Only You by K.T. Quinn

3

Molly

The Day The Lockdown Began

I forgot all about the guy I had mistakenly berated when my friend Sara called me.

“What do you mean, your flight is canceled?” I asked.

“It’s not just our flight,” she replied. “It’s all flights! Everything going in and out of Rome is canceled. It’s the same for most of Italy, I think. It has to do with that new virus.”

“I thought it was isolated to that area by the Swiss border,” I replied. “My travel agent told me it wouldn’t affect my trip!”

“Why did you leave a day early?” Sara complained. “If you had been on our flight this wouldn’t have happened…”

“I don’t know.” My throat tightened. “What am I supposed to do without you? I was really looking forward to this trip.”

“I know. This sucks. We’re going to be checking in to see if our flight gets rescheduled. I have to go. I’ll let you know if anything changes. I miss you, Molls!”

“Miss you too.”

I sat on the bed and sighed. The urge to feel sorry for myself was overwhelming. It had been one bad thing after another this year. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t win. Not even on my vacation.

“Forget that,” I said out loud. “I’m here. I’m the lucky one who got to arrive before everyone else! I’m going to enjoy the city by myself.”

Even though the Colosseum was closed, I could still walk to it and admire it from the outside. Not to mention exploring the rest of the city. It was close to lunchtime now, so getting some delicious Italian food sounded like a great way to brighten my mood. I put my shoes back on and took the elevator back down to the lobby. Thankfully, the sexy guy I had yelled at was gone.

The concierge was behind the desk. I walked up to him and asked, “The man who was in the lobby earlier. Is he a guest at the hotel?”

“Mr. Russo? Yes, he has been a guest for the past week. I believe he is departing this evening.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn’t run into him again. No matter how gorgeous he was, I dealt poorly with embarrassment. A second run-in might have literally killed me with awkwardness. Even just the thought of it made me cringe.

I shook it off and asked the concierge, “Can you recommend a good restaurant for lunch? Something within walking distance.”

He winced. “I am sorry, but you are not allowed to leave the building.”

The words were nonsense to me. “I’m not allowed to what?”

“The mayor has instituted a stay-at-home order,” he said. “No one is allowed in public, unless they have urgent business.”

“You have got to be kidding me. Because of the virus thing?”

“I am afraid so. When we have additional information, we will let you know. The Residencia Al Gladiatore is sorry for the inconvenience.”

I looked around helplessly. “I was going to get lunch. What am I supposed to do now?”

He gestured to his right. “The hotel restaurant is one of the best in the city, I assure you.”

I was too tired to argue, so I walked over to the restaurant. Nobody was inside except for a single host behind the bar. “Buongiorno,” he said. “Unfortunately, our dining room is closed until further notice.”

“But the concierge said this was where I could get food.”

“Our kitchen is indeed open, but only for meals to-go. We can bring your order directly to your room.”

I ordered the carbonara and went up to my room. When the food arrived it was room-temperature and tasted like it was reheated in the microwave.

I had a dozen bottles of wine on the spare bed, purchased in the duty-free section of the airport. I had expected them to only last a couple of nights with the girls, but since my friends were no longer coming I had them all to myself.

“Better get started,” I said as I opened a bottle of red. “I’m on vacation, after all.”

I turned on the TV and found a channel with English closed-captioning. Sure enough, all flights were grounded nationwide. The lockdowns weren’t just isolated to Rome: the Italian Prime Minister was announcing a full quarantine beginning that evening across the country. The borders with France, Switzerland, Austria, and Slovenia were closed. Nobody was allowed in or out of the country.

“Holy crap…”

I listened numbly as they talked about strain variants and spread rates. I didn’t understand a word, even with the English subtitles. It all went over my head. What I did understand was that they recommended everyone wash their hands with soap and water.

“Two happy birthdays?” I muttered while looking at my hands.

The longer I watched, a feeling of dread crept into my chest. This wasn’t just a mild inconvenience to my vacation. This was serious.

The door to the adjacent room opened, then closed with a thud. I heard my hotel neighbor walk through the hotel room, thumping across the floor. Classical Italian music began playing from a speaker, drifting through the wall into my room. A few minutes later I smelled the delicious aroma of food being cooked. Tomato sauce, spices, and pork filled my hotel room through our conjoining door.

“At least someone’s enjoying their stay,” I muttered.

I watched TV for a few hours, then drifted off to sleep. The combination of jet lag and good red wine must have knocked me out, because the next thing I knew, fresh sunlight was streaming through the door to the balcony. It was morning, and I had slept for thirteen straight hours.

“Woo, vacation,” I mumbled out loud.

I turned off the TV and decided to treat myself to a bubble bath. As soon as I sank into the scalding water, all the stress oozed out of my body. After a few minutes, I started feeling more like myself.

I found a news stream on my phone and let that play while I soaked. More information about the virus was getting out. It was respiratory, meaning it spread through the air. There was also a risk of transmitting it through items, like doorknobs or other objects handed back and forth, although experts didn’t know how great the risk was. Everyone was urged to wear a mask when going out in public.

The phrase global pandemic was being used. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie.

And the symptoms of the virus itself… Let’s just say I didn’t want to get it, even though I was a healthy twenty-nine year old.

Ten minutes of listening to that made me glad I was holed up. It was safer to be here than walking around outside, potentially getting infected.

I called room service for breakfast. The bellhop who brought it to me was a skinny teenager wearing a scarf across his mouth. I quickly pulled my shirt up to cover my mouth too.

“I sorry for the food,” he said in pretty good, although muffled, English. “The chef did not come in. The hotel is doing its best.”

“If the chef isn’t here, then who made the food?” I asked.

“The concierge. He is very good, I promise! I helped as well.”

I tipped the boy and brought the food inside. I squirted a little bit of liquid soap into my hand and then rubbed it all over the outside of the metal room service dish. Then I removed the lid on the plate.

“Well, at least it’s something,” I muttered. I had come to Italy to eat delicious food. Instead I was making do with cold bread and jam, runny eggs, and lukewarm instant coffee.

My neighbor was making breakfast. Bacon or sausage, based on the smell wafting over to my room. Whoever they were, maybe they should go downstairs to run the restaurant.

I carried my food out onto the balcony so that I wouldn’t have to smell my neighbor’s food. It was also a beautiful day, and my balcony had a gorgeous view of the city. I could just see the top level of the Colosseum over the building to the right, and the plaza outside the hotel was spread out below me. When I had arrived yesterday, the plaza was crammed with people and street performers. Now it was completely empty.

Rome was one of the most visited tourist locations in the world, but now it was a ghost town. The emptiness gave the beautiful view an eerie pallor.

The loneliness of the city seeped into my mood and I felt very alone. It would have been better if my friends were here, because at least then we could go through it together. But by myself…

I reached for my phone, then stopped myself. I would have given anything to be able to text mom just then. She would have known what to say to make me feel better. She always did.

I ate my breakfast and tried to enjoy the strange, deserted view.