Marina/Esther – “Dare” pt. 7

…

Disclaimer #1: This is fan fiction. Terapia d’urgenza belongs to Rai2. No copyright infringement is intended by borrowing its characters for a little while. No monetary gain whatsoever is being made. All I’m trying is to spread the love for velvet jackets, sort through the cliffhanger debris and prevent further lesbian parking lot trauma.

Disclaimer #2: This is a story about women. In love. With each other. But I guess you already knew that. – If this is not your cup of tea, rest assured that I prefer coffee and that you needn’t read this. If this is illegal where you live, please be careful. – Also, I can’t believe that after ten years of writing fiction online, I still have to apologize for my contents. If fuchsia bras qualify as NSFW in your book, I guess this story might rate as PG-13 upwards.

Note/Nota: This story is also available in Spanish, thanks to Sam’s wonderful translating work! Updates for “Atreverse” can be found every weekend over at her blog,  “Ya sé que estoy piantao”. — Esta historia también está disponible en español, gracias al gran trabajo de Sam. El nuevo capitulo de “Atreverse” se puede leer cada finde en su blog, “Ya sé que estoy piantao”.

Additional note: This story is as of yet unfinished. It will be written and posted in parts, updated weekly, Friday nights at 9 p.m. (GMT+1). You know that my time is limited, and that my time management sucks, but I’ll try to keep it up.

---

7

 

It wasn’t Sicily in the end. But it was a posh private center.

“Merano?” Esther asked with disbelief. “They shipped her off to Merano?!”

“You don’t need to cross the Garda Lake by boat.” Teresa, who had been about to buff her nails on the lapels of her jacket, was disappointed with Esther’s reaction. “You can just drive alongside it, with a car, so I don’t think there was any shipping involved.”

“Of course,” Esther hastened to agree. “Teresa, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best. The very, very best.”

“I’ve done just a little digging.” Teresa waved Esther off, but when Esther hugged her with enthusiasm, she couldn’t smother a smile. “And the clinic is in no way associated with Dr. Corradi.”

The relief was clearly visible on Esther’s face. “Yes, if it was really her parents who transferred her there, they wouldn’t involve Vera.”

“Why not, actually?” Teresa frowned. “Just hypothetically speaking, of course,” she added when Esther opened her mouth to protest. “They’re old aristocracy with an upscale wine label that gets them into the society column sometimes… I’ve heard.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Corradi should be right up their alley: money and connections. And I know the contracts a pediatrician can get in this city, I’ve had quite a few going across my desk, and she didn’t get the money for that chalet in Locarno by treating children with chicken pox.”

That was another piece of knowledge that Teresa’s research had unveiled. Vera had a private holiday home, in Switzerland, but thankfully, it seemed as if Marina wasn’t sharing that home with her at the moment.

“For such a family, someone like Corradi would be perfect.” Teresa was still puzzled. And, even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was still impressed by the chalet in Locarno. “I don’t understand why they would disapprove of her.”

“Because she’s a woman, Terry,” Esther said with annoyance. The idea that Vera would be a good fit for Marina was nothing she wanted to hear about in any context. It came to close to her own fears – Marina with her money, a woman who always knew what wine to get with a menu. Next to Vera with her expensive leather bags and her chalet, Esther had an apartment that wasn’t even her own and in her father’s house, open bottles of red were kept in the fridge.

“You’d think that with that much money and connections, they wouldn’t care.” Teresa shook her head. “Granted, I only had her father’s secretary on the phone, but it was a man, and he said ‘personal secretary to Count Ranieri.’ If people are only snobby enough, the Ranieris don’t seem to care about gender very much – really, who would hire a man as a personal secretary?!”

Still, thanks to that secretary, they knew that Marina’s parents were back in Europe, and that they had apparently taken the time to arrange a transfer of Marina to a private clinic in Merano before flying off to a fair in Southern France.

“I wonder whether they even visited her,” Esther said angrily. “And if they care about her, why didn’t they find a place in a clinic somewhere closer to them? There have to be pricey private clinics around Tuscany, too!”

“Instead they park her up in Tyrol…”  Teresa pursed her lips. If her husband would have to go to a health resort, she’d make sure that it was one close by. “Well, at least they won’t interrupt you if you visit her. – You are going to visit her, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Esther was already checking connections with the state railway on the same computer where they had just then looked up the expensive private health and rehabilitation center where Marina was right now. “Oh no!”

“What?” Teresa looked over her shoulder in alarm. “Merano has a train station, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but the trip is almost five hours,” Esther said unhappily. “And I only have Saturday off, I have to be on shift Sunday morning. With how bad the connections are, I will barely have time to see her.”

“It’s just a little over three hours with the car,” Teresa commented.

“And I’ve suddenly won a car, or what?” Esther was scrolling through the list of possible connections.

Teresa leaned against the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually…” She hesitated a little. “…actually, Alfredo could go to the weekend soccer match with the metro.”

It was hard to say who was more surprised – Esther at the offer, or Teresa at herself.

A little more movement wouldn’t be bad for Alfredo. And it wouldn’t hurt to remind him that they had bought that car with money that had been earned by Teresa, for the most part.

And thanks to that reasoning, early Saturday morning saw Esther behind the wheel of Teresa’s family car, three hours and a half in front of her, alone with herself and her thoughts.

In the end, Teresa had been reluctant about her own generous offer. Esther had noticed it, but she had chosen to ignore it. The chance to see Marina was too tempting. As were the daydreams of whisking Marina away from the clinic for a while in this car and driving them both to a quiet spot where they could talk. For now, just talk. Although Esther wouldn’t mind to seal that talk with a kiss.

She was still stunned that Teresa had offered up her family car. They hadn’t spoken about the period of hostility that Teresa had initiated between them and that had slowly vanished, albeit without ever addressing it. Perhaps it was easier for Teresa to accept Esther’s feelings for Marina when Marina wasn’t there, but somewhere conveniently away. Like in Tyrol.

And Esther running after someone, Esther had to admit that, was something that Teresa was familiar with. Only that this time, it wasn’t Aldo, or some other guy who dumped his laundry on her doorstep and called her “puppet”, but Marina. And Marina drove Esther home from work. She had bought her an expensive dress once. She invited Esther to dinner, or to the cinema.

At least Marina had done all those things. Like a perfect boyfriend. And now Esther was running after Marina like she had run after every one of her boyfriends, with the same lack of success.

To Teresa, things had to look pretty much the same as they always had.

Perhaps that was why Esther now sat in this car that steadily took the road, first out east to Verona and then up towards Tyrol. Hill slopes covered in vines seemed to rock the curvy street between them. The bright red of ripening apples shone in the clear mountain air and at times, down to her left, she managed to catch a glance at the slate-green ripples of the Adige River.

It was a mild, inviting scenery, made for recovery, and hopefully for new beginnings.

Esther’s confident mood began to wane when she approached the clinic areal. At least she assumed it was the clinic, since all she could see were big wire fences, thick hedges, and, at the locked entry gate, two framing palm trees who moved softly within the breeze, unsympathetic to her outrage at the note of “no visitors” on the gate.

The watchman on duty was equally unhelpful as the nurses of the Regina Elisabetta had been, annoyed already that Esther had dared to ring in the first place, and then even less courteous when Esther told him in no uncertain terms that she was here to see a friend. A friend and colleague. A really good friend. Goddamnit, her girlfriend!

“No visitors,” he repeated for the fifth time, in an unfriendly tone.

Esther couldn’t believe that she should be stopped so close to her goal. “But I just drove up the entire way from Milan!”

“You could fly in with a helicopter from Timbuktu, I still wouldn’t let you in.” The guard straightened his posture.

Esther supposed that the clinic was posh enough to have people arrive by helicopter, but if she had a helicopter, she would simply chop across the head of this arrogant prick.

“But it’s a special situation…” Esther tried again.

“Look, Miss, if you want a special situation, I can call my colleague over there…” The watchman pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants that were a little too small for him and nodded at a small cabin next to the gate. “And we can carry you off the grounds if you refuse to leave in peace.”

Esther shut her eyes tightly for a second, refusing to cry in front of this man. Somewhere behind those lines of palm trees and boxwood, there was Marina. “Could you at least deliver a message?” She hated having to ask him. “Let her decide whether she wants to see me or not. Just let her know that I’m here.”

“Do you see the sign up there?” The watchman pointed at the gate. “It still says ‘no visitors’. – This is a private clinic, for private recovery. We’ve had enough trouble with press and nosy tourists already.”

With that, he closed the small door in the gate he had opened to speak to Esther and walked back to the cabin at the side. He didn’t turn around as Esther called after him. He didn’t react at all.

Esther kicked at the iron gate, cursing under her breath. She hadn’t been driving three and a half hours on her day off, paying road charge at every other stop, to be sent away again by a guard without having seen Marina.

She wished Rocco were here with her. He would have an idea. Rocco always had an idea. He would even help her to climb the stupid fence. Perhaps they didn’t have guards on the other side, at the back. Esther returned to the car and drove around the next hill slope, out of sight, before she allowed herself to slump against the back of her seat and take a deep breath.

Then she reached for her cell phone. She had Rocco’s number already on the display when another idea occurred to her.

She still had Marina’s number. On speed dial, even.

Perhaps Marina had her phone with her.

Perhaps she would pick up.

Esther was by now so used to Marina not taking her calls – it was something where she had collected quite a bit of practice in the weeks leading up to the shooting – that she nearly jumped when Marina answered after three rings.

“Esther, hello!”

She sounded much more awake, and happy about the call. And it seemed as if she still had Esther’s number in her agenda, which shouldn’t be a reason to sink into the car seat with a huge, goofy grin, but Esther didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even say goodbye,” Marina’s voice was pleasant, and warm, and vibrant, and Esther closed her eyes, allowing herself to revel in the coveted sound close to her ear. “My parents suddenly appeared and arranged to have me transferred, and I was still…” Marina interrupted herself for a moment and then continued in a whisper. “…I was still under sedation. – Sorry, but they’re a little picky with phones on the premises…”

“I can imagine,” Esther said wryly. “If the rest of the personnel are anything like the watchdogs at the gate, I wouldn’t stay, not even for the palm trees.”

“Yes, they are somewhat… stiff about protocol,” Marina agreed. “No visito… wait… how do you know that?”

“I just tried to convince them to let me see you, but they wouldn’t even give you a message.” Now that it was over, now that Marina was listening to her, the tears were coming. Hastily, Esther tried to wipe them away. “He just left me standing there. Jerk.”

“You… you were here?” Marina asked and she sounded shy. “Esther, what are you doing up here?”

It wasn’t really the question Esther had wanted to hear. “I heard this was supposed a nice holiday region,” she said lightly. “So I thought I’d have a look.”

“It’s a four hour drive from Milan!” Marina protested.

“But I heard it’s a really nice holiday region,” Esther insisted. “And it’s only three and a half hours.”

“You’re crazy,” Marina muttered. “Absolutely crazy.” But it didn’t sound as if she minded the fact very much.

Esther’s stomach had turned into jelly at the tone and for a few moments, there was just the shared sound of their breathing, suddenly loud across the line.

Then Marina spoke again. “Where are you?”

“Behind the slope of the next hill,” Esther replied truthfully and she had to press her fingertips against the bridge of her nose to hold back more tears.

“The backside to the garden has no fence,” Marina said, and she sounded like she had before Luigi and before the shooting. “There’s just trees and bushes, a little out of sight, where the wild ones of us smoke… If you park the car around the corner, we could meet there… if you’d like…” That last bit sounded a lot less confident, something untypical in Marina.

“I’ll be there,” Esther promised, and the phrase rolled off her tongue like an archaic promise. It was a timeless scenery, slow steps up the hill, a small trampled pathway and an autumn sun warm and golden at her back. High grasses brushed against her pants and she could have walked here in any era, with that same solemn nervousness, towards that same goal: the woman waiting for her at the end of this path.

Marina sat in a wheelchair at the edge of a gravel pathway, still a little pale, but smiling at the sight of Esther. “I had to give Giacomo three cigarettes to wheel me out here,” she said by way of greeting. “I still can’t do it myself…” She gestured with her right hand at her immobilized left, at her heavily bandaged shoulder and her legs. “The therapists spend much more time with the torn tendon in my leg than with my shoulder.”

Esther crossed her arms over her chest. “Smoking’s bad for you.” She was close enough to see the small lines around Marina’s eyes and her fingertips echoed with the sensation of following their lines, soft skin upon soft skin, back in Milan – it seemed a lifetime ago – in the early light of dawn.

“I know,” said Marina and she looked up at Esther with a grin. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

And I can’t believe you aren’t with me all the time. But Esther didn’t say that. Instead, she shrugged. “These private clinics tend to have horrible nursing staff.” With Marina in the chair, she debated a second too long whether it was appropriate to bend down and hug her, but then the moment had already passed. She closed her empty hands. “I had to check on you, it’s a matter of professional ethics.”

“Of course,” Marina agreed. She looked up at Esther, a little longer than necessary. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you recover,” Esther replied quietly. The gratitude she felt at seeing Marina like this, awake and making jokes, with sunbeams dancing over her face, was a sensation she had no words for, just as she had had none for the numbing fear and the cold grass, blood in the dark and Marina’s motionless body buried under her own.

Esther shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Marina asked immediately. “We can go inside. The room is decent room, but it doesn’t have an espresso machine like back in Milan.”

Back in Milan sounded good. It sounded as if Marina had the intention to return.

“No phones, no smoking, and no espresso makers in the rooms? Really, and they call this a recovery retreat? ” Esther teased gently. “Ah, let me guess – I’ll be the one pushing you back inside in this chair? And here I thought this was my day off…”

Marina didn’t say please. “If you have three cigarettes, you can get Giacomo to do it.” Marina rarely said ‘please’. But the few times she had said it, breathlessly, her voice rough, her body trembling against Esther’s own, were instances that were etched permanently into all of Esther’s senses.

For a moment, she was relieved that Marina couldn’t see her face as she pushed her forward in the wheelchair. They talked about the weather and the mountain air while Esther enjoyed the way the sunlight played with Marina’s hair.

She would have loved to run her fingers through it.

“Don’t worry if anyone sees us,” Marina said when they approached a long building with small verandas to one side. “There’s an aging diva three doors down who has brought a secretary just to read to her; I think I’m qualified to have the best head nurse of Milan for a visit.”

Of course, Marina’s room had a little veranda, too, with a view south into the vines, the panaroma dotted with a few palms. Uphill, a little castle was set against the golden and reddish glow of autumn leaves.

“It’s beautiful,” Esther enthused, completely taken with the view.

Marina’s eyes wandered from the landscape to Esther’s silhouette, her features momentarily dark against the sun. “Yes, it is.”

Inside the room, an elaborate bouquet of flowers took up the entire coffee table. Esther frowned at it and Marina caught her look.

“Vera,” Marina said by way of explanation and it sounded like an apology.

So Vera hadn’t informed her, either, Esther thought. Aloud, she asked, “Did she bring them personally?”

Marina, who had rolled herself to the bedside with her right hand, stopped in her movements. “Jealous?” she wanted to know and her tone was light and joking.

Esther didn’t look away. “Yes,” she said firmly.

It was an answer Marina hadn’t expected, she could see that in the bout of breathless silence that followed. The old energy flared up between them, easily and completely unexpected. Esther didn’t dare to move.

Marina broke the moment, looking away. “No, it was a delivery service,” she admitted. “She said she might try to travel up next weekend.”

“Ah,” Esther said noncommittally, even though she was doing a jubilant dance inside of her mind. She was here and she had beaten Vera to it, flowers or not.

“I’m really happy you came,” Marina said.

Esther wished she could put that phrase in a box and take it back to Milan with her. “And I didn’t even have to steal scrubs this time,” she joked.

Marina cocked her head to the side. “But I think you would have.”

“I just might,” Esther agreed, and that seemed to please Marina even more. The tension between them seemed to stretch further, humming with than undercurrent of electricity that was at once familiar and removed.

Marina closed her eyes and shook her head. “Esther… I know we need to talk, but I need to work through some things first. I need to get my feet back under me, in every sense of the…“

Esther didn’t let her finish. “I came to see you, nothing else,” she said easily.

“All right,” Marina said and she sounded disappointed.

“Anything else can wait,” Esther added, and there was a small, awkward break as ideas of this ‘anything’ resounded within the small room. Esther decided to change the topic. “So is the food in this resort any good at least?”

“It would be, if I weren’t on a bland diet due to the medication,” Marina complained. “This is Tyrol! I’m in the middle of famous hams, wines and cheeses… and I don’t even get to taste them.”

Esther tried to hide her smile behind a cough. “I’m sorry.”

“Right up the next hill, they make a fantastic light red…” Marina sighed. “We’ll have to sample it sometime when I get out of here.”

The invitation was unexpected and Marina herself looked as if this had been a little too fast for her.

“I’d like that,” Esther acknowledged, but then she eased up. “Right now would be a bad idea, though, because I still need to drive and Teresa needs the car back before nightfall.”

Marina’s jaw dropped. “You’re here with Teresa’s car?”

“How do you think I found out that you were here?” Esther said with a laugh, and there was an odd sensation of pride.

“Teresa,” Marina concluded after a second. “Of course.”

“You have no idea how mad she was after Vera transferred you over to the Regina Elisabetta just after she had gone off shift.” Esther shook her head at the memory. “…not as mad as I was, though.”

“None of you authorized the transfer?” Marina asked.

“As if!” Esther snorted. “Neither Danieli, nor Terry, nor I. We were all of shift.”

“How is everyone?” Marina wanted to know.

“They miss you,” Esther said simply. I miss you.

Marina smiled somewhat sadly. “I miss them, too.”

“Will you be back?” Esther couldn’t refrain herself from asking, even though she knew that she might not like the answer.

“I don’t know yet.” Marina looked at her free hand that was toying with the corner of the bedcover. “They put me in consultation over Luigi,” she admitted. She gave Esther a lopsided grin. “Apparently I have control issues.”

Esther arched an eyebrow. “I’d never have guessed.”

“Ey!” Marina protested, and she pulled a little bit on the blanket with the impetus, baring a small, stuffed tiger that was peeking out from under the pillow.

“But that…” Esther was momentarily distracted. “But, your dedication is part of what makes you so good at what you do.” Oh, and she did not just mean the job, not by far. Esther looked at the small tiger, and at Marina and just wanted to swoop her up into her arms and kiss the living daylights out of her.

“I’m working on a better balance,” Marina said in earnest.

“I’m working on that, too,” Esther agreed, even though part of her impulses weren’t balanced at all at the moment.

When Esther finally left, they hugged, Marina having to tip back her head and Esther bending down to the wheelchair and instinctively closing her eyes at the scent of Marina. The brush of her hair against Esther’s cheek felt like a firm touch and when Marina reached for her hand in a final goodbye, Esther’s first impulse was to hold onto that hand and spread it against her ribs in a try to transmit the wild urge Marina had created within.

But all this would have to wait.

On the way back to her car, Esther all but groaned in frustration. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” The first thing she would do at home would be to step under a very cold shower.

She was back in Milan in under three hours.

…

---

…

That’s it for this week, people. Thanks for stopping by! The following chapter will be available next Friday, 9 p.m. (GMT+1) Comments, as always, welcome below. [edited and beta read Oct. 24th, 13:55 (GMT+1)]

~ by Anik LaChev on October 23, 2009.