She nodded. “Si . . . I mean, yes.”

“I’m so very sorry.” Joy pointed to herself. “My name is Joy, and I’m working for Dina and Vito.”

“Yes. Mia Zia Dina told me about you. Oh, I mean my Aunt Dina, sorry. I just had to thank such a thoughtful person. I am Veronica.”

“It’s my pleasure to help those in need. So Dina is your aunt?”

Veronica giggled. “No. It’s confusing, I know. She and my mother are very close friends . . . almost like sisters, so I have called her my Zia all my life.”

“I love that. Family is everything.”

In the corner of the garden, Alessandro and some men were discussing something rather loudly in Italian. They gestured wildly as they spoke. As their voices rose, Joy crinkled her face.

“What are they arguing about? They seem very angry.” Joy asked.

Veronica watched the men for a second. “Oh, they are not arguing. They are simply discussing their favorite football, er, soccer teams.”

Joy’s eyes widened.

“Alessandro’s team lost, and he is explaining why. The other men disagree with his analysis.” Veronica shrugged. “Italian men care very deeply about soccer.”

“I guess so.”

“Beh, time to go.” Dina waved at Joy. “Andiamo.”

“I guess we are leaving now.” Veronica nodded. “Good to meet you. Ciao.”

“Ciao.” Joy smiled.

“The family has asked to have lunch at our farm in Caorle. Would you like to come?” Alessandro asked Joy.

“Well . . .” Joy spotted Angelina glaring at her.

Alessandro placed his palm on his forehead. “Scusi. I forgot you were going to Murano to see the glass factory.”

Joy shook her head. “Oh, I can visit the factory tomorrow. Lunch with your family sounds wonderful.”

“Bene. You can meet my children. They are at the house. I would be honored if you join us.” He bowed, then gently guided her to the boat where others were finding their seats. “We’ll take the boats to Caorle Beach and then my brother will pick us up in the van to take us to the farm.”

“Wonderful.” Using his hand, Joy stepped into the boat next to Dina.

Ahead of her, Angelina continued to glare at Joy with a fake smile plastered on her face. She sat in the next boat.

“Don’t pay attention to her.” Dina shook her head. “She is like a mean cat. Did you see her nails? They are like claws.”

“I guess.”

“You know the lovely windows of Venice?” Dina asked.

“Yes?”

“She is like a dirty window. It never lets the light shine through.”

Joy covered her mouth, trying not to giggle.

The boats sped off along the lagoon and turned toward Caorle Beach in the distance.

The air through her hair revitalized her. The mist from the waves freshened her face. Joy closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled the scent.

But the wakes from the other boats speeding past made waves she didn’t expect. Nausea hit her belly as hard as the waves hit the side of the boat. She inhaled and exhaled, hoping to keep from being sick. She could imagine Angelina laughing at that.

Soon the boats docked in the port at the beach. Joy disembarked and grabbed a wooden post. Leaning on it, she desperately tried to catch her breath and calm her stomach. The motionless dry land was a godsend.

“Are you all right, Joy?” Alessandro asked.

“Yes.” She straightened and adjusted her hair with her hands.

“Some wine will help settle your stomach,” Dina suggested.

The group walked through the quaint coastal town as tourists passed by. Caorle Beach reminded Joy of small towns in Florida she had visited with friends.

“This is lovely.” She pointed to the nearby bell tower.

“It is a very old coastal town that tourists and locals love.” Alessandro pointed to the town. “We try to vacation here each year. Especially when the children were little . . .” A faraway look came to his face.

Joy suspected he was imagining his late wife, Anna.

The honk of a horn startled them.

“Benvenuto!” came a shout from one of the approaching vehicles.

Joy’s mouth dropped. Two large vans pulled up. More like small buses than vans, each one had enough for twelve people to sit in window seats.

“These are the vans?” she asked Dina.

“Impressionante, sì?” Dina replied.

“Very impressive.” Joy walked over to a van.

“Benvenuto, mi amici,” the driver said and waved to Joy to enter his van.

“My brother, Calogero Giuseppe, but we call him Charlie.” Alessandro nodded to the driver.

“Hello. Ciao,” Joy said to him.

The two men conversed for a moment, and then Alessandro turned to Joy. “My brother wanted to know who you were. I explained that you are a friend of Dina’s.”