go,” Vanessa seemed to have forgotten what mood she was in a couple of minutes ago. Her mood changed more often than the weather in their city, but Louis was already used to it. The weather, in contrast to her mood, was wonderful, the sun was shining brightly and her husband grabbed her a straw hat with wide brims and a ribbon so that the wind would not blow the headdress away. After sitting on a bench in silence and silence for half an hour, they got up and walked towards the Gadini restaurant to drink coffee. They quickly finished their meal at the restaurant and returned to the square to take the car to the museum.
The museum that Louis suggested going to was the Capuchin Museum, Vanessa had heard something about it, but she was not able to visit it, and she was glad that her husband would give her a tour there. The museum was called the Catacombs of the Capuchins and consisted of long galleries, the only inhabitants of which were the dead. This burial dates back to the founding of the order and at first only monks were buried there, but then, with the permission of the archbishop, they began to bury benefactors, aristocrats, representatives of noble families, famous and honorable people, citizens of Palermo.
“It’s amazing that you remember my desire to visit this museum,” Vanessa said to her husband while they were driving.
Louis smiled and replied:
– Of course, I remember, especially that you were interested in the story of the little girl who was buried there, and I myself became interested.
They finally arrived, parked the car in the parking lot and bought tickets.
When they entered, a terrifying sight met their eyes, on the one hand, but on the other, it was so touching, because their relatives came here to these people and could visit and talk with them, showing deep affection for family traditions. The crypts had a special microclimate due to the fact that Sicily was of volcanic origin. And that is why dead people did not decompose. However, the sight was not for the faint of heart: empty eye sockets, withered bones with hair on their heads were dressed in clothes, some in elegant suits and dresses, others in simple clothes. Some people were changed by relatives several times a year.
Vanessa took Louis by the hand so that the picture he saw would not be so creepy, but anxiety reigned inside. She especially wanted to look at the tiny girl, whose story shook her to the core.
Among all these people, and there were about 8,000 of them, lay a girl who died at the age of 2 from pneumonia and the girl’s father, heartbroken, found a doctor, whom he persuaded to embalm the child in such a way that the charming features would not decompose over time.. When they approached the child, they saw a girl with hair and eyelashes, intact soft tissues and did not look at all like a dead girl, rather like a sleeping beauty. Vanessa began to have thoughts, and she decided to share them with her husband.
“Louis,” she turned to him.
He looked at her, squeezed her hand tighter and asked:
– Everything is fine?
– Yes, everything is fine, but I had thoughts while we were walking among these people.
– What thoughts?
“When the hour strikes for me to meet the creator in heaven,” she began.
– Vanessa! – Louis’s tone made it clear that he did not like the topic that his wife had raised, she looked at him and said:
– Please listen to the end without interrupting me. It is very important. When I give my soul, I don’t know to God or the Devil, I want to look like this girl, even after many years I want to maintain my beauty, you can arrange it, I know.
Louis looked at her and regretted that he decided to bring her here, now it became clear to him why she had wanted to visit this museum for so long, to see what this girl looked like, and, apparently, to make him promise to fulfill her last wish.
– Are you serious, Vanessa?
– Yes, seriously, and also…
– What else?
– I want our graves to be nearby and in this cemetery, you will tell our girls about this, won’t you?
– Are you going to die? – he asked sharply.
– No, it’s just a wish.
“Your wishes are nice, I promise to think about it, let’s go to the car.”
Louis pulled his hand and walked towards the exit. Vanessa remained standing next to the girl in upset feelings. Five minutes passed, and Louis returned for her.
“Vanessa, let’s go,” he called.
“I’m coming,” she cast a farewell glance at the child in the coffin and followed him out.
Then he did not attach due importance to this conversation, although he thought about it for some time.
Louis was a man of broad views on life and human possibilities. Therefore, when two grandchildren began to live in their villa, he observed them, what they liked, and asked questions. This is how time passed with the family. Louis carefully observed the children and their passions. He himself was a wine collector and spent a lot of time with winemakers. Sometimes I took my grandson to such meetings. He did not insist that the boy’s professional activity be somehow connected with wine, because he believed that everyone could choose their own occupation. Once after such a meeting they had an interesting dialogue.
– How do you like the wine? Have you revealed its taste, what bouquet?
– I think that this wine was aged in oak barrels and that’s why it has such a tart taste and grandma wouldn’t like it.
Louis hugged his grandson and ruffled his hair.
– You’re right Pierre, it’s not so elegant that grandma will like it. But you’re great, your passion for wine is bearing fruit. Would you like to create something like this?
Pierre winced and said:
– I believe that it is better to sell wine than to produce it, especially since our mother is engaged in this. And I want to help her with this.
– Yes, you’re right, my little friend, and how do you see it?
– I want to be like you!
– Like me? – Louis laughed, – well, it’s necessary! I never thought that someone would want to be like me.
– You are strong, smart, I want to be like that too!
– You will have to study a lot for this, are you ready for this? – Grandfather asked, squatting down.
“Ready,” the grandson said confidently.
With that, they got into the car and drove home.
Melisande and Pierre-Martin were very different people, despite their close relationship. Everyone chose an activity based on their desires, especially since their grandparents always supported them. Melisande was fond of drawing since childhood, and her favorite pastime was to lie in front of the fireplace on the carpet and draw, dangling her legs in the air. Louis did not approve of this, and therefore she only did this when she was with Vanessa. The interior of the house was in the classicism style of Louis the Sixteenth, after whom the owner of the villa was named. When Vanessa saw her granddaughter’s drawings, she suggested that Louis send the girl to an art school so that she could develop her talent. This conversation took place over one of the dinners. That evening they celebrated the successful completion of a transaction, many dishes were prepared, and the grandfather allowed his grandson to choose the wine.
– Well, Pierre, let’s check what you’ve learned so far? Go to the cellar and bring the wine that you think will best complement our dinner.
Pierre left and Vanessa said:
– You know, I think that we need to send our granddaughter