Free Frail Barrier by Edward Sklepowich Page B

When he had finished fifteen minutes later, with some intelligent interventions by Hollander, he didn’t feel as if he had indulged himself. What he felt was that he had helped put his companion at ease. Hollander seemed more relaxed. They finished the Soave and ordered another.
    â€˜It was unfortunate that Barbara and I never got to meet your stepfather.’
    â€˜He was an interesting man, and a good one. You would have enjoyed knowing each other.’
    â€˜Regrettable that our paths never crossed – except that one time, most indirectly, in the Piazza San Marco.’
    â€˜My stepfather was on the shy side. And during the past several months he kept to his apartment much of the time, because of his illness.’
    â€˜I understand. Where did he live?’
    â€˜In one of the palaces over there.’
    Hollander gestured across the Grand Canal toward the noble line of buildings to the right of the traghetto stop.
    â€˜Which one?’
    â€˜The one with the row of pointed windows.’
    Hollander’s reference to the Gothic windows identified the palazzo as one of the most elegant on the Grand Canal and one of the most storied.
    â€˜He bought the apartment last year. He thought it would be his pied-à-terre for a lot longer than it was.’
    Hollander forced some brightness into his face as he added, ‘So you aren’t the only one with your own piece of Venice, though mine is more modest. But I doubt if I shall keep it. It has bad memories. Perhaps you can help me with an estate agent? The one that brought the apartment to my stepfather’s attention retired a few months ago.’
    â€˜I’d be glad to, but it might not be a good idea to do anything in haste.’
    â€˜I understand what you mean. But I’ve thought enough about it.’
    â€˜Were you staying with your stepfather?’
    Hollander took a sip of his wine before answering.
    â€˜Not this time. In the hotel, as I said. I stayed with him last November. He wanted his privacy this year. But I was right across the canal.’
    â€˜Even if you weren’t just across the canal from each other, you would have been close one way or another. Venice is such a small town.’
    â€˜Too small for me, actually. I prefer London. I have a house in Chelsea, but I travel much of the time. My mother has a tour company. I’m the president.’
    From here it was logical for the two new acquaintances to pass on to the topic of travel. They shared their impressions of various destinations and discussed travel literature, about which Hollander was knowledgeable. In the process they discovered that they were in agreement on almost every point except mass tourism. Hollander quite understandably defended it since, without it, Hollander Tours wouldn’t exist.
    â€˜But it’s destroying so much,’ Urbino insisted. ‘Look at these boats! Filled with tourists. I remember not too long ago when the city was almost quiet by six in the evening, even at this time of the year.’
    â€˜Oh, for the days of the grand tour, trunks, and transatlantic voyages!’
    â€˜Something like that. I know it’s not very democratic.’
    â€˜And you the American!’
    The waiter poured the last of the Soave into their glasses. The two men fell into a comfortable silence. Each was lost in his thoughts as he contemplated the scene spread out before them.
    â€˜It is a beautiful city,’ Hollander emphasized, breaking the silence. ‘I’ll certainly grant you that. I understand why my stepfather loved it. He said that he never wanted to leave, and I guess that in a sense he never did leave, did he? Oh, I see that your friends are about to go.’
    Urbino turned around. The two women came over to their table. Urbino made the introductions.
    â€˜We look forward to seeing you at Barbara’s party,’ Oriana said.
    â€˜They are very attractive,’ Hollander said after the two women had