"Unleash your creativity and unlock your potential with MsgBrains.Com - the innovative platform for nurturing your intellect." » » "The Windows of Venice" by R.A. Douthitt's

Add to favorite "The Windows of Venice" by R.A. Douthitt's

Select the language in which you want the text you are reading to be translated, then select the words you don't know with the cursor to get the translation above the selected word!




Go to page:
Text Size:

“That’s great, Mom. I know you’ll help him. He’s crushed.”

“I saw him today. I must admit, he does look rather . . . pathetic.”

Silence.

“I mean, tragically hurt.” Joy regretted using the word pathetic, even if the adjective fit. “I know he loved Tiffany.”

“It is tragic. Anyway, I know you’ll lift his spirits. How’s Venice? Should we consider it as a honeymoon destination?”

“I believe you should. It is lovely. So many sights to see. The water, the architecture, the museums. You’ll love it.” She imagined herself walking with Alessandro by the flowers on his farm. “So lovely.”

“What are you going to wear?”

Joy’s mind returned to the black blouse and striped wide-leg pants on the bed. “Nothing fancy. Just those wide-legged pants you gave me. They are so comfy.”

“Good.”

She could almost hear Jaime smile.

“You’ll look pretty. Oh, and maybe a gondola ride after dinner?”

Joy grinned and shook her head. “I suppose if one is available to—”

“Dad already booked tickets.” Jaime gasped. “Oh, shoot. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

Joy’s heart skipped a beat, but not from excitement. From anger. “Oh, he did, did he?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Mom. He means well. He isn’t trying to manipulate you or anything.”

Uh-huh, Joy thought. She knew Tony well enough. “Well, I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”

“Can’t wait to hear about it.”

After running a brush through her medium-length brown hair, spraying her bangs in place with hairspray, and putting on simple silver earrings, Joy headed out the door.

Loud conversations echoed through the hotel halls. Joy looked left, then right. A few guests peeked out and chatted.

“What’s going on?” Joy asked.

“Flood alert,” a man said as he passed by.

Flood alert? A bit of panic rushed through Joy.

“Don’t worry. It happens all the time. Do you have your boots?” a woman said, pointing to Joy’s bag.

“Boots?”

The woman smiled, then walked off toward the elevator.

In a panic, Joy rushed down the stairs and toward the concierge’s desk in the lobby.

But before she could ask about the flooding, Tony approached carrying two pairs of bright orange booties that tourists used to cover their shoes during flooding.

“Here you go.” He handed her a pair.

“Hey.” Joy stared at him in wonder. “How did you—”

“I read about the sporadic flooding of Venice and bought these the other day.” He sat on a bench in the lobby and put his booties over his shoes.

Joy joined him. “I had no idea I’d need these.”

“It mostly floods in the spring and fall months.” He chuckled. “And it’s sort of a rite of passage to experience it as a tourist.”

Tourists all around them rushed into the hotel lobby to sit and slip on their booties over their shoes so they could resume their walks through Venice.

“Here.” Tony crouched down before Joy. “Let me help you.”

With gentle hands she’d long forgotten, Tony placed each bootie over her shoes. Joy watched him carefully adjust the bootie over each foot before raising them to her calves.

“They fit.” He looked up at her with smiling eyes.

“They sure do.”

He stood, then took her hand. “Here we go.”

Together they braved the flooded piazza on their way to the restaurant at the Hotel Metropole. Because the water reached above their ankles as they waded through, Joy had to hold her pants legs up. Tourists stood in the piazza and took photos of themselves in the water as well as the nearby basilica.

“It’s cold,” Joy said as she waded through the water.

“There’s a walkway that leads us out of the water.” Tony pointed. “This way.”

He squeezed her hand as he led her through the growing crowd.

The familiarity of her hand in his comforted Joy.

As they walked, he spoke of Milan, Tuscany, and the train to Venice. He described the countryside so vividly, it was like being there.

“And the food. Don’t get me started.” He shook his head. “The best.”

Joy just listened.

“How was Rome? Jaime told me how much she enjoyed it.”

“It was magical.” The memories made her smile. “And the food . . .”

“I bet.” Tony gestured. “We should take the train to Rome for a day visit. Spend the whole day seeing the sites.”

Joy shrugged. “I’ve already seen it.”

Are sens