19-04-2019, 10:58 PM
Helen looked at him curiously.
"She sent the carriage and horses?"
"Not quite, Contessa."
He wheeled her around the ambulance, to reveal her ride home.
Helen looked it over in amusement.
"I'm pretty fucking sure this wasn't Contessa Maria's idea, Maisson." She wheeled to the door, and Maisson helped her into the conveyance. "But something tells me that the person whose it was wouldn't do it if you didn't say it was safe. And I'm not going to give that skanky cow the satisfaction of backing down. See you back at the castle, Doc."
* * *
At a table in an outdoor café outside the San Finzione Marketplace, The Yia-Yia sat with her vino. Today, however, she was not alone.
A young couple, about Tessa's age, had stopped by her table. When they offered to buy her another bottle, she remembered them from about a year ago. The Greek Boy and his new American Bride. They'd been on their honeymoon and had something to do with that funny business in the park. They'd brought a second woman with them this time, who didn't speak Greek, not even on Mrs. Greek Boy's "American, but trying so hard, God bless her" level; so they didn't have much to say to each other. She didn't ask, but from what she could see of the three of them together, the Greek Boy and his wife had some kind of 'French' arrangement with the other woman, and they all seemed happy.
As they talked, the Yia-Yia noticed that there were no cars passing the corner where the café stood. The sidewalks, on the other hand, were crowded with people holding signs and watching the street. The three seated with her glanced toward the street, occasionally. They appeared to be waiting for something, like all the others; but they'd taken time to stop and have a drink with her, so that made them good kids, like Tessa. She wondered if they were friends of hers.
Soon, the crowd around them seemed to perk up, as if someone had spotted the thing they were all waiting for. The youngsters turned toward the street, phones at the ready, just like every young person these days. The noise of the crowd turned to cheering, and it looked like they were throwing confetti into the streets.
A slow-moving security officer car was the first thing the Yia-Yia saw. Even she might have been able to catch up with it at the speed it was driving. It was followed by four soldiers with their automatic rifles at the ready. The young people kept filming as the next sight appeared.
Eight oiled, muscular men; wearing nothing but loincloths, were carrying a litter on two poles. Mounted atop the poles was an antique carriage for a single occupant. Ornately carved, the carriage was inlaid with gold and silver trim, and studded with emeralds. The side doors bore the crest of La Familia de San Finzione.
The Yia-Yia only saw the occupant's face for a moment, but could have sworn that the woman inside the carriage was Tessa. Then she thought against it. Tessa wasn't like that woman. Tessa wouldn't have pointed accusingly at the Greek Boy's wife, or given her a look that was equal parts love, anger, and amusement. Maybe it was that woman who sort of looked like Tessa, from the posters some of the young people were still carrying. If she remembered by the time she saw Tessa again, she'd have to tell her about this aristocratic snob who bore a bit of a resemblance to her.
The three younger people had to leave soon after she passed. They said goodbye quickly, but politely, then started running in the direction that the marchers had been going last night. The Yia-Yia watched as the Greek Boy and his wife grabbed each other's hand before they ran across the street and out of sight.
The Yia-Yia wondered what was so interesting in that direction, and considered getting up and following them to see, when the waiter came and refilled her wine glass.
Yeah, why change a good thing now?
* * *
"She sent the carriage and horses?"
"Not quite, Contessa."
He wheeled her around the ambulance, to reveal her ride home.
Helen looked it over in amusement.
"I'm pretty fucking sure this wasn't Contessa Maria's idea, Maisson." She wheeled to the door, and Maisson helped her into the conveyance. "But something tells me that the person whose it was wouldn't do it if you didn't say it was safe. And I'm not going to give that skanky cow the satisfaction of backing down. See you back at the castle, Doc."
* * *
At a table in an outdoor café outside the San Finzione Marketplace, The Yia-Yia sat with her vino. Today, however, she was not alone.
A young couple, about Tessa's age, had stopped by her table. When they offered to buy her another bottle, she remembered them from about a year ago. The Greek Boy and his new American Bride. They'd been on their honeymoon and had something to do with that funny business in the park. They'd brought a second woman with them this time, who didn't speak Greek, not even on Mrs. Greek Boy's "American, but trying so hard, God bless her" level; so they didn't have much to say to each other. She didn't ask, but from what she could see of the three of them together, the Greek Boy and his wife had some kind of 'French' arrangement with the other woman, and they all seemed happy.
As they talked, the Yia-Yia noticed that there were no cars passing the corner where the café stood. The sidewalks, on the other hand, were crowded with people holding signs and watching the street. The three seated with her glanced toward the street, occasionally. They appeared to be waiting for something, like all the others; but they'd taken time to stop and have a drink with her, so that made them good kids, like Tessa. She wondered if they were friends of hers.
Soon, the crowd around them seemed to perk up, as if someone had spotted the thing they were all waiting for. The youngsters turned toward the street, phones at the ready, just like every young person these days. The noise of the crowd turned to cheering, and it looked like they were throwing confetti into the streets.
A slow-moving security officer car was the first thing the Yia-Yia saw. Even she might have been able to catch up with it at the speed it was driving. It was followed by four soldiers with their automatic rifles at the ready. The young people kept filming as the next sight appeared.
Eight oiled, muscular men; wearing nothing but loincloths, were carrying a litter on two poles. Mounted atop the poles was an antique carriage for a single occupant. Ornately carved, the carriage was inlaid with gold and silver trim, and studded with emeralds. The side doors bore the crest of La Familia de San Finzione.
The Yia-Yia only saw the occupant's face for a moment, but could have sworn that the woman inside the carriage was Tessa. Then she thought against it. Tessa wasn't like that woman. Tessa wouldn't have pointed accusingly at the Greek Boy's wife, or given her a look that was equal parts love, anger, and amusement. Maybe it was that woman who sort of looked like Tessa, from the posters some of the young people were still carrying. If she remembered by the time she saw Tessa again, she'd have to tell her about this aristocratic snob who bore a bit of a resemblance to her.
The three younger people had to leave soon after she passed. They said goodbye quickly, but politely, then started running in the direction that the marchers had been going last night. The Yia-Yia watched as the Greek Boy and his wife grabbed each other's hand before they ran across the street and out of sight.
The Yia-Yia wondered what was so interesting in that direction, and considered getting up and following them to see, when the waiter came and refilled her wine glass.
Yeah, why change a good thing now?
* * *
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