My Treasure

It was five-thirty on Thursday, and Lorelei was at her usual café in Florence, which overlooked the Piazza Duomo. The Café Florian had become a staple in her life during the last year, and upon finishing work for the day, she came to enjoy the beauty of the Piazza where she would watch people and drink caffè lattes. She looked forward to this part of her day. She also looked forward to seeing Mateo. Seeing him made each day complete.

“Ciao signorina!” Mateo said as he stopped by her table to take her order, although she was aware that he knew it by heart since she ordered the same thing each day. Mateo was the manager of the Italian café, and he made it a point to always welcome Lorelei and personally take her order, as well to flirt a bit with the beautiful, blonde American. He was older, or so she thought, although not enough years to make any substantial difference in their ages. His English, though good, was still a bit lacking at times.

“Ciao Mateo,” she smiled. “How are you today?"

“I am very good now that you are here,” he said as he winked at her. “How are you today, Lorelei?” he asked with a handsome smile.

“I am well,” Lorelei said. “I’ll have…”

Mateo immediately interrupted her. “You’ll have your same? Si? The caffè latte?”

“Si,” Lorelei nodded.

Their conversations always employed a mixture of English and Italian, as each attempted to converse in the other’s language.

As Mateo left to get the coffee, Lorelei noticed the hustle and bustle going on in the Piazza today. There was a stage constructed and the workers were currently hanging lights above it. She had not heard anything about an outdoor show, so she was curious. Once Mateo returned with her coffee, she questioned him.

“Mateo, what is going on in the Piazza?”

“Oh, there will be music for everyone tonight. A trio singing the musica bel canto – or the music of old Italy. Will you be going, signorina?”

Lorelei had not heard about the concert. “I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about it,” she said.

Mateo casually took the seat across from her. “Signorina, you must come. Please, you will be my guest? Allow me to introduce you to something that is so wonderful and magnificent,” Mateo insisted. “It is Italy at its best! You will not regret it – I promise this to you!”

Lorelei hesitated to accept Mateo’s invitation and then mentally kicked herself for doing so. While she had not dated in a year, it was past time to get back on that horse. And Mateo was most definitely worthy of the endeavor. She had secretly admired him for several months, charmed by the conversations they’d shared, and she considered him to be a friend.

“Yes, I would love to accompany you, Mateo. Thank you. When and where should I meet you?”

“Please, can you meet me in front of this café at eight-thirty?”

Lorelei shook her head. “I am excited. Thank you again for asking me.”

“It is only my pleasure. I will see you later. We will have much fun,” Mateo said as he rose and gave her his most handsome smile.

After finishing the coffee, Lorelei headed to her small, rented apartment. She had worked for a year as an English tutor for several Italian families and had done so since graduating from William & Mary in 2000. She loved Italy in every conceivable aspect: the people, the art, the scenery, the music, the food, the language, and of course, the wine. It was all amazing, and she could think of no other way to live life to such a high capacity.

After showering, Lorelei surveyed her closet. Mateo had never seen her in much else but slacks, so she wanted to look her best and impress him. She chose an elegant, yet simple black dress and heels. The dress had three-quarter length sleeves and would combat the evening’s chill, although she would take her burgundy shawl with her.

A while later, she gave herself a final glance in the full-length mirror and was satisfied with her appearance. Her long hair, thick and curly, fell about her shoulders, and with the rich blonde luster, it was easy to see why she received so many whistles and stares. While blonde hair was not something out of the ordinary in the States, one saw few Italian women with it, and it was all too apparent that the Italian men liked it.

It was eight o’clock, so Lorelei hailed a taxi and headed to the café, arriving about fifteen minutes later. Despite being a little early, Mateo was waiting, as if he, too, was anxious to see her again.

If Lorelei had thought Mateo handsome before, she now knew it to be undeniably true. He was dressed in slim black pants, a charcoal grey sweater, underneath which was a crisp, white shirt, and a black sports jacket. The color choices was perfect with his dark hair and eyes. While Lorelei could easily admire the look of the man, she knew after months of conversing with him that more importantly, beneath what he wore was a kind heart, spurred onward by an intelligent mind. She could not have been more pleased to be with him tonight.

“Lorelei,” Mateo said as he greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. Stepping back, he added, “You look bellissima this night!”

Lorelei smiled, and she felt the butterflies fill her stomach with the gentle kisses he had given her. “Thank you. You, too, Mateo. You look bellissima.”

Mateo laughed. “Oh, Lorelei, would you make me a ‘she’?”

The dawning of awareness on her face, Lorelei laughed and said, “Of course, not, Mateo. I am sorry. You look bellissimo!”

“Grazie,” he laughed again. “Would you like a drink? Maybe a glass of vino? Si?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Perfetto! Un momento.”

Mateo disappeared into the café and returned moments later with two glasses of burgundy wine. “It is a Tuscan Merlot. You like this vino, no?” he asked as he handed her a glass.

“Oh, yes! My favorite,” Lorelei answered.

Before taking a sip of the lush, velvety wine, Lorelei immediately inhaled of its rich aroma of currants, black cherries, and a touch of spice. As she tasted it, its warmth was immediate, invading first her mouth and then traveling to her extremities in quick measure. It was delicious and an excellent choice of drink for this evening’s event. Lorelei smiled her thanks to Mateo, who watched her drink the wine as though he’d never seen anyone do so.

Shortly thereafter, Mateo guided Lorelei to a seat that was eight rows from the stage. Lorelei was surprised to see a full orchestra seated behind the elevated stage. It appeared that tonight was going to be a spectacular night of music.

“Do you know about the musica bel canto?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” Lorelei answered.

The look Mateo gave her in response was a very proud one, as if he himself had invented the musica bel canto of Italy.

“It is the music of old,” he began. “It is simply amazing. And…how do you say ‘difficile’? Oh, yes, it is very difficult to sing. It began here, only in Italy, many, many years ago.”

“I cannot wait to hear it,” Lorelei responded. “Thank you again, Mateo, for asking me to accompany you tonight. It is a beautiful evening for music beneath the stars.”

“Si. It is my pleasure to have you here with me,” Mateo said as his smile grew so large that both dimples proudly displayed themselves in his cheeks. Never one to disregard an opportunity, he stretched his left arm and laid it behind Lorelei’s back, lightly caressing her right shoulder with his fingers. The darkness of his brown eyes seemed to deepen.

Lorelei returned his gorgeous smile with her own and relaxed into his embrace. The evening was indeed a beautiful one – not too hot nor too cold – and she was very comfortable with this man. The Cathedral of Santa Maria was lit up in the Piazza and looked more stunningly beautiful than ever even though she saw it nearly every single day on her way to and from work. Lorelei had dreamed of such an evening with Mateo for some while now, and most certainly, one spent beneath the stars and moon while listening to beautiful, old Italian music in such a fashion and place only served to enhance the moment.

A short while later, the singers came on the stage, and Lorelei was immediately mesmerized by the beauty and harmony in their voices as they began to sing.

Ma n'atu sole

Cchiù bello, oje ne'

'O sole mio

Sta 'nfronte a te

'O Sole Mio had always been a favorite song for Lorelei, but the beautiful arrangement tonight was exceptional. The stars and moon shone brightly above as if in agreement.

The evening continued with more amazing performances of the musica bel canto, and Lorelei could scare believe the beauty of it. Her mind and heart opened as her senses were filled in ways in which she’d previously been completely unaware. At long last, the final song of the evening began, and Lorelei was hypnotized.

Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!

Tu pure, o, Principessa,

nella tua fredda stanza,

guardi le stelle che tremano

d'amore e di Speranza.

****

Nobody shall sleep!

Nobody shall sleep!

Even you, oh Princess,

in your cold room,

watch the stars,

that tremble with love and with hope.

Lorelei felt the sting of tears fall upon her cheeks. As she reached up to lightly wipe them, she glanced up through her thick lashes at Mateo. He was watching her intently, and the mist of tears also filled his brown eyes, making them nearly liquid in their brown depths. He was as moved by Puccini’s lovely words and music as she.

Unable to resist, Lorelei smiled as she rested a hand on his chest and leaned over to lightly kiss him. Mateo responded warmly, and Lorelei could not help but think his lips had been made by the Gods for just such a thing. She tasted the faint hint of the Merlot. Afterwards, Lorelei shivered and moved closer to him, leaning into his shoulder as if she had known him always. Mateo’s arm tightened its grasp and pulled her yet closer still.

The evening ended, and the two walked with interwoven hands about the Piazza until they found a secluded spot where they could sit. There was no need for words. However, after long minutes of silence, Mateo finally spoke.

“Was bellissima, no?” he asked, gazing at her.

“It was indescribably beautiful, Mateo. It was so moving that I have no words for it.”

Mateo’s smile broadened, his deep dimples creasing, as he leaned toward her and kissed her more deeply this time. Lorelei responded, feeling unknown things in his arms as she tasted deeper of the Merlot he’d drunk.

Mateo looked at her and whispered, “Tesoro mio.”

Lorelei’s brow rose, questioning the meaning of his words. “Tesoro mio?”

“Si, you are my treasure. A treasure as beautiful as the musica bel canto. I feel I have always waited for you, and now, here you are.”

Lorelei was moved in more ways than she’d ever imagined. “Mateo…” she tried to find the words.

“Si?”

“I was lost before. But now, it’s as if I’ve come home…to you and to Italy. I am complete and so happy.”

“Si, tesoro mio….si,” Mateo whispered before their lips met again, and the two knew that nothing would ever remain the same.

Without a doubt, love on this fated, wonderful evening was as beautiful and as enduring as the musica bel canto. And just as Puccini had written, the stars above the two trembled with love and hope anew.