Rob, who’d looked at nothing but road signs while Hailey and I marveled at the beauty of terraced vineyards and hilltop castles, pulled the rental car along the river’s edge.
“We’re almost there,” I said. My anticipation had mounted with each kilometer that brought us closer to my mother’s childhood home. I was not prepared to stop.
“I know, but I saw a sign for the L-O-R…” He pressed his lips together. We could no longer get away with spelling our messages to one another.
I gasped and he laughed. “Really?” I said.
“What’s a lor?” Hailey said.
Rob opened the driver’s side door. “What d’you say, El? We can look for the house in the morning, after we’ve had a good night’s sleep. And right now, maybe go see you-know-what? Get a family photo?” I knew he was right; the sun had already started its descent, casting a tangerine sheen over the pastel houses lining the road. Behind them, small stone buildings, high church spires, and plush trees climbed the hillside.
I threw my impatience to the ground, got out of the car, and stomped on it a few times.
Hailey asked, “What’s a lor?”
Rob took her hand and stepped onto a path following the river. “Your mother is going to tell you about the Lorelei.”
Hailey looked up at me.
“The Lorelei is an enchanted rock. They say a beautiful maiden waits at the top. She sings for sailors in order to lure them to —” I searched the sky for a way to explain this to a seven-year-old “— to make their boats crash.” That didn’t come out quite right.
“It’s kind of...
Subscribe now to keep reading
Please enter your email to log in or create a new account.