Chapter Thirty-Four
The tour split up for the rest of the afternoon to explore Venice at their leisure. Fernando and Sophie strolled around the Piazzetta San Marco, listening to the live string quartet that played at one of the open-air cafés and the many people feeding pigeons in the square. They stopped in a hat shop, and Sophie insisted that Fernando add a navy blue fedora with a slate gray band and tiny red and blue feather to his disguise, as he had abandoned the baseball cap days earlier, saying it just wasn’t his style. Fernando still felt uncomfortable with a hat on his head, but this one felt more him, so he agreed. They hadn’t taken ten steps down the walkway when a gentleman said, “Nice hat,” as he walked by, so his confidence was boosted sufficiently to proceed.
Before long, they arrived outside the Murano Glass Company and were stunned by the beauty of the hand-made pieces lining the walls on glass shelves and in lit displays. Elaborate chandeliers hung overhead with price tags that took Sophie’s breath away .
“Fernando, do you see that chandelier with the blue irises? It’s like a giant flower bouquet hanging from the ceiling! I have never seen anything like it,” Sophie whispered in his ear, trying not to be obvious in her astonishment but overwhelmed by the sights before her.
“Did you notice the Regio Candido chandelier hanging over there?” he asked, pointing to a snow-white and clear chandelier that showcased the meticulous craftmanship required to create its exquisite design.
“It looks like something that belongs in Elsa’s ice palace in the movie Frozen, ” Sophie marveled, her eyes wide with wonder. “The transparent curlicues jutting out of the top of the white drip pans, holding the flame-like bulbs, are so intricate. The arms at the bottom resemble scaly white ice tentacles from one of her monsters, but the arms at the top are like elegant candlesticks, slender and refined. Their smooth, elongated bodies taper gracefully to narrow bases, with delicate curves and subtle contours giving them an almost ethereal quality. The glass pendants dangling off the edges look like melting icicles. It’s so elegant it almost hurts to look at it. I can’t imagine owning one of those. It looks so delicate, like it will shatter into a million little ice crystals and disappear on the wind with the slightest touch.”
“Are you sure you’re not the writer in this relationship? Perhaps we should change your title and find me a replacement assistant. I hear there is an opening in your romance division,” he jested.
She sighed as she continued looking up at the various chandeliers, her voice soft and whispery, skirting gently along his nerve endings, “You wish you could replace me. As for writing, I wouldn’t want to risk damaging your ego further by making it to the top of the charts like Sarah.”
Sophie didn’t notice the firm grasp she maintained on Fernando’s arm as they continued wandering through the shop, her head frequently tipped back to view the masterpieces floating over her head. He, however, noticed the effect it was having on him. Her closeness was warming him from the inside out and solidifying his plans.
“Time to move on. I saw they have a glassblowing demonstration. Are you in?” he asked, turning them toward the large window showing a factory floor where craftsmen were busy creating ornately designed glass pieces.
“Yes, of course! That would be amazing!” Sophie said excitedly, hugging his bicep even more tightly.
Fernando took care of the arrangements while Sophie circled the shop once more, looking over the items displayed on the walls. Everything was out of her price range, and she couldn’t imagine any of them in her home, but they were stunning to look at. She could see one or two pieces looking at home on the entrance table, impressing guests who stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor. Large bouquets of fresh flowers were delivered daily, but these glass masterpieces didn’t require floral sacrifices to show off their beauty.
“All set. Let’s head inside,” Fernando whispered softly as he claimed her hand and led her to the door where a seasoned craftsman stood waiting for them.
“Buon pomeriggio! I am Imperio,” he greeted, opening the door and sweeping his arm inside to welcome them to the glassblowing floor. “This is where the magic happens.”
The glassmaker, an elderly man with twinkling eyes and hands weathered by years of work, began the demonstration. “Murano glass has been crafted here for centuries,” he explained. “The techniques we use today have been passed down through generations, each piece unique and filled with history. I am a fourth-generation Murano master right here in Venezia. You could say that glass runs in my veins. ”
He gestured to a table with various ingredients laid out. “Fernando, I was told today you will be making a special vase. We will start with the color. To achieve the vibrant purple you requested, we must add manganese dioxide to the molten glass. Manganese dioxide is what gives it that deep, rich hue.”
Fernando approached the table and carefully mixed the manganese dioxide into the molten glass, following the craftsman’s guidance. “This mixture must be heated to about 2,500 degrees Fahrenheit to become molten, and it cools as we work, so we must be fast and efficient to get the desired design,” Imperio instructed, guiding Fernando to the furnace.
After the glass was well mixed to create the purple coloring, the craftsman dipped a long hollow pipe into the mixture, picking it up and removing it from the heat before handing it to Fernando. “Blow gently into the pipe to create a bubble in the glass. This will form the base of your vase.” An apprentice modeled this step for him. Fernando followed the instructions, his cheeks puffing as he blew into the pipe, watching in awe as the glass began to expand.
“Now, we shape it,” the craftsman said, guiding Fernando to a marver, a flat metal surface used for shaping. “We will roll the glass on the marver to create an even shape, then use these tongs to pinch the bottom and form the rounded belly.”
Fernando once again watched the apprentice, then carefully rolled and shaped the glass, his hands trembling slightly under those of the old man as he used the tongs to pinch the bottom gently. The craftsman nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Now, let’s work on the neck. Use the tongs to pinch and pull gently, creating a narrow neck.”
“I’ll let you do that part if you don’t mind. I want this vase to look good when we finish,” Fernando chuckled .
“Not to worry. We will never allow an unattractive piece to leave our floor. We have very high standards. If it is not good when we finish, we simply melt it down and try again,” the craftsman replied but shaped the neck when Fernando held up his hands, refusing to reclaim the tongs.
“For the finishing touch, we will add the scalloped details you requested to the rim,” the craftsman said, handing Fernando a short and smooth metal rod to create the delicate edges. Fernando followed the instructions, angling the rod and gently pushing it down, creating a stunning, scalloped rim that added elegance to the vase.
As the vase cooled, the craftsman beamed with pride. “You’ve done a wonderful job, Fernando. This vase is a true work of art, a blend of tradition and your personal touch. Would you like gold or silver embellishments added? We can add a gold rim and a Venetian scene to help you remember your visit if you like,” Imperio offered.
“That sounds nice. Let’s do that,” Fernando agreed.
“Head out to the store, and we will have it all ready for you soon. Thank you for your visit today; it was nice working with you,” Imperio added with a small bow before walking away with the still-cooling vase in hand.
Soon, the finished vase appeared in a well-padded box. A fine gold ring rimmed the top and base, while an elegant scene of a Victorian-era couple strolling along a Venetian canal, a gondola nearby, and elaborate curlicues filling the surrounding dead space decorated the middle.
Sophie’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “It’s beautiful, Fernando.”
“I’m glad you like it; it’s for you,” he said, pressing the open box into her hands and kissing her cheek softly .
“Oh! It will be a cherished gift forever. Honestly, though, I think I will be too nervous to display it,” Sophie whispered, eyes glistening with emotion at the gesture.
“Well, leave it in the box if that makes you feel better. You can open it anytime and remember your trip to Italy. However, if you put it on the corner of your desk, I can’t imagine it getting broken there, and that way, I can add a few flowers to it every now and then. Just my two cents,” Fernando added with a shrug. “Now, which of these do you think will look good in the office?”
Sophie’s heart was still pounding from the generous gift as she switched gears into Personal Assistant mode and talked him through her thoughts on the office decor. She never noticed that the stunning chandelier she had been eyeing earlier was missing from its prominent display overhead.
With the vase complete, office purchases made, and preparations for all the fragile items to be shipped home, they left the Murano Glass store, their hearts light and spirits high.
Fernando and Sophie found a charming outdoor café nestled on the edge of St. Mark’s Square. As they settled into their seats, the afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the historic piazza, illuminating the intricate architecture of the surrounding buildings. The soft strains of a string quartet playing Vivaldi floated through the air, mingling with the gentle clink of cutlery and the distant cooing of pigeons. A gentle breeze wafted the tempting scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods from the café, adding to the relaxed ambiance.
They opted for a light meal, knowing that the evening held a culinary experience on the island of Burano. Sophie chose a crisp arugula salad sprinkled with slivers of Parmesan and drizzled with a tangy lemon-olive oil dressing. Beside her, Fernando enjoyed a plate of bruschetta, each slice of toasted bread topped with a vibrant mix of diced tomatoes, fresh basil, and a hint of garlic. They sipped on chilled sparkling water, the bubbles tickling their palates, as they savored the simplicity and freshness of their lunch. Relishing the moment, they watched the hustle and bustle of tourists exploring the square, their laughter and chatter adding layers to the rich tapestry of sounds in the heart of Venice. The light meal was perfect, leaving them satisfied yet eager for the delights of dinner with their tour group later in the evening.