Flash Point by James W. Huston Page A

They see me as an incomplete person. It isn’t intentional, but some men can’t get over it.” She looked down again, and was quiet.
    Vialli knew she had seen his shock and dismay. He hated himself for reacting at all.
    Sean was carefully studying anything that would require him to turn his head.
    “There’s more,” she said quietly.
    “What?”
    Irit sat back and put her head on his shoulder. He moved his arm around her. She spoke softly. “I’m not Italian.”
    He pulled back slightly and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
    “I’m not from Trento. I don’t even live in Italy. My cousin lives in Trento and I come to visit her once in a while. That’s why I’m here. Then I travel around Italy because I love it. But I don’t live here.”
    “Where do you live?”
    “Nahariya.”
    Vialli looked at her uncomprehendingly, his mouth open. “Where?”
    “Israel.”
    Vialli’s mouth stayed open. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know where to start. “Are you . . .”
    “Jewish?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Of course.”
    “I’m Catholic.”
    “I know.”
    Vialli stared past her at a small square that was full of shops. The light cascaded out of the shops and reflected on the wet pavement. It looked magical. Gondolas were lining up to unload. “Does it matter?” he asked finally.
    “Not to me. Does it matter to you?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m not very Catholic.”
    She smiled at him for the first time since they’d gotten into the gondola. “I’m not very religious either. My family is not Orthodox or anything.”
    “If we see each other would your parents be upset?”
    Irit looked at him with her gorgeous eyes. “Probably.”
    “Does that matter?”
    “A little.”
    “Are we going to see each other?”
    She shrugged. “That’s up to you. You’ve gotten two surprises today, and I doubt you liked either one very much. It will depend on you, I think.”
    Vialli sat in turmoil. “Why didn’t you tell me from the first?”
    “I don’t know. I just thought you would find me more interesting if I were Italian. Being Israeli can be quite a burden.”
    Vialli considered what he had just heard. “I want to see you again.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure. Two people who love Italy who aren’t
from
Italy? We’re perfect for each other.” He watched the boats that passed the other way.
    Woods caught his eye. With an immediate exchange of looks Woods asked him if everything was okay, and Vialli told him things were fine. Woods focused his attention back on the sights.
    Vialli spoke. “When am I going to see you again?”
    “I don’t know,” she answered. “Where is your next port?”
    “Naples I think, but it’s not for a couple of weeks.”
    “I’ll be back home by then.”
    He breathed in sharply. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know.”
    “I know. Most good things aren’t.”
    He nodded. “We’re gonna be in Israel in about a month.”
    “I know. You told me.”
    “I guess that will be it. Our next chance to be together.” He thought for a moment. “And after that, I won’t see you again before we head back to the States unless you can meet me somewhere.”
    “I’d like to see you sooner.” She pursed her lips. “I’m going to miss you.”
    He leaned over and kissed her gently. She kissed him back.
    “You’re amazing,” he said.
    She looked at him curiously. “Why do you say that?”
    “I don’t know. You’re so . . . together. You aren’t like all the silly girls I’ve dated. You’re just . . . different.”
    She smiled but said nothing. “I need to get back.”
    “You just got here.” He sat up straight as if he had just thought of something. “I’d like you to meet the guys. Want to walk with me to the hotel where we’re staying?”
    “I don’t have time.”
    “Sure you do.”
    The gondola came to a gentle stop where they had started. They climbed out and walked to a café at the corner of the