“Not to me. Does it matter to you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m not very Catholic.”
She smiled at him for the first time since they’d gotten into the gondola. “I’m not very religious either. My family is not Orthodox or anything.”
“If we see each other would your parents be upset?”
Irit looked at him with her gorgeous eyes. “Probably.”
“Does that matter?”
“A little.”
“Are we going to see each other?”
She shrugged. “That’s up to you. You’ve gotten two surprises today, and I doubt you liked either one very much. It will depend on you, I think.”
Vialli sat in turmoil. “Why didn’t you tell me from the first?”
“I don’t know. I just thought you would find me more interesting if I were Italian. Being Israeli can be quite a burden.”
Vialli considered what he had just heard. “I want to see you again.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Two people who love Italy who aren’t from Italy? We’re perfect for each other.” He watched the boats that passed the other way.
Woods caught his eye. With an immediate exchange of looks Woods asked him if everything was okay, and Vialli told him things were fine. Woods focused his attention back on the sights.
Vialli spoke. “When am I going to see you again?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Where is your next port?”
“Naples I think, but it’s not for a couple of weeks.”
“I’ll be back home by then.”
He breathed in sharply. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know.”
“I know. Most good things aren’t.”
He nodded. “We’re gonna be in Israel in about a month.”
“I know. You told me.”
“I guess that will be it. Our next chance to be together.” He thought for a moment. “And after that, I won’t see you again before we head back to the States unless you can meet me somewhere.”
“I’d like to see you sooner.” She pursed her lips. “I’m going to miss you.”
He leaned over and kissed her gently. She kissed him back.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
She looked at him curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. You’re so… together. You aren’t like all the silly girls I’ve dated. You’re just… different.”
She smiled but said nothing. “I need to get back.”
“You just got here.” He sat up straight as if he had just thought of something. “I’d like you to meet the guys. Want to walk with me to the hotel where we’re staying?”
“I don’t have time.”
“Sure you do.”
The gondola came to a gentle stop where they had started. They climbed out and walked to a café at the corner of the square. They sat down at a worn wooden table, grateful for the warmth.
“What’ll you have?” Vialli asked.
“Cappuccino for me,” Woods said enthusiastically.
Vialli looked at Irit. She shook her head. “I have to get going. I need to get the train back to Trento. I didn’t really even have time for this morning, but I’m glad I came.” She stood up and adjusted her coat with her left hand.
“You sure?” Vialli asked.
She nodded. “Send me an e-mail when you know where you’ll be next. We’ll see if there’s some way to get together.”
“Sure,” he said. He was dying at the idea of her walking away. “Are you going to the train station?”
“Yes. I have about an hour to get there.”
“I’ll walk you,” he said, deciding suddenly. “Okay with you?” he asked Woods.
“Sure. I’m going to go to the admin. I’ll probably just crash. I’m beat.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. You going to come back here or go to the ship?”
“I’ll meet you back at the admin.”
“Okay,” Woods said. He finished his coffee quickly and put the cup down softly on the saucer, then looked for the waiter to order another. “It was nice to see you again,” he said to Irit.
She averted his gaze. “Did you hear what I told Tony?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said, not giving her the complete forgiveness she expected.
“There’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled.
Vialli watched Irit, thankful for the opportunity to observe her as she talked to someone else. “I’ll see you in a while,” he said to Woods, walking out with his arm around her.
“Bye,” she said to Woods as they went through the door.
Vialli took her left hand in his and they walked down the street toward an arching bridge that rose up over a canal. He stopped on the bridge and said, “What time is your train?”
“One o’clock.”
“We’ve still got forty-five minutes. How far away is the train station?”
“It’s a pretty good walk.”
He put one hand on the bridge rail and looked past her. He knew he had to bring it up again. “You could see I was shocked,” he said.
“Sure.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing to be sorry about. It happens.”
“I expected better of myself.”
“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me now out of pity or something. Like now. You held my hand. Why?”
Vialli was pierced. “Because I care. Why do you think?”
“So you can show me you’re not holding it against me. And so you can think better of yourself.”
“Come on, Irit. Give me some credit.” He was growing frustrated. He couldn’t say anything right. “I really do care for you. I haven’t felt like this before,” he blurted.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known.” He turned toward her and touched her face. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, tentatively, unsure of himself, not about how he felt, but about how she would respond. He was afraid. He broke off the kiss before it became a commitment. He kept his face next to hers and put his hands on her waist. She put her hands on his waist at the same time. The bridge was deserted. There was no one to be seen along the road. Two gondolas made their way under the bridge in opposite directions but took no notice of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Enough of that. We have to get past it,” she said softly.
He kissed her again and felt her warmth as she pressed against him. He was glad not to have to explain himself anymore. She understood and didn’t hold it against him. She was remarkable. She had forgiven him at a level beyond where he was entitled to it. He kissed her deeply. He put his arms around her and held her tightly as he kissed her, his desire for her growing with every moment.
“We need to get to the train station.”
“Stay the night, here in Venice,” he pleaded.
“I can’t.”
“Why not? You said you weren’t working, what’s the hurry?”
“I just can’t.”
He leaned back and looked into her eyes. “Why?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“Why not? What could you possibly not tell me about?”
“It’s personal.”
He studied her. “You still don’t trust me.”
“I absolutely do.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“I want to spend more time with you. This just isn’t good enough. There’s so much to say.” He kissed her again. “There’s so much to do.”
“I know. Next time. I promise. I have to go. Come to the train with me. Ride the train with me,” she said suddenly.
“What? I can’t go to Trento.”
“No, just buy a ticket to one of the stops on the way, then get off, and ride the next one back. You’ll be back in a couple of hours, and we can sit together for a while in the warm compartment. Maybe we’ll have one to ourselves…” She smiled as she took his hand.