Free A Summer In Europe by Marilyn Brant Page B

comatose, into bed.
    But she was awake now.
    For the first time in at least five years, Gwen skipped her morning stretches without good reason. She slid out of bed and got dressed, glancing around the room for Aunt Bea. She didn’t see her aunt, but a note had been left for her, taped to the bathroom mirror with a Band-Aid:
     
Off to breakfast! Heard you were in the BAR having FUN last night!! Don’t be late for the bus or you’ll disappoint our tour guide—ha!
 
xo,
 
B.
     
    Oh, no.
    By the time she got down to the breakfast room, her aunt had already left—probably off gossiping about her somewhere in the hotel before the morning’s excursion to Pompeii. She didn’t see Hans-Joseph there either, but she knew where she would see him. Checking her watch (7:23 already), she downed half a glass of juice and a small pastry—no time for oatmeal—and grabbed a banana to go. Just twenty-four hours of being with her aunt in Rome, and Gwen was starting to turn into her. A disconcerting trend.
    She hopped onto the bus and spied her aunt waving to her, just moments before Guido was due to depart for the two-hour ride.
    “Good morning, Gwen,” Hans-Josef said from the first seat, his welcome cordial if somewhat reserved. He eyed her with careful courtesy.
    “Good morning,” she murmured back. Then she nodded at Guido, sitting in the driver’s seat and ... Was he smiling at her?
    Yes, he was. His grin broadened and he said a hearty, “Buongiorno.”
    “I, um, buongiorno, ” she managed. Now she knew her aunt had been gossiping about her. She hastened to her seat.
    The bus had barely pulled away from the hotel when Aunt Bea began her inquisition in hushed, excited tones. “Hester said she saw you in the bar with Hans-Josef last night! Good girl!” She all but rubbed her hands together in glee. “What did you two do?”
    Gwen didn’t remember seeing Hester last night, but being a part of this tour was much like living in a small town. Eyes were always watching. “We just had a couple of drinks and talked a little, that’s all,” she told her aunt. But when Gwen glanced around the bus and spotted Hester, the old woman gave her two thumbs up and a huge smile.
    “What did you talk about?”
    “Oh, just stuff about his life as a tour guide. He told me about his pet, er, Rolf. We were there for less than an hour, so ...” Gwen let this thought trail off, hoping her aunt would drop the subject. But that wasn’t Aunt Bea’s way.
    Beatrice lowered her voice and said, “So, you went somewhere else then? Did he walk you up to the room after that? Kiss you good night?”
    Gwen sighed. “No. Neither. I just came upstairs by myself and went to bed.”
    “Oh.” Disappointment etched a frown on Aunt Bea’s face. “Well, never mind. There’s always tonight. Or tomorrow.”
    Aunt Bea was clearly incapable of remembering Gwen’s attachment to Richard, but Gwen remembered it. She was, in fact, surprised and moderately concerned that she hadn’t heard from him. She’d sent him an e-mail from the Hotel Adriatica’s lobby the afternoon they’d arrived, just to let him know they’d gotten to Rome safely. Though she’d checked several times since then, he still hadn’t e-mailed her back.
    Before Gwen could protest or remind her aunt for the umpteenth time that she had a boyfriend already, Davis decided to join their conversation. He leaned forward from his seat behind them. Sudoku workbook and pen in hand and eyes glittering with unusually good humor, he said, “Stop trying to fight it, Gwen. Don’t you know that you’ll have to fall in love with someone on this trip? It’s what young people are supposed to do. With drama like that going on, it makes us old folks feel like we’re watching good cable. Don’t wreck it.”
    Dr. Louie, who was Davis’s seatmate for the bus ride, laughed into his fist. “Yeah,” he boomed. The man was seemingly unable to whisper. “Doesn’t matter if you’re dating someone