted borders. It was crumbling in places, but rather than making it look run-down, that just added to the naturalness and authenticity of it. On either side of us was a door with a straw mat in front of it. A stone staircase with an iron handrail led to the upper floors, and further back, I could see another large set of wooden doors like the ones we’d just walked through.
I followed Lucas up the stairs to the top floor, where the ceiling was a little lower. He slid the key into the lock of the door on the left, turned on the lights, and invited me in, apologizing for the disorder. I took a quick look around. It was a roomy apartment with the two bedrooms, the kitchen, and the bathroom extending off the living room. I couldn’t imagine a person needing anything more. The walls were bare, and there was no more furniture than necessary: just a sofa, a table with four chairs, a sideboard, and a couple of shelves. Aside from that, there were an end table and a TV hanging on the wall. I liked it; it was very cozy.
“You can sleep here,” Lucas said, turning on the light in one of the bedrooms and rolling my suitcase in. There was a bed without sheets there, a closet, a dresser, and a desk with a chair. It was a nice size, with two windows that must have let in lots of light during the day.
“Thanks so much for letting me stay the night,” I said. “I’ll be gone in the morning. I don’t want to bother you any more than necessary.”
“There’s no rush. My old roommate moved out last week and I still haven’t gotten any calls from anyone interested. So for now, it’s free.”
“You’re renting it?” I asked.
He nodded. “Believe it or not, I’m not getting rich at the restaurant. Renting the room out helps me make it to the end of the month, and thankfully, my landlord doesn’t mind.”
“I could pay you.”
“Come on, now, I don’t charge by the hour. I’m doing this because I want to, OK?”
