Harrison stood in the corridor outside of Josetta’s room. He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. Harrison drew strength from his holy friend and it hurt deeply to watch him slip away. He vowed to keep his promise that Josetta would meet Hannah while he remained conscious and alert. With that certainty, Harrison worked his way out of the Vatican and the multitude of Swiss Papal Guards who protected the Holy See.
Hannah twisted and turned for almost an hour as her wedding dress was tailored to the curves and lines of her elongated, beautiful body. She bit slightly and pulled down her upper lip as she addressed her seamstress: “Rosella, are we about finished?” The seamstress nodded and smiled, “Uno minuto.” Hannah has waited through numerous “uno minutos.” ‘After all, my wedding day will only happen once’ she prayed as she crossed her wedding ring finger of her left hand. As she did so, Hannah admired the diamond engagement ring given to her by her betrothed Harrison. She extended her ring toward Rosella and asked for a second time that day, “Isn’t this the most beautiful engagement ring you ever saw?” Rosella eyed the ring for a second time and responded politely as she did before, “Si, bello.” Hannah turned her hand toward herself and cherished the ring that she believed would be on her finger forever.
Rosella was a family friend of Harrison’s and it was in her home in Carrara that Hannah’s wedding dress was being tailored. The home was nestled in the side of a small mountain. It was a two-story structure set in white stone and red brick. The home was set between two large verandas. The main front porch was screened and contained a variety of comfortable outdoor furniture utilized for chat, cards and other table games. The rear porch was rectangular and the wide base lent itself to an extended dinner table. The traditional Italian grapevine draped the perimeter of the porch causing the sun’s reflection to appear as moving dots on the table.
“Finito,” Rosella said finally. The seamstress stepped back to admire her work and again repeated, “Bello.” She helped Hannah out of her wedding dress and remarked that she would have the alterations completed in two weeks. Hannah thanked Rosella for her exquisite tailoring and apologized for her impatience during the fitting.
Hannah stepped out of Rosella’s home into the hot summer day. Like most homes in Carrara, air conditioning was rare. Yet, the humming of many fans kept the home sufficiently cool so that Hannah gasped slightly from the sudden intake of outdoor heat. She was off to the train station and headed for Rome to meet Harrison for dinner. It would take several hours on the Italian railway before arriving at Rome’s Saint Peter station.
The train ride to Rome was mundane leaving Hannah to her quiet thoughts and the anticipation of being with her beloved. She thought about their first meeting in Rome and how the Pontiff, Joseph Josetta, intersected their lives. Hannah was covering the failing health of the Pope as a journalist while Harrison was comforting his old friend Josetta. The man of God was their bond, the cornerstone of their first meeting.
Hannah smiled to herself as she recalled her first glimpse of her handsome Harrison. He was a lean, tall man, ‘four inches above six feet’ he always informed her. His hair was dark brown with some distinguished graying at the temples. Harrison was a muscular man, but not grotesquely so. He often trained to sustain the physical demands of his employment.
‘His employment,’ the words echoed in Hannah’s mind. She knew that Harrison conducted special assignments for the President of the United States. ‘Similar to the Secret Service’ he had said. It was not the danger inherent in Harrison’s assignments that permeated her thoughts at the moment, but the fact that the President of the United States was Elizabeth Ashton, the first woman President in the history of America— and her husband-to-be conducted ‘special’ assignments for madam President. Has jealousy reared its ugly head so early in their relationship? Hannah dismissed the thought with a confident, quiet laugh.
Hannah’s thoughts returned to the attractiveness of the man. She certainly was not the only woman who buckled under the spell of the suave Harrison Rossetti. Elizabeth Ashton was no slouch even for a bureaucrat. Harrison, the man, certainly did not escape the eye of madam President. ‘Hmm?’ Hannah thought rhetorically. She shook her head as if the act itself would magically jar the thought from her mind.
The lives of Hannah and Harrison intersected near St. Peter’s Basilica about four months ago. Hannah was on her way to Vatican City for a news briefing on the health of Pope Joseph Josetta. Harrison was leaving the Vatican after visiting his holy confidant. He was somewhat dejected and out of sorts as he leaned against the wall. Neither Harrison’s attractiveness nor his demeanor escaped Hannah’s observant eye. Her heart raced as she approached the disconcerted man and asked with genuine concern, “Are you all right?” There came no immediate response as Harrison was immersed in his own deep thoughts, oblivious to the sights and sounds that surrounded him. Hannah repeated her question; however, this time she tapped the preoccupied man on his shoulder. Harrison gazed up for the first time and the once indifferent surroundings sharpened into focus. He was aware of a woman’s presence, but not what was asked of him. Harrison said uncertainly, “Excuse me?” Hannah repeated for a third time, “Are you OK?”
Harrison managed a terse smile. He looked deeply into the eyes of the questioner noticing for the first time the beauty of the woman before him. “Yes, yes I am” he managed to interject. Hannah smiled and seemed relieved that she did not have to begin emergency procedures. Harrison’s disposition brightened as he gazed beyond Hannah’s eyes. She was indeed a stunning woman. She was tall and slender with pleasing features and a most endearing smile. “Steady Harrison,” he said barely aloud. “I’m sorry?” returned Hannah. Harrison gathered himself and extended his hand as he introduced himself, “I’m Harrison Rossetti …and you are?” “Hannah, Hannah Littleton” she offered and shook his hand firmly.
“You seemed troubled,” said Hannah. ‘Troubled, always’ Harrison mused to himself. “My friend,” he paused, aware of some swelling in his eyes, “Pope Josetta is quite ill.” “You know personally the Holy Father?” asked Hannah. “Yes, I have known him for a long time” Harrison managed to reply. “I am very sorry,” replied Hannah. He looked at the beautiful woman and nodded gratefully in response. The pause grew into an uncomfortable silence that shrouded the two strangers.