Read Online Sisterchicks in Gondolas! by Robin Jones Gunn - Free Book Online

on, Jenna. We need to start dinner. Let’s see if we can turn our meager supplies into a gastronomical work of art.”
    “Okay,” I said, taking the challenge. “Let’s.”

Six

    T hat July afternoon, in the Venetian kitchen with the high ceilings that echoed with the voices of gleeful children, Sue and I gathered up the manna left in the pantry and created a work of art in pasta and string beans. What made the experience so beautiful for me was that we were doing this together, in womanly sync, as if it were woven into our DNA. Our movements across the marble floor matched each other’s in the steps to this dance.
    We were preparing a meal for people we had never met. Of course, I knew Sam, the organizer of the gathering, but I never had met the other men who were coming to this retreat from around the world.
    Sue ran through a list of questions while I checked on the boiling water. “You said these men do this retreat every year? Even though they’re from different missions?”
    “Yes. Sam started the retreat a few years ago to gather these leaders in one place so they would have a chance to form a brotherhood and work in unity with each other.”
    “It’s an excellent concept.” Sue rinsed the green beans. “Multiply the efforts by working together instead of as a bunch of individuals.” With a wink she added, “It sounds more like something a group of women would have thought of.”
    I joined her in snapping off the ends of the green beans. They were so fresh we could have eaten them raw.
    “This must be quite a journey for some of the men,” Sue said. “I wonder where they’re all coming from. I hope they get here safely.”
    I left the room and went to where we had stowed our luggage. I returned with the list of men and the schedule of their retreat.
    “Here are their names,” I said, going through the list: Peter from India, Eduardo from Argentina, Fikret from Turkey, Bruce from South Africa, Sergei from the Ukraine, Malachi from Kenya, and, of course, Sam.
    “Do you know if these guys have a set schedule?” Sue asked.
    “I printed out Sam’s final e-mail. The schedule is rough. It starts with dinner tonight around six. Afterwards they’ll have a meeting.”
    “In the sitting room, I suppose.”
    “Possibly.”
    “You know, Jenna, we’re going to have to figure out our sleeping arrangements. If they’re in the sitting room every night, where do you and I go when we’re ready to sleep?”
    “Good question.”
    “So what’s your good answer? I mean, we should figure this out before they arrive. Otherwise you and I are going to be locked in this kitchen until very late every night.”
    I was beginning to understand the joys and the hidden sacrifices of serving in this way. Hospitality, I decided, was an underestimated gift. Once I heard “hospitality” defined as “showing love to strangers,” and it looked as if we were about to experience that definition firsthand. “Let’s set the table, and then we can figure out the sleeping problem.”
    Sue checked on the china plates and glistening crystal glassware in the dining room while I went in search of table linens in the large closet in the hallway. Steph hadn’t opened that closet door when she gave us the tour, so I was amazed when I saw that the closet was more like a small room. Against one wall leaned two mattresses.
    “Sue, come here!”
    She dashed into the closet. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing’s wrong. I thought I’d have to yell for you to hear me.”
    “You don’t have to yell. The sound travels in this place.”
    “Look at these mattresses.”
    “Yes? So?”
    “What if we hauled them up to the roof? We could sleep up there. Or at least use it for our hideaway while the men have their meeting in the sitting room. It will be our tree house!”
    Sue looked hesitant. “Do you think it will be okay?”
    “I don’t see why not. Come on, let’s turn off the burners on the food and do this before the guys