They crested the hill and Giovanni upshifted and nodded. “That’s right. They bought that farmhouse from two old brothers who have lived in the valley since they were born. The old men are twins, almost seventy years old. For the past fifty years, they've earned a hand-to-mouth living by gathering olives and squeezing them for oil, harvesting and selling grapes for others to sell wine.”
Up ahead, they twisted through crumbling stone fences to a town nestled atop a hill. Jess shielded her eyes from the midday sun, squinting to make out the ancient walls ringing the town. She shrugged. “They must have made a bundle selling the place.” She remembered the property had fifty acres of olive groves, and stunning views onto the Valle D’Orsace.
“Over two million Euros, that’s what it sold for.” Giovanni downshifted. They approached a gate through the city wall. “Do you know the only question the brothers asked the English couple who bought their place?”
Jess had no idea. “Advice on where to go to the beach?”
The road narrowed to a single lane, and they passed through a portico gate, a heavy wrought-iron door with savage teeth hanging above their heads. Giovanni laughed. “No, they asked if you had to lie flat in an airplane when you flew from England.”
Jess frowned at Giovanni. “Are you kidding?”
“Not at all.” Giovanni let the Maserati glide up a narrow cobbled street, the air turning cool in the shadows. He pulled onto the side and stopped, turned the engine off, and turned to face Jess. “Those two brothers lived in their valley for seventy years, but they never even traveled to Rome, not even to Florence—just thirty miles away. After getting their two million Euros, guess what they did?”
The smell of warm bread filled the air, and Jess glanced at the shop next to them. A bakery. Her mouth watered. Even with her stomach full, she had to resist an urge to jump up and walk into the shop.
She turned to Giovanni. “I’d bet the brothers traveled the world, no?” It seemed like a logical thing after asking about airplanes.
“No. They moved here.” Giovanni held out one hand to the town around them. “They didn’t want to be anywhere else. The only reason they sold their farm was because they were getting too old to gather the olives by hand. Now they live in that apartment.” He pointed at an open window, blue curtains billowing out. An old man sat there, looking out, and waved at Giovanni. He waved back. “They are happy here, there is nowhere else they would be.”
“So what’s your point?”
“That the end of the world is coming for all of us, one way or the other, our own personal apocalypse will find each and every one of us. But, if you are happy, being where you want, with the people you want, and are at peace—then why go somewhere else when the end comes? That is why the farmers are still tilling their fields.”
Jess smiled and waved at the old brother in the window. “Is that why you brought me all the way out here?” It was a good point, but she was tired.
Giovanni shook his head. “No.” He opened his car door and came around to Jess’s side, opening her door to offer a hand. “We came to visit here.”
Jess looked up at the shop they had parked in front of. A painted-black door with two bay windows in lead glass to each side. A small sign, Protesi e Stampelle, hung in front of frayed white curtains in one of the windows. “It looks closed.” She took Giovanni’s hand, felt the warmth of his grip, and got up from the low sports car to balance on her crutches.
“I talked to the owner earlier,” Giovanni assured her. “He is waiting for us.”
The curtains parted and a man’s face appeared. A moment later the door swung open. “Ah, Barone Ruspoli, buon giorno.” A slender man in a brown suit and bow tie smiled at Jess and Giovanni, strands of hair combed across his balding pate.
Giovanni embraced the little man, kissing him on both cheeks. “Signore Hamel, thank you for making time for us. This is Jessica Rollins, my friend I told you about. Jessica, this is Signore Hamel.”
“Ah, si.” The small man’s mouth twitched, and he looked down at Jessica’s crutches and leg. “Un piacere. Please, call me Ernesto.” He backed away into his shop, opening the door wide for them to follow him.
Giovanni held a hand out, offering to let Jess go ahead of him. She still had no idea what they were doing, not until she swung through the doorway. Inside, one wall was lined with shoes and boots on display, but on the other side of the shop were prosthetic half-legs, all standing at attention in white and brown shoes. Creepy.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Jess muttered, coming to a standstill.
Ernesto indicated a chair in the middle of the room. “Please, sit, yes?” He disappeared through curtains into the back of his shop.
Jess felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. “Look, I’m not going to attach some wooden peg-leg.”
“Trust me.” Giovanni rested his hands on Jess’s shoulders. “Sit.”