“Looking for the right one you line up the world to find, where no questions cross your mind. But she won’t keep on waiting for you without a doubt, much longer for you to sort it out…”


There was a feeling of emptiness inside Marie as she packed up her things and prepared for the flight to California. She felt like she was leaving a part of herself in Montreal. She didn’t exactly know why or how, but in the days she’d known him, Marco had become instrumental in her life.

Marie had tried to explain it to Jess, admitting that Marco was a little different than the other guys she had been with. But no matter how hard she tried to word it, it just didn’t seem to make sense. It felt strange trying to explain the ways he had worked his way into her life. At the very least, Marie would miss him; miss the feeling of him and the taste of him.

And the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced of certain things. What was in California that she hadn’t seen or experienced before? They’d stay with Jess’ parents and frequent the beaches and strip malls. But that wasn’t anything special. She could go to the beach anytime, or go shopping anytime.

So while Jess was on an airplane back to her hometown, Marie found herself lifting her hand to a giant wooden door, clutching onto the brass knocker and struck it a few times. She took a step back and looked down at herself, hoping her outfit was appropriate enough. She had opted for conservative ballet flats and a white sundress, accented with yellow flowers, which reached just below her knees.

It would have to be enough because there was no turning back now. The wooden door opened, and an older man stood behind it, staring at her inquisitively.

“Um, hi… I… Is Marco here?” she stammered, nervously playing with the fabric of her dress. Internally, she cursed herself; normally she wasn’t this anxious.

The man smiled and turned his head to the side, “Marco!” He paused and nodded his head to Marie quickly, “c’è qualcuno qui per verderla!” There is someone here to see you.

Marie took a deep breath in as she could hear footsteps from further inside the house. She waited awkwardly in front of the man, smiling wider as Marco appeared beside him.

“Marie,” he murmured quietly. Satisfied, the older man left Marco’s side. “I thought you had a flight,”

“I did. But… I’ve been to California before and I wanted to see you. You said your family was having a get together and you’d like it if I joined. So here I am,”

Marco nodded and pulled the door open wider, inviting her in. Marie swallowed, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer. She stepped inside and slipped off her shoes as she noticed a gathering of them by the front door. For now they were alone in the foyer of the house, and Marie caught Marco staring at her when she glanced up at him. She knew she was blushing, and it only took Marco a moment to lean in and kiss her lips slowly.

He set his hand down on her lower back, leading her further into the house where the TV was turned on, spurting out information about world events, while two other people talked to each other. Marie took a nervous breath in, and Marco responded by curling his fingers against her back, trying to calm her down. In the living room, Marie spotted the man who had initially opened the door, with a woman beside him.

“Mum, dad, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Marie Thatcher.” He paused and smiled as his parents approached. “Marie… my mum, Sandra. And my dad, Francesco.”

Marie smiled, but was unsure of whether to shake their hands or hug them. But all was made much easier when Marco’s mother pulled her in for a tight hug. And then his dad embraced her, kissing her cheek softly.

“How do you know Marco?” Francesco asked, walking back to sit in the leather chair in the living room.

Marie looked back at Marco as he urged her forward and guided her to the couch. “I saw him around town a few times. I’m here on vacation,” she smiled, sitting beside him on the sectional.

Marco placed his arm on the back on the couch around Marie’s shoulders, “she goes to Boston University.”

“Wow, very nice,” Francesco beamed. “You must be very intelligent.”

As Marie blushed and tried to act modest, Sandra spoke up, “will you stay for lunch and church this evening?”

It took her by surprise that she was being invited to church, but after looking at Marco to gauge his reaction, Marie nodded her head eagerly.

Her answer delighted his parents, and after his mom left the room to finish up the meal, Marco took her hand and led her out of the room as well, ushering her back onto the front porch. A porch swing danced in the light breeze, and Marie nodded her head to it, giggling as she moved towards it to sit down. Marco joined her soon after and she curled into his side, clutching her arms around his bicep.

“I didn’t know I’d be invited to church. Is this you trying to absolve me of my sins and make me a lady?” She pressed her lips against his shoulder as he sunk in fingers in between her thighs.

Marco shook his head and smirked, “your sinful side is my favorite side.”

“Then you want to do the dirty in your childhood home?”

He pursed his lips as if he was actually considering it, but then he leaned over and pressed his lips against the side of her head. “Did you end up meeting any other guys on your last few days with Jess?”

Marie turned to set her cheek down on his shoulder, and shook her head slightly. “I’m still kind of scared. I never actually thought I’d be in that position. I didn’t think a guy could be so… disrespectful.”

Marco squeezed her leg gently, “are you afraid of me?”

She shook her head once, “you haven’t given me a reason to be afraid of you.”

---

The outing on the porch didn’t even last an hour before Marco’s mom was calling them back in for lunch. She had prepared pasta fagioli accompanied with a salad and homemade garlic bread. Marie would have considered it a dinner, but because of the early hour, Marco’s family considered it lunch.

They chatted easily throughout the meal, and not once did Marie feel like Marco’s parents were interrogating her. They spoke with her as though she was an old family friend, and it was something she could appreciate. There were plenty of reasons to feel awkward and out of place, but they made sure to make the transition as easy as possible.

While it may have been weird that she had seen their son naked, on several accounts, Marie was sure that was just all in her own head. Chances were, his parents weren’t even thinking about that. It wasn’t on their radar of things their son would do with a girl he barely knew.

After lunch ended in the early evening they all walked to the church Marco had attended growing up, and they took the same route too. With his parents walking briskly in front of them, Marie and Marco fell back, going at a more leisurely pace.

“I’ve never been to church… only for weddings and funerals,” Marie mentioned offhand, hoping that wouldn’t completely ruin the trip for the rest of them.

Marco smiled and reached for the sleeves of his button-down shirt. He rolled them up his forearms, just below his elbow. “You’ll be fine. It’s a lot of listening, some reading and singing.”

“I just don’t want to make an ass out of myself in front of your parents.”

“Would I let you make an ass out of yourself?” He beamed playfully.

Marie stuck her tongue out at him and giddily reached for his hand, clutching it beside her, “tell me a story about baby Marco.”

He chuckled softly, “I wasn’t that interesting. I was small and shy. Then I became tall and shy up until recently. And then I became tall and outgoing. You got a new and improved version of me,”

“Oh I’m so lucky,”

Marco looked down at her and squeezed her hand gently, taking a deep breath in, “baby Marco got bullied a lot on and off the ice.”

Marie flicked her eyes up to his. She couldn’t imagine a time when anyone would dare to pick on Marco. But she assumed that in his younger days, when he wasn’t so big and intimidating, he was an easy target.

He returned her glance with a shrug and leaned over to kiss the side of her head, leading her up the steps of the church. As she looked around, the bells and stained glass windows were starting to make her nervous; not to mention the statues of various saints and disciples staring down at the churchgoers. Slowly, Marie unwrapped her arm from around Marco’s bicep as they entered the church. Somehow, it felt wrong to be clutched onto him in a place that was deemed to be sacred.

But still sensing her level of discomfort, Marco reached for her hand and led her down the aisle and into one row of pews. She felt at ease with him guiding her through this experience, and even as they sat, Marco kept his hand wrapped around hers.

“Relax,” he cooed, beaming down at her, getting some enjoyment out of her awkwardness.

“Last time you told me to relax, you were doing things to me your church would disagree with,” she whispered, looking around nervously.

The pews around them were starting to fill up with people from the neighborhood. With each new person in attendance, Marie felt her heart beat a little faster. And then she felt something that almost made her heart stop. Looking down, Marco had set his hand in her lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth along her skin, trying to soothe her nerves. When Marie looked over at his parents, they were looking at the two of them, watching their son’s interaction with a girl he barely knew. But Marco didn’t seem to care that his parents were watching as he whispered calming encouragements to her.

The priest stepped forward, and everyone looked up at him, listening to his opening comments. Today’s sermon began with him speaking about how everyone should learn to be helpful to others; regardless of whether they were rude, mean, or inconsiderate, find out how to be helpful and how to love them. He obviously backed this up with examples from biblical stories, and then had everyone pull out the hymnbooks, flipping through the pages to read different passages.

Marco followed along dutifully, repeating words and reading when it was required. But instead of absorbing everything to its fullest extent, Marie kept her eyes on Marco, smiling as he contributed to the service in his own quiet way.

With the sermon continuing on, Marie pulled her hand away from Marco’s and set it over the open hymnbook, blocking the words from his view. He smiled playfully and wrapped his arm around her back, resting it along the back of the pew, allowing her the chance to lean into him. Marie was sure people were staring at them, noticing the way Marco was publicly being affectionate with her.

“If you’d all turn to 1 Corinthians 13, and follow along…” The priest spoke up, looking out at the pews.

Marco looked down at the bible in his lap and watched as Marie struggled to find the page as she flipped though the book. He giggled and helped her out some, smoothing out the page once she had located the verse, and only a second later, the priest began reciting.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves…”

With the priest reciting the passage, Marie felt Marco’s fingers stroking against her arm softly. And when she glanced over at him, he was doing as the priest had asked, and was following along with the words as they were being read. She smiled subtly and took a deep breath in through her nose, enjoying the smell of Marco’s cologne and leaned closer to him, resting her head back against his shoulder.

---

After the service, Marco’s parents approached the priest, who was happy to see both of them, eager to catch up. They were engrossed in their conversation as Marco and Marie approached, still holding hands.

“Ah Marco! How nice it is to see you at my sermons again,” the priest exclaimed and flicked his eyes to Marie. “I see you’ve brought a young woman along,”

“Yes Father; this is Marie Thatcher,”

The priest nodded pleasantly to her, “yes I saw you two in the pews.”

Marie felt her cheeks get hotter, and her hand subconsciously gripped Marco’s tighter. He grinned sheepishly but didn’t say anything in return.

“I hope you’ll join us again soon. Be good, my son,” the priest smiled.

Marco shook his hand and hugged his parents quickly before he led Marie out of the church and back outside. It was already dark and growing colder. She stuck closer to him as they meandered down the pathways, leaving the church grounds, walking in no particular direction.

“Did you know he’d be talking about that tonight? Is that why you wanted me to join you?” Marie asked inquisitively, searching Marco’s eyes for an answer.

“Did I know he’d be talking about love?” Once he was convinced that that’s what Marie had been asking, he shook his head. “I hope that didn’t freak you out, that was just a weird coincidence. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re a lovely person, but I… don’t love you.” He paused and shook his head again, rattled. “That came out wrong. I mean, there could be a possibility of love, just right now it’s too complicated… we’re at different places…”

“I get it,” she interrupted, easing his nerves. “Trust me, I would’ve been more freaked out of you had said you loved me.” She smiled at a family as they passed by, and then looked down at her feet, “what do you think your parents think about me?”

Marco smiled and nudged into her playfully, “already searching for their approval?” He searched her face for an answer, but she just shot him an annoyed glance. “You already know my dad thinks you’re super smart, and I’m sure my mom likes you. I mean she told you the family garlic bread recipe. She wouldn’t tell just anyone that,”

Notes

"All At Once" by The Fray.