One Winter Weekend

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

T hey were able to zigzag their way to the Square on foot, crossing small canals via ancient stone bridges and finally emerging into the crowded piazza.

It was full of tourists and pigeons, exactly as it had looked in hundreds of postcard-worthy pictures that Scott had seen online.

Weak winter sunshine peeked through the clouds to illuminate the masses taking pictures of the Basilica or each other.

The Basilica was an impressive sight even to Scott, who knew little enough about the history of the place. The sheer size of the structure and the murals on the front of the building were enough to make anyone pause for a second look. Rachel was fairly glowing with excitement, rattling off a steady stream of facts about the architecture and construction of the cathedral. Scott looped an arm through hers as they walked, meandering slowly through the crowd. He loved her intelligence and enthusiasm for the world and was happy to listen to her talk.

Rachel trailed off and leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling. Scott gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “What are you thinking about?”

She snuggled closer to him. “How nice it is to be here with you.”

“Yeah?” He gave her an affectionate squeeze, and she grinned up at him.

“Yeah. I love it here. This is the best Christmas present ever.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him.

He kissed her back, not caring about the crowds of tourists around them. For a moment it was as if everyone and everything else faded away, and it was only the two of them, arm in arm in this romantic city. Rachel’s eyes sparkled as she turned away with a contented smile, gazing at the spires of the Basilica.

The perfect moment…

“Actually, there was something else…” Scott started to say, kneeling on the cobblestones and feeling for the ring box in his pocket.

Splat! Suddenly he felt something wet land on his head.

Horrified, he quickly stood up as Rachel turned back to him. He touched one hand to his hair and stared at the white smear on his fingers in disgust.

“Ew!” Rachel exclaimed, quickly pulling tissues out of her coat pocket. “Is that…”

“Stupid pigeons.” Scott wiped at his head and looked around the square for the offending pigeon in question, but they were all busily cooing at tourists trying to get scraps of food.

“Come on,” Rachel said, already tugging him toward a café on the edge of the piazza, “you can duck in the bathroom and get cleaned up, and I’ll get us something hot to drink. It’s kind of cold out here anyway.”

“Okay,” Scott said reluctantly, fingering the box in his pocket. He let her lead him across the crowded stones through even more flocks of pigeons. In the cafe, he popped upstairs to the tiny bathroom and quickly cleaned up, mortified and irritated in equal measure.

So much for that…