Page 45 of Enzo

MOLLY

I'm back home, from Venice.

Back in my lumpy, saggy little bed. Memories of Venice flash through my brain--of the palace and the ball and the dancing.

And Enzo.

The knight at the ball.

What a perfectly fitting name for a perfectly beautiful evening. I met Luca Valizar, too. I can’t wait to tell Miss T.

I sigh, giving my body a lazy stretch, lifting my arms up in the air, and letting out a loud exhale. Miss T. arranged for me to have Monday off. This means my children will have a substitute teacher, only for today. She’s always thinking of me. Always doing what’s best for me. I hope I pass my probation and Oakleigh takes me on.

This feels like my place, and I don’t ever want to leave. I hope Miss T liked the little video clips I sent her.

I should make the most of my rest day. I'll take it easy today and unpack and maybe get a few groceries in.

What time is it anyway? I reach for my cell phone and jolt up in bed.

Oh my days!

It's late afternoon. Just after half past two.

Half past two!

The children would be getting ready for story time now. I flop back against the headboard, not feeling my usual perky self. My body is exhausted from travel and I am jet lagged.

I should take it easy.

I peer at my phone again, because it's odd that Miss T hasn't replied to my email. That's not like her. I hope she's okay. I hope she recovered from that horrible cold she had.

I know why she hasn't replied. My phone is still on airplane mode. I take it out of airplane mode and decide to get out of bed and do something today, even if it’s just lazing around.

After brushing my teeth I water my plants, apologizing for neglecting them for a few days. Then I make a cup of coffee and sink into my cosy little couch and look around my tiny apartment. I wrap my hands around my chipped coffee mug.

It's good to be back. As different and as exciting as Venice was, I’m happy to be home again. My furniture doesn’t match. The red and green cushions clash with my tattered brown couch. Books are strewn everywhere, and the children’s Christmas cards are still strung across one wall more than two months later.

I smile. Soon they’ll be replaced by bright and colorful Easter cards. I can’t wait to go back to school tomorrow. Then I remember something I need to take in with me. I go into my kitchen where I've left a small paper bag of the souvenirs I bought in Venice. Three fridge magnets. One for Miss T, one for Kiki and one for me. They're watercolor images of Venice—bridges and gondolas, with a blue Grand Canal and a lilac sky. I thought they were really pretty.

I pick one up and stick it to my fridge, only to have memories of my weekend come flooding back.

The ball.

Dancing.

The masked knight.

It was magical, all of it, and it still doesn't feel real.

More like a dream I'm only just waking from.

***

Miss T. pops her head into the classroom in the middle of our painting lesson.

She pauses in the doorway longer than usual. She smiles, and I smile back, excited to see her.

“Miss Dean, when you get a minute, could you come and see me please?”