Everyone at the table applauded, and the young women walked away gripping the papers with glee.
“Satisfied?” Angelina held out her hands.
Everyone clapped again.
With a full belly and full heart, Joy knew it was time to go. She stepped out of the restaurant and inhaled the cool air with Alessandro close behind. The sun lowered behind the buildings and cast longer shadows.
Light rain fell, so Joy removed a poncho from her purse and unfolded it.
“Here, let me help you.” Alessandro helped place the poncho over her head and gently smoothed the plastic over her shoulders. “There you go.”
Joy’s eyes met his, and her knees weakened. “Thank you, Alessandro. I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“Please.” He placed his hand over his heart. “You may call me Alex.”
“Alex.” Joy smiled. A rush of warmth ran over her when she looked into his kind eyes. The tiny wrinkles that formed on the outside of his eyes when he smiled tickled her. “Thank you for an exquisite dinner experience. And I mean, that was quite the experience too.”
“It is a unique dining adventure, that is for sure.” He returned her smile, then watched the rain fall. “Shall I walk you to your hotel from here? It is not very far.”
“I’d like that.” She took hold of his extended arm.
They strolled through the neighborhood, along a quaint canal, crossing bridges. As they walked, Alessandro reminisced about his childhood and his passion for flower gardening in Caorle, while Joy delighted in their shared interests and the openness he showed her.
“I credit my grandmother. She instilled a love of flowers in me by teaching me how to garden,” he explained. “You see, she showed me how the seed must break open and die in order for the flower to grow and bloom.”
“Yes.”
“It is the same for us as well, yes?” Alessandro shook his head. “God tells us this in His word.”
“Exactly.”
“But not many of us desire to be broken, no?”
Joy listened and thought about her own grandmother’s life lessons.
“Her backyard was a half-acre garden paradise,” Alessandro continued. “I can still see it in my mind.”
Joy turned to him. “My grandmother had a large backyard too. I’d run through it, imagining myself in the English countryside or in some imaginary land.”
“Sounds like a wonderful childhood memory for you.”
“It really was.”
“My father inspired me to farm.” Alessandro smiled proudly. “He could have chosen a career in the military, but instead he returned home to help the family business. He, too, taught me all that he knew about flowers.”
They continued in silence. The only sound was the rain on her poncho, the conversations of passersby, and the bells tolling in the distance. Tourists hastily made their way back to their hotels or to cafés to wait out the rain.
The fresh, clean scent of rain permeated the air, reminding Joy of home.
“I’m used to strolling in the rain. It rains a lot in upstate New York in the spring and summer months.” The drizzle slowed enough for Joy to remove the poncho.
“This way.” He led her to a canopy over the front door of a shop.
She smoothed out her hair, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “So how many children did you and Anna have?”
He continued to watch the light rain coming down like mist. “We have two children. Gianna, our daughter. And Rocco, our son. He does not like having an older sister.”
“You speak excellent English, by the way.” Joy squirmed. “Sorry if that came across as—”
“Not at all. I worked for the U.S. Navy in Naples for a few years. That’s where I learned English. Anna and I married after that, and we taught English to our children. Gianna lives in London right now. She works in finance.”
Joy furrowed her brow. “She didn’t want to work in the family business in Caorle?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but on the financial side. She handles the financial needs for the family business. She is brilliant. We are so proud of her.”
“That’s wonderful. And Rocco?”
“He helps at the farm. He is a civil engineer and has restructured the farm beautifully. The three-hundred-year-old house and barn needed remodeling, he assessed all the risks on the property, and actually saved us much money.”
“I can’t even imagine. So much work goes into running a farm, right? I don’t know how you do it.” Joy held out her hand. “The rain has stopped. I suppose I should return to my hotel.”
Alessandro motioned for her to walk, and when she did, he gently touched the small of her back. Chills raced through Joy. The gentle touch of a man was as foreign to her as the Venetian customs.
“This way we cross over a quaint footbridge. Come.” He led her to a bridge that overlooked a smaller canal.
“This is lovely.”
