some of the windows across the canal. Which one was the lace maker's room?
Apparently no clues to Cruz's absence were found on the boat, and we headed upstairs to the condo.
"Kyle, don't you have any luggage? How long are you staying?"
"We're heading to Venice in the morning, Cruz or no Cruz."
"We?"
"Yeah, I thought it would be fun. If the missing movie star shows up, we're scheduled to do the last retakes. If he doesn't, well, we can have lunch with Carolyn and Roberto. My stuff is in the car. I'll need a change of clothes, but I'm parked at the curb. Now that I have the key, let me check Cruz's bedroom and see if I come up with anything. I'll shave then we can go to my favorite trattoria . You're in for a treat. The best fish ever. They say Chioggia is well known for the daily catch. Restaurants from as far away as Bologna send their people here early in the morning to wait for the fishermen to arrive so they can get first pick. Okay, so let's get ready. Oh, wait. I’ll check the room and call Roberto. He's very concerned."
He unlocked Cruz's room and went in. I sat on my bed, trying to decide whether to change for dinner and sending mental thanks to the universe that my son hadn't asked me about Larry yet. I needed to process all of Larry's latest news on my own first.
He didn’t mention finding anything out of the ordinary in Cruz’s room and said so to Roberto.
The trattoria 's owners recognized Kyle—not because of the movies but because he ate there often when staying in Chioggia. They went out of their way to gain the approval of the Italian mamma. I didn't have to pretend. The meal was superb and tasted homemade, the best kind there is.
The next morning I waited to hear Kyle moving around the condo before leaving my room. The poor kid slept in a very small room with a single bed, I assume he let me use his. I found him in the kitchen making coffee. " Buongiorno , Mamma. We'll need to hit the road soon, so we can have coffee then wait to eat until we get to Venice. But if you prefer, we can have Augusta send something up. There isn't much in the refrigerator. You decide."
"Coffee sounds perfect. Look at you, dressed like—" I stared at his Levi's, sneakers, and Polo Ralph Lauren Henley. Really?
"Like the wholesome kid next door," he finished my sentence.
"Yeah, now that you mention it."
"Have to, by contract. Feeding the perception Italians have of the nice young American boy. I feel like I'm back in high school, or maybe a prep school dropout. Good old Ralphie boy." He tugged at his shirt, shook his head, and poured the steaming coffee into our small cups.
"How are we getting to Venice?"
"We'll take my car. The studio has a reserved spot at Garage San Marco, and from there we go by the hotel water taxi. You better take everything you brought with you; we may not come back here."
"Oh." I had mixed feelings about that—part of me happy to get away from Cruz and Augusta, the other part lamenting the missed opportunity to fully reacquaint myself with this charming little town.
By nine thirty that morning we left the medieval Porta di Santa Maria behind and headed toward Venice. In a sense I was traveling the same road I had with Pia, only in reverse.
"What happens when we get to Venice?" In a few hours Larry will leave for the airport.
"I have to meet with Carolyn and Roberto at the Century Palace. Cruz keeps a suite there. We'll probably have breakfast or lunch and get an update. You know, I forgot to tell you. Since Cruz got caught with that woman coming out of the hotel, paparazzi hang around the place hoping to get lucky. You want to put on lipstick or something?"
"What, what? Cruz getting caught, paparazzi, lipstick? How about you tell me the whole story. We have time."
"My mom wants to hear about gossip." He snickered. "How about that? You need to understand that Cruz is a…nice fellow, but he is or can be…peculiar."
"You don't say."
"Why? Did he do something bizarre around
Apparently no clues to Cruz's absence were found on the boat, and we headed upstairs to the condo.
"Kyle, don't you have any luggage? How long are you staying?"
"We're heading to Venice in the morning, Cruz or no Cruz."
"We?"
"Yeah, I thought it would be fun. If the missing movie star shows up, we're scheduled to do the last retakes. If he doesn't, well, we can have lunch with Carolyn and Roberto. My stuff is in the car. I'll need a change of clothes, but I'm parked at the curb. Now that I have the key, let me check Cruz's bedroom and see if I come up with anything. I'll shave then we can go to my favorite trattoria . You're in for a treat. The best fish ever. They say Chioggia is well known for the daily catch. Restaurants from as far away as Bologna send their people here early in the morning to wait for the fishermen to arrive so they can get first pick. Okay, so let's get ready. Oh, wait. I’ll check the room and call Roberto. He's very concerned."
He unlocked Cruz's room and went in. I sat on my bed, trying to decide whether to change for dinner and sending mental thanks to the universe that my son hadn't asked me about Larry yet. I needed to process all of Larry's latest news on my own first.
He didn’t mention finding anything out of the ordinary in Cruz’s room and said so to Roberto.
The trattoria 's owners recognized Kyle—not because of the movies but because he ate there often when staying in Chioggia. They went out of their way to gain the approval of the Italian mamma. I didn't have to pretend. The meal was superb and tasted homemade, the best kind there is.
The next morning I waited to hear Kyle moving around the condo before leaving my room. The poor kid slept in a very small room with a single bed, I assume he let me use his. I found him in the kitchen making coffee. " Buongiorno , Mamma. We'll need to hit the road soon, so we can have coffee then wait to eat until we get to Venice. But if you prefer, we can have Augusta send something up. There isn't much in the refrigerator. You decide."
"Coffee sounds perfect. Look at you, dressed like—" I stared at his Levi's, sneakers, and Polo Ralph Lauren Henley. Really?
"Like the wholesome kid next door," he finished my sentence.
"Yeah, now that you mention it."
"Have to, by contract. Feeding the perception Italians have of the nice young American boy. I feel like I'm back in high school, or maybe a prep school dropout. Good old Ralphie boy." He tugged at his shirt, shook his head, and poured the steaming coffee into our small cups.
"How are we getting to Venice?"
"We'll take my car. The studio has a reserved spot at Garage San Marco, and from there we go by the hotel water taxi. You better take everything you brought with you; we may not come back here."
"Oh." I had mixed feelings about that—part of me happy to get away from Cruz and Augusta, the other part lamenting the missed opportunity to fully reacquaint myself with this charming little town.
By nine thirty that morning we left the medieval Porta di Santa Maria behind and headed toward Venice. In a sense I was traveling the same road I had with Pia, only in reverse.
"What happens when we get to Venice?" In a few hours Larry will leave for the airport.
"I have to meet with Carolyn and Roberto at the Century Palace. Cruz keeps a suite there. We'll probably have breakfast or lunch and get an update. You know, I forgot to tell you. Since Cruz got caught with that woman coming out of the hotel, paparazzi hang around the place hoping to get lucky. You want to put on lipstick or something?"
"What, what? Cruz getting caught, paparazzi, lipstick? How about you tell me the whole story. We have time."
"My mom wants to hear about gossip." He snickered. "How about that? You need to understand that Cruz is a…nice fellow, but he is or can be…peculiar."
"You don't say."
"Why? Did he do something bizarre around
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