He winked. Then he took our passports and typed our information into a computer. All the while he kept sneaking glances at us. Either he was stealing our identities orpicturing us having sex. I couldn’t decide which I preferred. Then, abruptly, he began walking toward a minuscule elevator, speaking over his shoulder.
“Andiamo,”he said. “I show for you now, the room,ragazzi. Follow me. Follow me.”
We went up a few floors and the room he showed was beautiful, but small, with two toilets. My glance volleyed between the two.
“That one is the bidet,” said Daniel, reading my mind.
I turned it on and it shot out a stream of boiling water.
“How do you know all of this?” I asked.
He shrugged and sat down on the bed.
“My dad used to be in the Air Force. We traveled a lot. I’ve seen my share of toilets.”
“I see,” I said. “A real toilet connoisseur.”
“Something like that.”
I nodded. And then everything got sort of quiet. It took me a moment to realize it was because we were in a hotel room together. Alone. In another country.
Did I mention alone?
Up until now, most of our interactions had been chaperoned in some way. Now there was no one in the room but us. So, I stayed in the bathroom for a minute, switching the bidet on and off, pretending to be fascinated by it. Finally,I walked out and just looked at Daniel on the bed. His face was really tired. His eyes were slits. His dark hair was sticking up in the front.
“What are we really doing here?” I said.
He opened his eyes a little more.
“We’re creating something for Jonah,” he said.
“Is that true?”
I walked over and sat at the foot of the bed. There were fresh flowers in the room and the smell was overpowering.
“I don’t know anything about this place,” I continued. “I don’t know what he would want here. And I don’t know if I’m really here for him.”
I slumped over on my side and watched the gauzy curtains ripple in a breeze.
“So, why are you here then?” said Daniel.
His voice was quiet.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “Maybe it’s just to escape. Maybe it’s... for other reasons.”
He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “Say that’s true. Is it so bad?”
“The whole idea was to plan a funeral for Jonah.”
“So what?” he said.
I looked at him through narrowed eyes.
“What do you mean ‘so what’?”
“I mean there’s no protocol for this, Tess. We’re on our own with our grief. But at least we’re not pretending that nothing happened. At least we’re trying something. Maybe we can forgive ourselves a little bit.”
