“After what Nigel did to her heart, Ginger, let’s pray this Frenchman doesn’t end up breaking it.”
There were a lot of ways a heart could be broken, as all three women had found out. Ginger had been trying hard not to dwell on the fact that in losing her husband, she had lost her chance of happiness. There’d never be a man she could love as she had Bruce. Thanks to his death, Ginger hadn’t had the chance to have children. It had raised the fear that she might never have them, not without a remarkable husband. Ginger couldn’t believe one existed.
Being an only child, Ginger had longed to raise a family with Bruce. They’d talked about it from the beginning, but his death had ended that hope.
Perish the thought of meeting a man she could fall in love with a second time. If something ghastly were to happen to him, Ginger knew she’d never be able to handle it. Ginger shivered as the image of Signor Della Scalla passed through her mind.
On Zoe’s mournful note, they drove on. By the evening they’d arrived back in Venice and had checked in at the Hotel Arlecchino. It was one of the hotels where you could park a car in their garage.
They immediately began exploring the area called Frezzeria, a part of Venice where Byron had lived above a merchant’s textile shop. It was no wonder the poet had chosen to stay here. This was one of the most famous districts of the city and included the Piazza San Marco with its cluster of restaurants, shops and museums frequented by the glitterati of Venice. Perhaps some detail would come to light they could send on to the writers working on Magda’s film.
But the next morning, Zoe broke down and was honest with Ginger. “Venice is fabulous, but as long as I have a little more free time before going back to California, Greece is where I want to be.”
Zoe had fallen in love with Greece, but Ginger knew something else more important was propelling her to go back. So far, Zoe hadn’t told Ginger what was really on her mind. That was all right. Ginger had been entertaining a few private thoughts about the gorgeous Italian that didn’t bear scrutiny.
“I understand completely, Zoe. The trouble is, I hated leaving Venice when I was here before. Now I have a chance to finish up some more research for Magda’s project.” Maybe she’d find that Father Giovanni was back at the monastery.
“Thanks for understanding.” Zoe immediately phoned the airline to make a reservation for an evening flight. After dinner Ginger drove her to the San Marco airport in their rental car. They pulled up outside the terminal. “I wish you’d come to Greece with me, Ginger.”
“After I finish up my research here, I’ll probably fly to Athens and join you. I know you loved it there and it was hard for you to leave.”
“Only time will tell. Are you sure you’re all right if I leave you?”
“Positive. Who knows?” Father Giovanni still might not be there. “I could be joining you sooner than you think.”
“I’d love that,” Zoe exclaimed before getting out of the car with her suitcase.
Ginger smiled at her. “Text me when you arrive so I’ll know you got there safely.”
“You know I will. Enjoy Venice to your heart’s content. Before long we’ll all be back in class lecturing again and dreaming about days like this.”
At the moment Ginger couldn’t comprehend being anywhere else but here. She watched until Zoe disappeared, then she headed back to the hotel to park the car.
As she passed the front desk at the hotel, Ginger made arrangements to visit Burano, a place Byron loved for its color. The film being made on Byron would be enriched by some scenes from there. After she got back to her room, Ginger had a surprise phone call from Abby.
“Abby? Hey—what are you doing phoning this late?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m flying to Venice tomorrow and will try to plan a flight that fits in with your and Zoe’s schedule.”
“You’re not staying in Burgundy?”
Ginger heard Abby release a shuddering sigh. “No.”
“So the ‘come and see my notebook’ thing turned out not to be for real.”
“Actually there was a notebook with a poem, but it wasn’t an authentic signature of Byron’s.”
“But he really had something to show you?”
“Yes. I met his grandparents and they showed it to me.”
“Then he was on the level.”
“Yes.”
“You sound odd. Are you okay? What’s going on with you two?”
“It’s been a very full day with a funeral and a dinner. He’s a very important man. Don’t let me keep you up any longer. Shall I come early or late? You’d better check with Zoe.”
“She’s not here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zoe decided to fly to Greece early, so I took her to the airport this evening and now I have the car. Tomorrow is Sunday and I’m going to Burano Island for a couple of days. I’ve already paid for travel and the hotel room for two nights on a special deal. Why don’t you check flights for Tuesday and I’ll meet you whenever you say?”
Ginger heard a hesitation, then, “That sounds fine. I’ll call you Tuesday and we’ll plan from there.”
“Perfect.”
Ginger realized something had gone wrong with Abby’s plans. What a shame for her.
The next morning Ginger left on a water bus for Burano and explored the island. The bright colors of the houses were remarkable, and she was glad she had come. After another productive day, Ginger returned to the hotel in Venice, tired and happy.
The next evening, she was getting ready for bed when she received a text from Abby rather than a phone call.
I won’t be flying to meet you after all. Maybe you should be sitting down. Raoul and I are going to be married in two days in a civil ceremony. We don’t want to wait. I adore him and I know it’s forever. We’ll have a church service later on and I hope you and Zoe will be able to come. I promise to tell you everything later. Love, Abby
Ginger read the text three times. How absolutely amazing and wonderful for their friend. Zoe would have received a text, too. But Ginger was worried for Abby. Wasn’t she nervous about getting married so fast when her engagement to Nigel had ended so painfully?
Abby hadn’t even known that Nigel was married and had children back in England. Now she was going to marry a Frenchman after such a short period of knowing him? It sounded very scary to Ginger. But at the same time she had to admire their friend who’d decided to take the plunge anyway and not let fear prevent her from following her heart.
Ginger got up from the side of the bed, realizing that’s what she was doing, following her heart by wanting to return to the monastery. Of course, she desired to talk with Father Giovanni, but she now knew he was friends with Signor Della Scalla. The monk was her link to the dark-haired stranger who’d mesmerized her.
She could still hear what he’d whispered. “Alla prossima, signora.” Did he really hope to see her again? After asking her to spend another day with him, Ginger had to believe it.
Her heart pounded painfully to imagine seeing him again. The possibility gave Ginger the impetus to follow through with her plan. Abby’s decision had given her a little more daring.
By the next morning Ginger was up early to drink coffee and eat a roll, unable to sleep any longer. She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror.
Today she teamed a short-sleeved pink-and-white-striped blouse with a summery white skirt. After putting a small notebook in her purse, she left the hotel at nine thirty and took