Francisco translated. "I told him آپ wanted the job. He wants to know if you've ever made a crepe."
I looked at Hugo and nodded. He laughed and handed me a rose. Before I could ask any مزید questions, he handed me an تہبند, برساتی and a spoon. Then Hugo pointed at Francisco.
"He wants to know if آپ need me."
"Yes!" I said. "I need آپ to translate the orders."
Francisco nodded to Hugo and was also handed an apron. "He says I have to cook too."
So we both headed to the kitchen. Standing اگلے to Francisco, mixing batter, well, everything just felt right.
1 ماہ LATER...
Like I said, the bakery was big and successful. In as little as a month, I had مزید money than I raised in America! But when I told Francisco it was time for me to اقدام again, he got the saddest look in his eyes. I felt like the hole in my دل opened up again.
On the دن my train was set to leave, Francisco کہا his goodbyes through tears. I couldn't do it.
"Francisco, use the money آپ got from the bakery to come to Italy with me! We could travel together!"
The light immediately returned to his eyes. "Ok!"
So we boarded the train, ready for anything and prepared for anything.
The whole train ride, I had a terrible stomachache. I tried to remember what I ate earlier. A crepe, some cafe con leche, some grapes, the grapes! Seeds don't sit well with me. I should have known better than to trust a man in the streets selling fruit out of a paper bag.
Finally, Francisco yelled out.
"The Tower! She is up ahead!"
"What tower?" I never did well in history in school.
"The Leaning Tower of Piza! We are in Italy!"
