the trip for another week after that and then she made the reservations. She was leaving on the first of October, and the night before she left she called John and told him where she was going. He asked her the same questions Linda had, and she told him the same things.
“I want to go to Greece but I don't know what I'll do. I've decided to start out by making kind of a pilgrimage in honor of my mother. Maybe then I'll be able to let go.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” He had been so happy to hear from her, and he wished he could see her before she left, but he knew that she would not agree. It was almost as though she were afraid to see him, afraid of what he represented, and of how much he cared for her. She had told him once at the end that she had nothing to give him, that she thought that she had given herself to people who no longer existed, and she had no way of finding her way back. “Where are you starting out?” He brought the conversation back to the trip after a moment.
“Venice. I know she lived there with her grandmother for a while. I don't know where. But I'd like to see it. Everyone says it's a beautiful town, especially in October.”
He nodded at his end. “It is.”
“After that, Rome. I want to see the palazzo, wander around a little to some of the places Teddy says my father talked about. And then—” She hesitated. “I'll see. Maybe Greece.”
“Vanessa.” He said it almost urgently. “Go.”
“To Greece?” She sounded surprised.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that's where you'll find the missing piece. You gave yourself to Charlie and they took her away, you have to go back there to find her or to find you. I have the feeling that you won't be happy until you do.”
“You may be right. I'll see.”
“Will you let me know how you are?” For a moment he sounded worried.
“I'll be okay. What about you?”
“I'm all right. I miss you though. A lot.” The damn thing was that she missed him too.
“John …”She wanted to tell him that she loved him, because she did. But there seemed to be so little she could offer him. He was a man who deserved so much more than she had to give. And then she decided to say it anyway. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Promise me that you'll go to Athens.” She laughed nervously into the phone. “I mean it.”
“All right, I promise.”
“Good.”
She hung up then, and the next morning she took the plane to Paris, where she changed flights at Orly Airport, and then flew on to Venice, where the pilgrimage began.
54
Vanessa spent two days in Venice and loved it. It was the most beautiful city she had ever seen, and she walked for hours, getting lost in the maze of crooked little streets, wandering over narrow bridges, sitting in gondolas, looking at the Lido or the assorted palaces. She wished that she had known which one her mother had lived in as a child but they were all so lovely that it didn't matter. She was enchanted with her stay and wished that she had seen it with John.
After that she went to Rome, and was a little overwhelmed when she saw the Palazzo Tibaldo. The few times she'd seen the Fullerton house in New York she had been struck by how grand it was, but it was nothing like this. To her the palazzo looked immense.
It had been taken over in recent years by the ambassador of Japan, and there were Japanese soldiers standing outside it when Vanessa went to have a look. She wished that she could walk in the gardens, but she knew that she couldn't. She remembered her mother talking of Marcella, who had died many years before. For the rest of her stay in Rome she wandered around the many piazzas, the Piazza Navona, Piazza di Spagna, sat on the Spanish Steps with the other tourists, went to the Trevi Fountain, sat in a café on the Via Véneto and drank wine. All in all she was having a wonderful vacation, but after four days in Rome she began to get anxious about why she had come. The first two laps of her pilgrimage were almost over. There had been plenty to see and she had taken lots of photographs, but she knew only too well that that