My Romantic Rendezvous with Greece...

Chapter VII - Fly Me Too The Moon...

Dear Readers,

It was one of those mornings where the sunlight slipped through the cracks in the curtains like shy golden dancers, spilling across the wooden floor and onto the bed. The world outside chirped awake, but inside my room, it was already alive, with fur and mischief.

First came Millie, the white-furred queen of comfort, who had appointed herself as the guardian of my chest. She purred with such regal authority that I dared not move. Then came Romeo, the orange mountain of fluff with a belly full of pride and sardonic humor. He plopped onto me with the grace of a falling anvil.

“Romeo, you’ve put on weight,” I whispered.

He stared at me like a disgruntled nobleman disturbed from his royal nap, then meowed in a tone that sounded suspiciously like a sarcastic, “Oh, really?”

Millie, curled up by my neck, let out a delicate sneeze, and Romeo immediately jumped as though someone had insulted his honor. He slid off the recliner, dramatically knocking over a small stack of books in protest.

I chuckled. These two were comedy gold.

As I slowly sat up, they both bolted out of the room like I had declared a cataclysmic event- breakfast time. But just before Romeo turned the corner, I called out, “Romeo!”

He paused mid-run, turned his massive, judgmental head back to me, narrowed his eyes as if to say, Don’t forget who owns this house, then gave the loudest meow I’d heard all week. A meow that somehow sounded like both a complaint and a farewell.

I shook my head, grinning, and got up to gather my laundry. Today was supposed to be laundry day and, hopefully, a bit more. I’d been expecting to meet Fedrick to help out with some café matters, but he had been missing in action the past few days. Something felt off.

At the Reception Cafe, the sun was shining brighter than usual, or maybe it was the way Merida greeted me.

“Good morning, my love,” she sang out with that lilt only she could carry.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I replied with a half-smile. “And good morning, Sir and Ma’am,” I added, respectfully nodding to Merida’s parents. I still couldn’t bring myself to call them anything else. It felt proper, honoring.

Her mother waved warmly. Her father gave me that classic approving grunt that was practically a blessing in its own right.

Merida walked toward me, her presence soft and radiant, her apron slightly dusted with flour. “My love, are you joining us for tea?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, settling down beside her father as Merida’s mother brought out the usual morning spread, warm croissants, butter, and their signature lavender-scented tea.

“I haven’t seen Fedrick lately,” I began casually.

Her father’s brow furrowed. “He had a bit of a fall. Sprained his leg, it seems. My wife will be going now to check on him. Me, too, will be leaving in a few minutes to check on him. Want to come along?”

“Absolutely,” I said without a second thought.

Merida turned to me, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Go along, Jacob. You’ll both enjoy the walk together.”

She leaned in, and I caught the scent of cinnamon from her baking. “And maybe you’ll charm my father even more,” she whispered teasingly.

“Working on it,” I said with a wink.

As we walked through the cobblestone path, her father, whom I respectfully continued to call Sir, pointed out stories about nearly every turn, tree, and statue we passed. He wasn’t just walking, he was unveiling a living memory of the town.

Halfway through the walk, he turned to me.

“Jacob,” he said, “tell me about yourself. I’ve heard plenty from Merida, but I want to hear it from you.”

I felt the usual thrum of nerves rise, but something about him calmed me.

“Well, Sir,” I began, “singing’s always been part of me. My mother dreamt of me playing the violin, but life twisted that into a love for the piano. I got into electronics, computers, but life taught me to keep on learning, no matter what. But writing... writing came from someone special.”

I looked up at the sky, remembering.

“My professor, RG Bhat. He believed in me when I didn’t. He told me my words had wings. Everything I write is because someone like him said, ‘You can.’”

“That’s rare,” he nodded. “And your career?”

“I owe that to my Sir. Mr. Dean. From sales to logistics to IT, he mentored me like a Perfect boss would. He was amazing. Without him, I wouldn’t have grown into the man what I am today.”

He smiled. “And your parents?”

“They were my world,” I said softly. “Mom passed in 2008, after my accident in 2007, Dad in 2018. I miss them every day.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You carry their love well, Jacob.”

When we arrived at Fedrick’s home, the man himself was sitting out front with his leg propped up and bandaged.

“What in the world happened to you?” I laughed.

“My wife,” he said solemnly, “was so beautiful that I forgot how to walk straight.”

His wife rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder lovingly. “He missed a step while flirting and broke his pride and his leg.”

Fedrick laughed heartily. “I’ll be back to work tomorrow.”

“With that leg?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t let the café fall apart.”

“Let me help. I’ll serve the tables and maybe even serenade a few guests.”

Fedrick looked genuinely touched. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. And Merida can play the piano while I sing. We’ll make a night of it.”

Her father nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

Just then, like a song queued perfectly, Merida walked in carrying a basket of fresh bread.

“Jacob?” she asked, puzzled.

Fedrick beamed. “This man’s taking over tonight’s service and music. He’s our hero.”

She turned to me, eyes wide with wonder and love. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Only for you, my love.”

So now came the game changer: I decided to take life to the next step. Knowing that I wasn't an old man, just a man stressed out. I decided to trim my beard and dye it black. And start dressing to the occasion since I have less time lets get to it. I went to a barber and got it done. The transformation was amazing.

Later that evening, back at the café, the magic unfolded. Everyone was stunned by my transformation. They wondered who this guy was.

Fedrick sat by the counter, sipping tea and giving instructions like an old war general. I donned an apron that Merida insisted on tying for me. She even kissed my cheek before we started.

“You’re the most handsome singing waiter this place has ever seen,” she whispered.

As guests poured in, I dashed between tables, notepad in hand, occasionally breaking into a line or two of our favorite duets. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, the harmony of Merida’s piano- it was heaven in motion.

When we reached the final act of the evening, the room grew quiet. Merida began the soft, jazzy intro of “Fly Me to the Moon, by Frank Sinatra, and I walked to the center with a mic.

As we sang, I looked into her eyes. Every word felt like it was written for us.

Fly me to the moon... let me play among the stars...

At the last note, the room burst into applause, but Merida leaned in and kissed me right there, in front of everyone. The café roared with cheers.

Later, when the lights dimmed and the last guests waved goodbye, we sat outside beneath the stars.

“You didn’t have to prove anything tonight,” she said, placing her hand over mine. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But I wanted to. For Fedrick. For you. For this little world we’ve built.”

“Then let’s make it ours, forever.”

I smiled, then hesitated. “Can we sit a little longer? Here in the moonlight? Just you and me.”

Merida nodded, resting her head on my shoulder. “Always, my love.”

The night wrapped around us like a warm blanket, soft and unhurried.

Eventually, I walked back home, heart light, soul full.

And there they were, Millie and Romeo, waiting like suspicious parents. The moment I retired to the chair after a magnificent kiss.

Millie leapt up onto my chest the moment I reclined, purring like a lawn mower. Romeo strutted in, sniffed my shoes with disdain, then yawned wide enough to swallow a mouse whole.

“Had a good date?” he seemed to ask.

I chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

Millie blinked lazily. Romeo let out a slow, deep sigh, like he was jealous I wasn’t serenading him.

But he said You look, man.

I scratched their ears, letting their warmth sink into me.

“Goodnight, you little drama king & queen.”

They purred louder.

The moon peeked in through the window, soft and knowing. Somewhere across the cobbled streets, Merida sang faintly from her room, Fly me to the moon…

And at that moment, I knew I didn’t just belong to this town or this café.

I belonged to her. To this life.

And, apparently, to two very judgmental but loyal cats.

Heheheh

Goodnight everyone…

JacobM