One Winter Weekend

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

T he directions were clear enough to follow, and the water-taxi easily deposited them outside a luxurious looking day spa.

To Max’s relief, the masseuses who were handling their appointment both spoke fluent English, so at least he didn’t have to feel awkward about that part of things.

If Max tolerated the treatments—he thought they were a little frilly, to be honest—he could tell Naomi was beside herself. They started with a foot bath and moved through a series of massages and body treatments, rubbing in fragrant oils that Max supposed were relaxing or calming. Naomi certainly looked relaxed, and he settled down onto his treatment table, feeling a touch better himself.

By the time their hour session was up, Naomi was practically radiant, and Max could definitely feel that the kinks in his neck were long gone.

She was beaming as they glided back down a canal to another restaurant for dinner. “Have you ever felt so relaxed before?” she said dreamily, and he couldn’t help but grin. He supposed he hadn’t, but better than that was seeing how relaxed she was. It was like her old self was coming back—the one who wasn’t constantly stressed and fussing over the baby.

Dinner was the usual mix of terrifying choices, but somehow Max didn’t care so much. He discovered that he could order pasta with a tomato and meat sauce, and did so without caring if it looked too English. He didn’t even know the names of the dishes Naomi ordered, though he could smell seafood in at least one of them. When dessert came around he even tried a bite of her tiramisu, even though he still thought the espresso and chocolate were too strong.

They finally left the restaurant late and went to hail a boat to take them back to their hotel. Max noticed all the gondoliers lining up outside nearby and on impulse said, “Shall we take a detour?”

Naomi was snuggled up tightly against him. She followed his gaze, looking delighted. “Are you sure? I know you don’t like being so close to the water…”

“I can put up with it.” I think.

Max asked the gondolier to take them on a short tour of the canals, and off they went, poling out into the Grand Canal and taking in the sights of San Marco by night.

Naomi sighed contentedly. The lights strung up along buildings and over bridges reflected on the lapping waters of the canals, leaving the whole city aglow. It was hard to not feel festive gliding under lit snowflakes and stars and listening to classic Christmas hymns sung in Italian playing through loudspeakers on Rialto Bridge and in shops closing up for the night.

Max tried carefully to avoid looking down at the water as they glided along. He found that if he just kept his eyes on the level, looking at the colourful paint of the buildings or the lights overhead, he could almost forget they were in a glorified canoe.

Naomi seemed perfectly content. Out of the blue, the gondolier gently sang something Italian in a baritone voice, and although Max couldn’t understand a word, he thought he could sense some of the joy in the man’s voice.

Their gondolier ended their tour right at the dock of their hotel, and Max released a breath as he climbed out of the shallow boat. A dock wasn’t solid ground, but it sure beat a gondola for stability.

Upstairs he shrugged out of his heavy clothes into pyjamas and listened as Naomi drew a bath and changed into nightclothes. To his surprise and delight, she emerged from the bathroom smelling like her perfume and wearing a silky black slip that was not intended for sleeping in. Apparently, she’d forgotten all about calling home promptly each evening, and once she’d climbed into bed he forgot all about it too.

Later that night he woke up for no reason, startled out of a dream, or maybe hearing some noise outside the hotel. He got up quietly and went to the bathroom to get a drink of water, and when he came back he lay propped up on one elbow, studying his wife.

For the first time in over a year, she seemed totally at peace, breathing softly, her hair spread out over the pillow.

It was a good idea to come here, he thought, satisfied, as he curled up next to his wife. They hadn’t had so much quality time together since the baby came, and he thought it was worth every moment spent in those darn boats.

A feeling of extreme contentment spread through him as he listened to Naomi’s soft breathing, and he eased himself carefully back under the blankets to cuddle up next to her, drifting away to sleep.