The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany(67)

I massage my forehead. One day, maybe I’ll look back on this conversation and find the humor.

Maybe.



* * *





La Stazione di Santa Maria Novella is a jungle of cars and taxis and frenzied passengers. Sofia insists on walking us to our train. My phone dings when we enter the bustling station. A text from Daria.

Where RU?

Damn. She’s ticked, and I don’t blame her. I’d promised to call her . . . three days ago. But I was so consumed with Gabe I completely forgot.

I type as I walk. Train station. Florence. Will call in 5 minutes. Promise!

I mean where, exactly??

I practically ram into Lucy before I realize she and Sofia and Poppy have stopped. I look up, struck by the chaos. People storm past us, angry and agitated. Voices are loud, frustrated. To my left, a huge line snakes beyond the ticket counter. A man hands us a pamphlet. I make out two words: Salario Equo. Fair Pay.

“Oh, hell,” Sofia says, shepherding us over to the side of the platform. “The train workers have gone on strike.”

Poppy clutches her chest. “I should have been paying attention. They announce these things in advance.”

“They announce their strikes?” I notice a poster on the wall, the same one I spotted when we arrived Thursday, telling of an upcoming sciopero.

“We better hightail it to another station,” Lucy says.

“It’s nazionale,” Sofia says, reading the pamphlet. “The whole country is affected for the next twenty-four hours.”

“So what do we do now?” Lucy asks. “Can we fly to Ravello?”

“No. But you can catch a flight to Naples, and take a bus from there.”

An American man beside us pipes up. “All domestic flights are booked solid.” He holds his iPhone out to us. “I’ve checked all the carriers. The soonest anyone can get out of here is tomorrow afternoon.”

My heart sinks. I can’t even look at Poppy.

“You can rent a car,” Sofia says. “Or, you can come back to the inn.” She smiles at Lucy. “My brother and I will welcome another day of your company.”

My head spins. Could this rail-worker strike be fate, forcing our return to Casa Fontana? Might Gabe have had an epiphany in the past hour? Might he run to me with open arms, having realized he almost lost me?

Lucy shakes her head. “We have to get to the cathedral.”

I close my eyes, shamed by my selfishness. “Absolutely.”

“Is that the line for rentals?” Lucy asks, lifting her head above the crowd. “Shit. We’ll be here all day.”

I spot the car rental booth just as the agent pulls down the gate. He tapes a sign to the wall. Esaurito. The crowd erupts with curses and boos.

“They have sold out,” Sofia says.

Poppy whimpers, a sound so faint it breaks my heart. I grab her hands.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get there. I promise.” But inside, I’m not the least bit convinced.

“You will take Gabriele’s car,” Sofia says.

“No,” I say. “We can’t do that.”

“You can. I promise. He would want this.”

Uh-huh. To ease his guilty conscience?

“He can arrange for someone to return it. Until then, he and I will use the Vespas.”

Lucy claps her hands. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s hit it.”

We move against the crowd, inching our way to the exit. I lock eyes with a brunette about fifty feet away, coming toward us. She’s wearing a denim jacket with a backpack slung over her shoulder. She looks like Daria. So much like Daria. Exactly . . . like . . .

“Daria?” I say. I call again, louder this time, and wave my arms. “Daria!”

Lucy shoots me a look. Before I can utter a word, she sees her, too.

“What the hell? Daria’s here? In Italy?”





Chapter 33




Emilia

I edge my way through the crowded platform, overcome with love and confusion and joy and disbelief. “You’re here!” I grab Daria in my arms and squeeze her with all my might. “You came all this way. I can’t believe it.”

“Easy, sister,” she says and gives an awkward chuckle before untangling herself. “I barely recognized you. You got new glasses.”

I start to thank her, before I realize she didn’t actually compliment me. “How did you find us?”

“I followed the itinerary you left with Dad.”

“I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my god, thank you.”

“What was I supposed to do? You call me from Venice in the middle of the night, lost and terrified. Then we’re cut off and I hear nothing. I finally get one measly text telling me you’d call. And do you? No.”

My sister was worried. She came here to rescue me. I can’t stop smiling. “Sorry about that,” I say. “I made it home safely, as you can see.”

She turns to Lucy. “And you. Do you never answer your phone?”

“I broke up with that ugly-ass Samsung the minute I got here,” Lucy says, without skipping a beat. “I miss it about as much as my old headgear.” She slings an arm around Sofia. “By the way, this is Sofie.”

Sofia extends her hand and offers a shy smile. “Nice to meet you.”