*

“Penso che sia morta.”

“She’s not fucking dead!” yelled Jo, who dropped down next to Tara in the hay and stroked her hair. “And stop poking her! Tara baby… wake up…”

“Oh…”  she moaned.  “Turn down the light.  It’s too loud.”

“Hun, that’s the sun. We can’t really do anything about that… let’s go get you some water? Maybe some food?”

“Oh.”  She winced and put her arm over her eyes.  “Can I just die? I think it would be easier.  I don’t know if I can eat right now… at least not without ...”  She tried to sit up, and Jo helped her with a hand on Tara’s back. 

“Egidio. Help her up?” Tara felt strong arms help her to her feet.

“Oh … Ori!  We didn’t go back for Oriana.”  She said with a whimper.

“No, no we didn’t. We got fucked up. And fucked in general. But -”

“WAIT.  TELL ME I DIDN’T…”  Panic filled her voice.

“Uh, we’ll talk later. Depends on what you’re referring to, I guess.”

Tara looked around at the guys pointedly.

“Nope,” chimed in Jo.

“I need to get out of here,” said Tara, lurching towards the door quickly and pushing her way through, before.

“Tara- NO! IT’S A LOFT-” 

*

Tara had already wanted to throw up. Now, when she looked at the way her foot was twisted on its ankle, she wanted to do so even more. She tried to keep her foot in the hay, so the bumps of the pick up truck wouldn’t send pain shooting through her.

“Where’s the doctor?!” yelled Jo.

“No doctor!”

“She needs a doctor!”

“No doctor! Just sisters!”

“Jo…”

“We can’t go back to the fucking convent!”

The young man crossed himself, but he kept driving. Jo put her head in her hands.

“JO!”

“WHAT?! Sorry. What’s wrong, Tara?”

“It’s fine… the stupid ankle… I mean… ouch!”  She cried. “Okay… maybe not okay. Just, take me to the damn nuns!  Anything to make this stop!”

*

There wasn’t anyone else waiting outside the medical building as the two women got dropped off outside of it. Jo flipped Egidio the bird as he drove off, then worked to help Tara limp inside. As the two women, dresses and hair still with hay sticking out, limped inside the building, they saw Sister Monica and Oriana staring at them. 

The senior sister crossed herself.

Oriana simply mouthed, “What. The. Fuck.”

“I fell out of a hayloft.”  Tara said in a very disgruntled voice, seemingly to no one in particular. “I think I broke my ankle.”

“Why… were you in a hayloft? Nevermind. Healing first.”

“Because I wasn’t in a nunnery praying where I wanted to be.”  Tara fumed through her pain.

Sister Monica shot a look at Oriana, then they both moved to help lift Tara on the table.

Tara sighed, allowing her hand to linger on Oriana, trying to enjoy it through the haze of pain and hangover.

“We’ll need to start by applying ice… fetch the bucket, then fill it at the icebox,” said Monica. Ori walked away to follow the request.

Tara leaned back and tried to focus on something in the room so as not to be overcome with pain and embarrassment. Monica lifted the leg, checking for cuts.

“We’re not going to have to chop it off or anything are we?”  Tara tried to joke.

“The foot? No. Perhaps the tongue,” smirked Sister Monica. “Lie still.”

Tara managed to let out a little chuckle and stilled herself. 

“How did you manage to fall out of a hayloft, Ru- Tara?” As Monica asked the question, she very gently washed Tara’s leg below the knee and injured foot.

Tara sighed.  “Well, like so many good washed up students before me, I turned to wine to soften the blow to my ego.  I fell asleep in a barn because I’m poor and I don’t have a lot of options for accommodations here in beautiful Tuscany in the middle a deluge.  When I woke up, I went out the nearest door not realizing I’d passed out in the loft.”

Sister Monica nodded, as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

“I do think an important lesson was learned here, however.”  She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I am anxious to hear it.”

“New Rule: Never drink in a barn.”  Tara quipped and then she sighed clearly disappointed with herself and this turn of events.

Oriana returned, staring at Tara for a moment as she brought the bucket of ice and placed it near Tara. 

“I’ll be fine though.”  Tara made a point of saying in front of Oriana.  “It was a stupid accident and my pride more than the ankle is injured.”

Monica whispered something to Oriana, who looked like she wanted to protest, but left the room without saying a word.

“Pride goeth before a fall, as they say,” said Monica as she studied the young woman in front of her.

“And they say Nuns have no sense of humor.”  She smirked. “I wish I had gotten to work with you before I opened my big mouth to the Priest about my sorided life.  You seem like a good egg.”

“We are working together now, at least, in healing you.” As she spoke, Monica helped lower Tara’s foot into the freezing pail of ice.

“BY BOB’S HAIRY NUTSACK OUCH!”

Monica just stared at the young woman. 

“I’m sorry.”  Tara eked out, blushing red. “Bob is a moose.”  She said quickly. “I swear he’s a moose, my family’s pet… sorta.  It’s like a giant cow with big horns.”

“Are you close with your family?” Monica asked Tara, seemingly trying to divert her attention from the ice. As Tara responded, Monica began putting together the splint.

“Oh yeah… seal of confession.  You have no idea why I’m not here anymore.”  She sighed slowly getting her wits about her again.  “I just buried my parents. I was very close with them.  Buried two of my sisters too. The rest of them are alive and waiting for me to get home and back to work so I can take care of them.  I love them dearly..”

“You take care of them?”

She nodded, “I do.  I take care of all the people I love.  It’s what you do when you love someone.”

“You… take care of my daughter?” Monica’s eyes studied Tara with an intensity.

Tara hesitated and then nodded, “Yeah.  Always. I do anything for her.”

“Good.” Monica exhaled. “Good.” She paused. “Is she happy?”

Tara sighed.  “We’re working on that.  It’s why I brought her here.  When our friend heard about you, I knew she had to know something of where she came from.  There’s been… a lot of challenges in her life. But a lot of good too. And sometimes when a person has seen a lot of bad they … they color the world with it.  They just… need someone to help them see the forest for the trees again.”

“What sort of bad?”

“Broken trust.  Misplaced love. Loss of people she cared about.”

“She did not tell me those things. Did not want me to worry, I assume.”

“No.  It’s that she can’t talk about them.  She doesn’t like to seem weak. She’s very competitive and likes to be seen as strong.  Always. It takes courage for her to let her guard down. Time. She has to work for me to be let in.  That broken trust thing… it’s a healing process.”

Voices approached the medical building from the convent. Monica looked at Tara intently. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Tara put a hand on Monica’s.  “Forever.” Tara vowed. Then the door opened and the Abbess walked in.

“52 hours,” said the Abbess with a raised eyebrow. “Fifty two. To join, impress, dramatically reveal one’s secrets, dramatically reveal one’s secrets again to a less prudent recipient, get expelled, get intoxicated, fall out of a barn, and then return to us for healing services. Now that is quite the two and half days you’ve had, Tara Mastrosimone. Should I be fearing for an encore?”

The Abbess crossed her arms.

Tara wet her lips, “My mother could have done it in half that.”  She lifted her chin slightly.  

“Well, at least you have something to work on. Leave us,” she said to Monica and Oriana. “Go to the dormitory and talk.”

Tara watched them go and then looked to the Abbess.

“I must admit I’m disappointed. I thought you’d fit in well here.” She sighed, then moved to sit near the young woman.

“I would have.” Tara said with a bit of pride in her tone.  “I could have been a great Nun, but… it’s not meant to be. God has a great sense of humor and he has other things in mind for me.”

“Whatever you do… I do not believe you are an evil woman.” The Abbess looked up at Tara. “You have a choice of how to live your life. Even if you were only here for a day or two… I hope you take something from this place with you on your journey.”

“I think… I think you’re like my Aunt Tara.  I never met her. I’m named for her. I suppose the next time she wanders into my dreams,”  Tara sighed. “She’ll sound like you. Smart. Tough. And… unfortunately without a Byrne.” She smirked.

“Well, I’m sure that’s a compliment to both of us.” She paused. “I don’t wish you ill, young lady. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yeah, but I figure you’re unnerved by the Priest sending me away like he did.  I’m sorry that the Seal of Confession has prevented you from knowing why - at least a little.  On the other hand, maybe I’m glad you don’t look at me the way he did before he sent me away.”

“I’m not, actually. I suspect you told Father Crea some version of what you told me?”

“A version.”  She admitted. “I told you more though, truth be told.  I just made him a list.” She shrugged.

“Father Crea....” began Abbess Teresa carefully, “is not God. He is a good man.” Tara started to interrupt. “I know I don’t need to do anything, young lady,” continued the Abbes. “He is a good priest, and he has my respect. But I would not want to see you lose sight of God.” 

“I can’t do what he asked me to do.”  She said softly. “I… won’t. A part of me wants to talk to another Priest.  Get a second opinion.” She laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “But, I don’t know that I will.  It doesn’t change how God sees me or how I see God, but maybe religion? I don’t know. I told you that when I came here I could feel something … changing.  Moving.” She looked at her ankle. “Pride goeth before a fall.”

The Abbess nodded slowly, sadly, as she stood to exit.  “God be with you, Tara Mastrosimone. I pray that you do not lose sight of him. One final question for you, and then I’ll leave you to your physical recovery. Three of you were… well, imposters. Is Mary one of you? Or a legitimate applicant?”

Tara looked down and sighed.  “You heard me talking to her, do you really think that was an act?”  She looked up to the Abbess. “I am a lot of things, but I am not an imposter.  I told you who I was. I told you only truth. Mary is going to be a good Clarian.  I wish that I could have known her better.”

“I believe it’s possible. I spoke to your blonde friend for half an hour before I got even a hint of deceit from her. And imposter is perhaps harsh, but accurate in the sense of committing to a lifelong vow- at least in the case of your two friends.”

Tara sighed, “You may not believe it, but of those two women, I think it’s quiet possible they would have gone through with their word if it meant helping Oriana.  I know I would have. Without a doubt, but I think you know that my motives were always different than theirs. I had something personal in coming here too. I just… didn’t realize it was unresolved and that it was less about hiding from who I was and more about trying to be the sort of person I saw myself as becoming.”

“And is it resolved now?”

“Does it matter?  I won’t absolve myself the way the Priest wants, which means I can’t come back.  Should I spend my life regretting that I can’t or should I attempt to be good and follow God’s path in any case?”  She shook her head. “A wise man told me once we get to pick one, maybe two things in this life if we’re lucky. The priest made the choice easy.  I should thank him.”

The Abbess rested a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “God go with you, Tara Mastrosimone.” 

“God Bless you Sister Teresa, for all you’ve done for me… and them.”  She did not say who they were, but knew the other woman understood.

Then the Abbess bowed her head and left the room. For half an hour, Tara lay by herself, the pain in her foot numbed by the ice, as she cycled it in and out to avoid frostbite.

Jo returned first, coming back in from the front door. “Found us a car. Is Ori... mad?”

Tara exhaled and smiled, “Generally speaking, the answer to that question is yes, but in all the best ways.”

“Speaking of best ways,” said Jo with a wicked grin. “Are we going to talk about last night?”

Tara smiled wickedly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I was very drunk.” She chuckled lightly. Jo smiled. Tara reached out and took her hand and gave it a squeeze.  

“The sooner we can get out of here, the better, but Ori sets the pace.  Where is she?”

“I dunno. I thought she was with you. I was getting a car in the village.”

She shook her head, “She went to go talk with one of the Sisters.  I thought maybe you’d run into her out there somewhere.

Just then, the door opened to the convent and Sister Monica and Oriana walked in. Ori was wearing a simple white dress that barely reached her knee.

“Well, goodbye then,” said Ori, standing at the older woman.

Tara stared openly at Oriana for a moment.

Sister Monica nodded politely and made the sign of the cross over her daughter but when she was done, she stepped forward and hugged Oriana. Ori stood still for a moment, but she eventually returned the hug and patted Sister Monica on the back.

Tara smiled and once again felt the presence of her father watching over her.  She drew a deep steadying breath.

“Sister Monica?”  Tara asked after she’d let Oriana go.  “I forgot to ask the Abbess whether or not your order accepted donations to help provide alms to the poor and the like.  I know you’ve recently branched out to the United States. I should like to send a letter from time to time, with a gift perhaps.  If that would be okay?”

Sister Monica nodded, unable or unwilling to speak.  

“Well, you’ll hear from us again then.  I’m sure.” Tara reached out her hand to Oriana and Tara limped out to the car with Ori supporting her and Jo carrying her bucket of ice and the splint. Ori helped Tara lie down in the backseat. Jo jumped behind the wheel, while Ori stayed in back with Tara.

As the car pulled away, Tara enjoyed a single moment of her head resting on Ori’s thighs before a pair of upside down grey eyes appeared over her face.

“Tara… what did you do?

*

Two days later, Tara was lying on a couch in the Sewing Factory Lofts with her foot propped up when she heard a knock at the door.

Tara sighed.  If her brother had sent her any more flowers she was going to ring his neck.  Jack had a sense of humor, she thought to herself as she got up and passed three bouquets, but there was a line and now he was starting to cross it.

“Coming!”  She called out as she made her way slowly towards the door expecting another delivery person to have made her get up and hobble across her rather cavernous apartment.  She peeked through the peephole with a hand on her gun which she kept near the door.

Outside, she saw Ori standing with her hands behind her back.

Smiling brightly she unlocked and opened the door.  

As Tara opened the door, Ori removed the bouquet of flowers from behind her back and handed it to Tara. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

“Oh they’re lovely!”  She said taking them and stepping aside for Oriana to come in.  “I’ll have to figure out what to put them in. I’m afraid the only two things that vaguely resemble a vase I have Jack’s flowers in.  The third bouquet I didn’t even bother to try to salvage.”

“Oh. Sorry, should have asked.”

“Not at all!  I mean honestly, who expects anyone would send me flowers at all and also who thinks of someone starting out not owning a vase.  My mom had dozens and we lived in the middle of nowhere for my whole life. I never once thought about a vase as being a needed item to buy.”  Digging around in her kitchen Tara found a glass pitcher which was used to keep tea in and instead filled it with water and put Oriana’s flowers into it.  “It’s just forcing me to be creative. One day, when I have hundreds of vases, we’ll laugh about this.”

“Go sit down, put your feet up.” Ori walked into the apartment and shrugged off her coat. She was wearing a yellow dress that matched her hair and black tights.

Tara hobbled back to the place she’d made herself up on the couch.  “I was just starting a new book. Figured the foot was a great excuse to rectify a problem I’d mentioned in Tuscany.”  She smiled. “How have you been? Keeping busy since we got back?” Her eyes devoured the sight of Ori in the yellow dress.

“Yea. I wanted to talk to you about that.” She sat in the chair across from Tara and crossed her legs. “I took a job. Got paid 250K up front, 250K more plus a bonus if I get it done within a couple weeks. Out in… Ohio. So I’ll be gone for a little while.” She frowned. “But we need the money.”

“Ori, that’s great news.  I mean, not the you being gone to freaking Ohio part, but the getting the job part isn’t so bad.  I mean, it’s good. Really good. I just feel bad that I’m all laid up like this - I should be helping you.”

“You’ve got stuff to do here. Get organized. Put together all the plans for Liber- then when I’m back we’ll work on funding.”

Tara stared at Oriana and a smirk grew on her face.

“...what?” asked Oriana, suddenly self-conscious. Had she said something wrong?

“I remembered something I dreamed about in Tuscany, that’s all.  It was a good dream, for the most part.” She let her eyes roll over Oriana.  “You were in it… multiple times.”

Oriana leaned back, smiling with her hands on her lap. “I’m sure I was, Hayloft.” 

She nodded, “Bacchus was there too though I blame Jo for that and I wish you’d give up on that nickname already… I mean, how long are we going to revisit what was clearly not one of my brightest moments.”

“Tara the Turtledove? Trying to fly?”

Tara narrowed her eyes, “One day you’re going to do something you’re not proud of, and I’m going to never let you forget it either.  You’re lucky I like you.”

Ori smiled. “I am. There were a couple things I wanted to talk to you about before I left, though.”

“So long as they don’t involve the following words I’m okay with it:  Tuscan Wine, Orgy, Hayloft or Broken Foot.”

“Wait, orgy?”

“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that stupid barn anymore… let’s keep going with what you had to share.”  She smirked crossing her arms over her chest glad to have poked back at Ori a little.

Ori blinked. Had Tara…? “Can we just clarify if that was dream Tara or drunk reality Tara?”

“I think that I was too drunk to have been a participant in so interesting as an Tuscan barn orgy, don’t you?  I walked out of a damn hayloft...”

“I mean, the next morning.” Still, Ori looked a little intrigued. “I feel weird talking about what I was going to talk about now.”

Tara shook her head, “No orgy.  Though I’m certain I woke in the middle of the night to see Jo enjoying the company of my rather handsome dance partner.  I’d shooed him off when he decided he wanted a kiss before I passed out. Told him that Jo would kiss him all he liked for me… guess I nailed that one on the head.”

“You’re not helping with the whole distraction thing, just for the record,” said Ori, bouncing one leg as it rested on her other.

“Oh it’s fine.  I mean, it’s not like I joined them even after she noticed me watching.  I totally denied I remembered anything at all.”

“Tara. You’re horrible…” Ori smirked.

“Point of fact, I do remember it.  All of it. It was… amazing.” She giggled.

“Okay,” Ori resolved. “Do you think if I took you to your room we could find a way to keep your leg elevated?”

“I don’t know, you see I got this foot injury.  Stupid hayloft. I mean every time you mention it I think of either searing pain in my ankle or the look of Jo’s long hair hanging down that bare back in the moonlight as she went for an evening ride and I just never know which memory is going to come to the surface whenever you say the word:  hayloft.”

Moving gently, so as not to disturb her, Ori straddled Tara and kissed her.

“Tara… shut up… Hayloft...”

Tara giggled.  “Oh damn, my eyes…”  She grabbed hold of Oriana and kissed her back.

*

Never having made it to the bedroom, Ori slipped her dress back on, but left the tights off as she rested her head on Tara’s lap.

“You look good in yellow.”  Tara remarked casually, feeling a lot more relaxed.  She stretched out and yawned lazily. “I’m sorry I got so distracted.  I’ll try harder to focus this time. I think you were saying you wanted to talk about something?”

“So…” Ori sighed. “My mom… Nicolleta. She asked me not to contact her for a while. Maybe never. She said for the first time, she wanted to leave the cloister… so I’m trying to respect her request, give her the time to make sure decision.

Tara nodded, understanding she probably caused more than a little chaos at the convent with all the shit she’d rather unintentionally stirred up.  “I think that’s very kind of you. Hard I’m sure, but certainly kind. You know I didn’t want to push you to talk about her or anything… but I am curious.  If you do want to talk, I’d love to listen.”  

“There’s not much to talk about. Short story. She was a good looking young woman, her parents died, she went to the city, got knocked up, left the baby in an orphanage, then joined the convent.” Ori paused. “... the story is slightly longer when you factor in what she told me about my father.”

“Wait, she told you about your father?”  Tara blinked, never having expected that the nun would know or be willing to speak of the man who had fathered her baby.  “Ori… that’s I mean.” She closed her mouth and listened.

“Yea,” said Ori after a long pause. “Apparently he’s some sort of killer. A criminal. In jail. When I was born, Nicolletta was so worried he would track me down that she decided I’d be safer in an orphanage with no parents. He’s French/Irish.” She paused again. “Told me his name. Francis Crawford. Not really sure what to do about all that, really.” Ori shifted, repositioning her head on Tara’s lap.

“Maybe nothing.”  Tara ran her fingers through Ori’s hair.  “I wanted to tell you so many things at the convent.  I thought a lot about myself, but just as much about you and your life.  Even if we hadn’t found your mother, I felt like I needed to tell you that - well, I haven’t wanted to say anything about your past.  I know how much hurt is there and sadness…” Ori opened her mouth to start to protest, but closed it immediately as Tara continued “... and I don’t feel I have any right to speak about it.  I mean, I love you, but I know how easily I might say something that could hurt you and that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

Tara sighed, “But at the risk of fucking up, I think you had more of a family than it appears at first glance.  I hear how you speak about the sister who taught you to sing. There’s love there, real love and that woman cared for you as a mother does - even if she wasn’t really your mother.  It’s more than blood, right? I mean, that’s what my mother always wrote in her journal about her parents and they always told Brigitte. I think it’s true. And you do have sisters.  More sisters than most ever have and yes, maybe some of those stories ended with sadness, but you all shared joy from time to time. You can choose to see it was … odd moments of joy but you were happy and there’s no shame in being happy, especially given the circumstances.  Your family didn’t like mine, but you had love and I know that’s true because you are capable of giving it. You love me and you learned that somewhere.” Tara leaned down and kissed Ori’s head.

“Whether you seek out your father or not, whether you and Sister Monica ever speak again or not, I want you to know that you’re never again without family.  You have a family. Forever. I promised Monica that. Forever.” Tara rubbed her thumb down the side of Ori’s cheek, looking down upon her with love.

Ori turned on her side, resting her cheek on Tara’s thigh. “You’re such a sap sometimes…” But Tara could hear the smile in her voice.

“I have to lay it on thick, my girl likes that from time to time.”

“Uh huh. Which girl is that? Must be thinking of one of your other ones. I’m subtle, you know.”

“You are.”  Tara said softly.  “You’re strong. Fast.  Subtle. You could pass through a forest like a breeze in the trees but woe anything that tried to stop you or hurt you.  Such beauty. Fierce though, more than anyone looking at you would expect. The unwary hunter could killed by such a creature if he let his … or her… guard down.  I think I’m beginning to see you, Oriana Montini. Really see you, now.”

“Such a sap.”

Tara chuckled, “I can’t wait for Christmas. It’s going to be wonderful this year.  Once I get this foot all healed up I’ve got so much to do.”

Ori remained with her head in Tara’s lap like a cat, even as she turned on her back again.

“For Liber?”

“That, too.”  She admitted. “But I have a house full of kids in Michigan, some of whom have never known a proper Christmas.  One of whom it’s her first Christmas. And for all of them save two it’s their first big holy day without their parents.”  

Tara sighed.

“My father and mother took the holiday very seriously.  I can’t let them down this year - especially this year. So, I’ll be hustling fast when I’m up and about.  Liber can be pushed back a month or two. Right now I want to make sure that their holiday, and our first one together, is special.  It’s important to me.”

“Okay. Well let’s start out by making sure we’re not broke. One thing at a time.” Ori lifted herself off Tara’s lap, although it seemed like she didn’t want to. She remained seated on the couch for a moment as Tara traced her finger down Ori’s spine.

“A great starting point.”  She chuckled. “I love how you think, but I want a solemn vow… you and me, back in this exact spot in that exact position on Christmas Eve, okay?”

Ori grinned. “Nah. We’ll celebrate in your club.”

“You’re ambitious to think we’ll have things running by then - though I should like to wear a custom Santa suit for you and our patrons and worshippers.”  She giggled at the thought.

Ori smirked as she slid off the couch and stepped into her tights.

“Well, get started on the paperwork, then. Line everything up so we only need the money- and then when I’m back we’ll find the money.”

“You’re too good to me.”  She winked at Ori, watching her pull on her tights and after a moment she nodded seeming to come to some decision.  “You’re my thing.” she laughed at how dumb that sounded when said out loud.  

“Without doubt.” Tara continued,  “You are the one thing in this life I can not fuck up, I hope you know that.  Everything I do, it’s not for the money or the status, it’s about us. Just so we’re clear on my priorities here.”

“I’m a thing now, huh?” smirked Ori. “Just something to be used, Hayloft? Don’t tempt me.”

“Our relationship.  It’s a thing. You… you’re more like… well, I’ll save that for Christmas.”  She winked at Ori again resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Dunno. Killing some biker guy for another biker guy. Could be tough to track down. Three days if everything goes perfectly. Two weeks at most. If it’s longer than that and you don’t hear from me for a couple days in a row… well, either send someone to look for me or starting making new Christmas plans.” Ori winked. “But I don’t make a habit of failing very often.”

“I will not make new Christmas plans so you can’t fail.  I refuse to accept anything but your success and inevitable return.”

“Yea yea, I know. Just saying.”

“I love you too.”  She said softly, “And for the record,”  She paused considering what she was about to say for a moment.  “You didn’t say it to me for the first time in that bathroom. I know… you thought you did, but I should have told you sooner.  The first time you said it to me was in Iceland.”

Ori froze as she was putting on one of her shoes. “When?”

“You were dozing off in that hot spring.  You had the most blissful look on your face.  Absolute contentment and peace. It’s as beautiful as you have ever been and I don’t think I could ever forget it, even if I tried.  It was a perfect moment.”

“That’s… really good. That makes me happy, like I didn’t do things in such a fucked up way.”

“Even when you fuck up… it’s our way and that makes it good.  I mean, look at how we’ve done everything else so far. Would you really trade any of it for something boring and normal?”  She smiled. “I mean, sure, some of it is sad and kinda… messed up, but it’s ours. I love everything about us. Especially the fucked up parts.”

Tara laughed and added, “I know… sappy..”

Ori leaned forward and kissed Tara goodbye. “It’s okay. See you soon, I hope. I’ll call.”

“You better.  I know too many people I could hire to hunt your ass down if you don’t.”  She smirked. “See you soon.”

Ori walked out the door, feeling a strange mix of happiness from Tara, sadness from leaving her, and excitement to be on the hunt. 

As she walked down the street, she thought of her mother walking down the streets of Venice, deciding it would be better for her child to be an orphan than to know Francis Crawford. Ori took a deep breath. A question for another day. Now, it was time to hop a plane to Cleveland- a place that, hopefully, would be easier to handle than Italy.