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Breakfast was a rowdy, fun affair, with final arrangements coordinated for our return home to New York before a wedding still being planned. Two weeks at our primary residence, then the same time on Planet Nine, meant a full month away from Florence.
When I was alone in the kitchen with a table full of crumbs, empty plates and the lingering aroma of coffee, I sighed while staring wistfully out of a window at the Piazza. Maria worked around me, tidying in a well organized rush.
“I would give a penny for those thoughts.”
“I don’t want to leave, Maria.”
“Florence is like that to most. Art, life, philosophy and love are boundless here. It is addictive.”
“I’m hooked.”
“You will return, Amy. I am certain.”
In New York, I would have time to consolidate my studies, submit final essays, attend meetings with my professors, package a degree, and discuss a halfway drafted valedictorian speech for graduation. I had a standing invitation to the Harriman Institute, where they wanted me to speak, have lunch, and sign off on the art and notable documents from my treasure to be retained by Columbia University.
I stirred a decaf Latte that Maria had made especially weak for me, then took it to visit Caprica, who left breakfast early. Aside from Victor, the others hadn’t noticed she left because they were deeply immersed in the coupling process. Dad loved a woman who wasn’t my mother, but that felt okay because Mom was gone, and Katerina loved me dearly.