Sudden Pleasures

soon as you can get us on the plane,' Ryan said.

They departed Kennedy two nights later. They had checked one bag each onto the plane. Ashley carried only her handbag on board, and Ryan brought nothing on the plane but a small book on Venetian furniture. They took off their shoes, which were carefully inspected, walked through a metal detector, put their footwear back on, and picked up the book and the handbag. They were then allowed to board. She was glad she didn't have to do a lot of flying these days. It was getting to be more and more of a hassle.

Ashley had been surprised that there were first-class seats available, but it was an odd time of year to be going away for pleasure. And Thursday night wasn't exactly a night for business travel. Their plane was a new one, with seats that turned into single beds. After dinner she and Ryan turned in, falling asleep holding hands. The steward woke them an hour before landing. Looking outside the windows, Ashley noted that it was a beautiful day. A stewardess brought them breakfast: scrambled eggs, croissants, and cafe au lait. They landed right on time.

Aeroporto Marco Polo was six miles north of the city. Claiming their bags, they boarded the shuttle bus that would take them to the dock. Ryan had booked a private powerboat to take them to their destination in the city. When they reached the boats they saw a young man holding up a sign that read, mulcahy, and they headed for him.

'Signore Mulcahy?' the man asked as they reached him.

'Si, Ryan Mulcahy e Signora Mulcahy,' Ryan said.

'I speak English, signore. I'm Pietro. Let me take your bags.' Reaching for them, the boat captain quickly stored them. Then he helped Ashley into his vessel, followed by Ryan. 'I like to practice my English, signore, if you don't mind. It helps me with the tourists in the summer,' Pietro told them. 'I know the signore speaks Italian, for the contessa has said so.',

'You know where we're going then?' Ryan inquired.

'Palazzo di Viscontini, signore, sz!'

'I take it this isn't a vaporetto,' Ashley said, smiling at her husband.

'No. This is first class,' Ryan replied with a grin. 'The weather is good?' he asked the boat's captain.

'You have brought the good weather with you, signore,' Pietro replied. 'They say for the next week we will have sun. Unusual for November.'

Out in the open water the boat sped its way across the lagoon. Ashley could see the city ahead of her. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, all gold, blue, and with terra cotta roofs. 'Where are the gondolas?' she asked Pietro.

'There will be a few still out,' he answered her. 'Most have been put away for the winter. Not many tourists come to Venice in the winter months, signora.'

As they drew closer to the city, Ashley was delighted to see a variety of boat traffic suddenly surrounding them as Pietro slowed down to keep pace with what was definitely a traffic pattern. Ryan pointed out a vaporetto which was the Venetian method of public transportation. Ashley could see it was crowded with rush-hour traffic. What a fun way to commute if you had to commute, she thought. There were other powerboats such as the one they were in. There were barges carrying all manner of goods, but the one that fascinated her was unloading fresh vegetables and fruit at what was obviously a marketplace. They stopped once to allow a boat that was marked as an ambulance to speed by. Everything seemed to use the water here. Finally their boat slowed and turned down a narrow canal. Beyond the buildings on its corner there were trees and gardens on either side of the waterway.

'Canal Viscontini,' Pietro said. 'It is very special. Even the great palazzos on the Grand Canal do not have this, signora. In the great days the two buildings that we have just passed served as warehouses for the di Viscontini. Like all the seigneury families, their wealth came from trade. To have such a private garden in the midst of the city is unheard-of, and the contessa could gain a great deal of money if she would sell.'

'But she will not,' Ryan said with a small smile.

'Ah, you know the contessa well, then,' Pietro said.

'I stayed with my family in her guesthouse one summer when I was a boy,' Ryan said. 'She taught me Italian, and I taught her English. Look there, Ash. It's the guesthouse.' He pointed to a charming mini villa in the middle of the contessa's gardens. 'And look ahead of you. Here is the palazzo. God, I don't think it has changed at all.'

'Very little changes in Venezia, signore,' Pietro remarked as the powerboat came to a stop beside a stone quay. He tied the vessel to an iron ring in the stone and, climbing out, reached down to help Ashley, and then Ryan. 'I will bring your bags,' he said.

The door to the palazzo had opened, and a woman came forward to greet them. 'Ryan?' She was a beautiful, small woman with flawless skin and red-blond hair cut in a short, fashionable bob. 'Ryan! I cannot believe it is you! Dio mio, you are taller than Finbar himself, aren't you?' She reached up as he bent and kissed both of her cheeks. 'Welcome back to Venice, cara !” Then the contessa turned and smiled. 'You are Ashley, Ryan's bride. I am so glad that you have come. While Ryan fusses with my wardrobe and scolds me about dry rot, you and I shall sightsee. You have never been to Venice, have you? I recognize the look on your face. It is the look that everyone gets who comes for the first time.' She kissed Ashley's cheeks. 'Welcome! Now come into the house with me, and we'll get you both settled. Have you eaten?' She linked her arms in theirs.

'On the plane, yes, thank you,' Ashley said. A palazzo! She was staying in a palace. It was so beautiful. As the boat had come up the little canal she had studied the elegant building ahead of her. It was of red brick that had been worn by wind and weather until it was a rich rose color. It was three stories high, with colonnades and arches. The wide stone quay that they walked across was dotted with great terra-cotta pots filled with rosebushes and ivy. It had obviously not been that cold in Venice yet, for some of the bushes were still in bloom.

They entered the house, and the contessa led them into a beautiful white-and-gold salon. A servant was immediately there, offering them tiny cups of espresso and small pastries. 'You were such a boy when I last saw you, Ryan,' the contessa said. She turned to Ashley. 'But he was quite charming.' She laughed. 'He thought himself very sophisticated. He roamed all over the city by himself, investigating everything. Considering that he was an American I was very impressed. Never once did he ask me where he might obtain a hamburger.'

'What did he look like at sixteen?' Ashley wanted to know.

'Not so tall, but with those same expressive brown eyes and a headful of dark hair,' the contessa said. 'I thought of him as a young Heathcliff. And he had beautiful manners, which I appreciated.' She smiled again. 'You must both call me Bianca,' she said. 'Do you remember that that is my name, Ryan?'

'Yes, I do,' Ryan said. He turned to Ashley. 'Ma was furious when she heard me address the contessa by her first name. She thought I was being fresh.' He chuckled. 'Tell me, Bianca, where is the wardrobe?'

'Ah, you are barely off the plane and you wish to work? You are indeed your father's son, Ryan. Old Venutti always said that Finbar Mulcahy was the best student apprentice that he ever taught. He died several years ago.'

'Is that why you called me?' Ryan had suspected it.

'Your reputation is exceptional,' the contessa told him. 'This is a rare piece with a wonderful provenance. I want only the best man to restore it. You are that man. But I am being rude. Let me have one of the servants escort you to your room. Then come back, and I will take you to see the wardrobe. Si?'

'Si,' he agreed.

Ashley and Ryan followed upstairs the serving man who answered the contessa's call, and they were shown to a large, airy bedroom. Ryan assured the servant that he could find his way back downstairs again, and then they were alone. Ashley went over to the windows of the room and pushed open and back the long shutters. There was a wrought-iron railing at each window, and to her surprise the view over the garden and the rooftops beyond was of the Grand Canal. 'It's beautiful!' She gasped. 'It's like being in another world, Ryan!' Turning, she hugged him.