Eadie folded closed the letter she had just read. The crease lines in the beautiful mulberry paper were sharp and perfect. She studied the raw edges of the hand-crafted paper. It was beautiful, exquisite paper, very similar to the paper she used to write letters to her friends when she wanted them to remember her words. Usually, words of appreciation or gratitude.
Never words like the ones she had just read.
I write this letter with great apprehension and compassion, for what I am about to tell you will alter the course of both of our lives, if you allow.
The writer’s name was Camille. Eadie had always admired that name. It was soft, and elegant, like a perfect dew drop falling from a leaf. But there was nothing soft in Camille’s message. Eadie’s world stopped in time. Suspended. She looked at the words over and over again but could not digest the meaning.
I do not mean to disturb you, or disrupt your life, but I have important news to share with you, and I think you have a right to know.
Eadie was nervously tapping the leather of the back seat, as her car made its way up the majestic clifftop to Palazzo Avino. The road was narrow and winding. Barely able to accommodate a single car heading in one direction, much less than 2 cars heading in opposite directions. The drive wasn’t for the faint hearted.
Eadie had flown from Paris to Naples, and she booked the same driver she had used in that area, for almost 12 years now. She was comfortable with Marco. There was familiarity, but also privacy. He never extended the conversation beyond the professional boundaries. He respected her space and lack of conversation, which gave Eadie time to contemplate and mentally prepare for her meeting with Camille.
Eadie stirred from her peaceful sleep, the sunlight caressing her eyelids and lips. The warmth of the morning sun stirred her senses. Eadie had slept so soundly. One of those sleeps where there is no disturbance, just peace and recharge. They were few and far between for Eadie, but she relished the feeling and tried to cling to it tightly.
She had deliberately left the curtains drawn open the night before. She wanted to be greeted by the magic pantones of aqua, turquoise, and rich, deep blue as the sun rose and touched light on the ocean before her. Her eyes were still syncing with the rising sun, and she rubbed them gently. She was seduced by the intoxicating Amalfi sunrise. It felt like a magic tonic that eased her into a state of calmness and longing.
As she became lucid, Eadie remembered why she was here, and suddenly her stomach churned. Today she would meet Camille. She wondered if Camille was as nervous as she was now feeling.