Madeline
The taste of the searing sun felt nice on the back of Sarah’s legs. It seemed hotter here than back home. Harsher. She had rubbed sunscreen on her legs earlier in the day and wondered if it was time to reapply.
The white and blue striped umbrella that was put out and opened before she ever arrived protected the rest of her body. The club did not intend it specifically for her, but for whoever will pay the extra ten Euros to sit in the unobstructed front row. If responsibility flowed through her veins, she would have sat in the cheaper chairs, but she did not believe now was the time to be responsible. She can be responsible back at home.
She flipped over onto her back. The provided blue towel moved and she reached down to straighten it. But when she couldn’t reach she sat up and flattened the towel. She looked out at the water. Is this what people did in the Mediterranean? Look out at the water and do nothing?
She gathered her blonde hair on top of her head, careful not to yank her extensions, and secured it with the elastic tie from around her wrist.
She may have only been in Italy for less than a week and she was realizing how lonely it was to travel alone. All the exciting things, she made a note of in her head. No one to say the words, “Remember the time,” and end with something amazing, interesting, or funny that had happened. Sarah took a deep breath and thought back to what started this whole solo adventure.
–
Rain hit the skylight with force. That Sarah clearly remembers. She sensed that it was doomsday; if the dark gray sky was any indicator, she was right.
“Fine then, I will go alone,” said Sarah.
“I don’t mean to upset you, it’s just such short notice, and I’m working on a pretty big account at work. I can’t just pick up and go to Italy for two weeks. You know I love you and I would do anything for you.”
“Would you really?” Sarah tilted her head.
“Yes.”
And were disturbed by Sarah’s response, “Then go to fucking Italy with me.”
“I don’t think the responsible thing is to pick up and go to Italy. You did just lose your job. How are you going to afford this?”
“You said you would go with me back when I had a job. Why are you changing your mind? Did you change your mind just because I don’t have a job.”
Sarah didn’t hear Kelly’s reply. She already knew that if she was going to go, it was going to be without Kelly. No one else was available to get on a plane the next week either, not that the list of invitees was long.
—
The waiter interrupted her thoughts, “Here is your Pina Colada.” He bent down to hand it to her.
“Thank you,” she took the large glass and smiled at him. He wore a tight shirt revealing his toned body and his sandy blonde hair was a mess atop his head but he played it off as sexy, not messy. She was sure his appearance was not an accident. He was the type of guy, you would hope to meet on a Mediterranean vacation. She couldn’t place his accent but it was for sure not Italian. Eastern European perhaps?
She lifted the large round bowl for a glass, placed the straw against her lips, and took a large gulp. She placed the large glass down and stood up. The beach swayed a little and she gave a secret smile. She was drunk and she liked it.
She wiped her hands on her black one-piece, not brave enough to bare her body in a two-piece like she did when she was younger.
As she walked the smooth sand and felt pebbles pushed between her toes. When she was mid-calf deep in the sea, she reached down and splashed some water onto her shoulders one at a time.
She looked up to see a beautiful woman walking towards her. It was hard not to notice anyone on the beach; it was March which meant it was shoulder travel season in Italy. The weather was nice enough to visit but it was not during the peak travel season.
The woman had dark hair that appeared to be red in the sun. A wide-brimmed hat sat above her head and a flowy white cover-up that was not covering much flowed behind her. She was brave enough to don a bikini, but why wouldn’t she, she had a perfect figure, small in the middle and curved on either side.
As she approached Sarah perceived a moment of recognition, regardless of the large sunglasses on the woman’s face. Sarah looked out at the horizon. Privacy on a near-empty beach should be expected.
But to Sarah’s surprise, the women stopped feet from her.
“Do I know you?” The woman asked.
Sarah forced herself to look at the woman, “No, I don’t think so. I’m not from around here.”
The woman gave a smile, “None of us are from around here,” Her accent was American, but not from New England like Sarah’s.
“I know,” the woman raised a hand, thumb to middle finger together pointing her index finger to the sky. She bounced her hand a bit, “Pompeii. Did you go to Pompeii… what was it…?”
“On Tuesday?”
“Yes. I think we were in the same tour group. Those groups are large, hard to remember everyone.”
“Yes, that’s right. You were the one who got yelled at for touching the wall.”
“I got yelled at for more than that,” The woman said and gave a laugh. “Miranda,” the woman reached out her hand, “Or are we not supposed to do that anymore?”
“It’s fine,” Sarah said and took her hand and gave it a single shake, “Sarah.”
“Well, I didn’t want to bother you, but I could not figure out where I knew you from.” Miranda started walking in the direction she was going, “Maybe I’ll see you around again or something.”
Sarah smiled and gave a meek, “Bye” with a flimsy wave of the hand.
–
Sarah went back to her hotel across the way. It wasn’t a fancy hotel, but the location could not be beaten. She even had a balcony that looked over the Mediterranean sea. She stood out there now, straight arms on the rot iron balcony, and her blonde hair was dry enough to blow in the breeze. The sky was red, yellow and orange. She took a deep breath, caught in the moment. When she got home she would need to deal with her bank account. Or lack of. But for now, her carefree ran from the setting sun, through her hair, and into the credit card she now relied on.
Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten since the free hotel breakfast. A glass of wine and a bowl of spaghetti with mussels was just the thing she needed. The beach club she spent the day at was nearby and the restaurant menu was full of the Italian food she craved. Being in a tourist town, she questioned the authenticity, but then again, no restaurant here could probably be called authentic.
A few minutes later, she sat at the bar, running a finger along the rim of the glass of an Italian Chianti. It was a bit sweet for her untrained taste but the price was right.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Sarah looked up, expecting the question to be directed at someone else. Miranda stood above her, one hand on the next chair the other on the back of Sarah’s chair. After a beat, she added, “I can sit somewhere else if you prefer to be alone.”
“No no, please. Sit,” Sarah said and gestured palm up as Miranda took a seat. “What a coincidence. Us choosing the same place to eat dinner.”
“I’ll have whatever that is,” Miranda gestured to Sarah’s wine glass, looked up at the bartender, and turned back to Sarah. “It’s not that big of a coincidence. We both just spend the day at this beach. Besides, in this town, I’m more interested in the view than the food and it seems to be that at most places the views are limited to the walls of the restaurant next door. Any beach view seems limited to this restaurant and the two next door.”
Sarah nodded. Coming from anyone else, this type of declaration may have seemed bitchy, but coming from Miranda, Sarah could not help but agree.
“Thank you,” Miranda said to the bartender as he placed the glass in front of her.
“So, where are you from?”
“Originally or Now?”
“Originally. Now. How about both?”
“Originally, I am from the San Francisco Bay Area. I guess you can say I am a product of where I came from. If you want to be in finance, you go to New York. If you want to be in entertainment, you go to Los Angeles. But if you want to go into technology, you go to San Francisco.” Sarah said. She furrowed her brow, where was she going with this?
“Well, I didn’t need to move. I was already there. Boot Camps were popular then so I signed up and became a full stack developer….”
Sarah gave her a quizzical look, “meaning I can code an application from the user interface to the database to the backend code. Basically, I can do it all. I got a job directly after this twelve-week boot camp. I spent twenty thousand dollars and then poof, suddenly I am an adult with a big girl job. I did that for a few years. I worked for various tech companies. Then the world shut down…” Although Miranda paused again, Sarah didn’t need any explanation as to what she meant. Everyone knew what that meant.
“My company went remote. Remote turned into layoffs. A layoff turned into a trip to Europe.”
The story was all too familiar to Sarah. Finally, someone who understood her.
“So, then,” Miranda said, “I started my own technology company. I now go where I want. I do what I want, as long as I can keep users coming in and paying me. It’s great. Except for one thing.”
“What is that?”
“My passion is technology. I love sitting in front of a computer and working out the problems to get the thing to go and do what my customers need it to. I hate the marketing and sales piece. But it is a necessity if I want to live this lifestyle. So, to answer your question, now, I am from everywhere.” Miranda turned her palms upward and shrugged. “So, now that you know my life story. How about you? What do you do? Where are you from?”
Sarah smiled, “Me? Well, I just lost my sales job at a technology company, and my degree is in marketing. And I think I want to be from everywhere too.”
