I’ve been reading Faulkner with an all boy/men book group, and lately have found myself drawn to girlie books to combat all that testosterone. It’s been great to read something hard and completely outside my usual arena of fiction. But at the end of a chapter I find myself craving some good ol’ girl fiction, preferably with an exotic location and a little love story. When I saw A Stopover in Venice on sale for $1.00 the other day I knew it was going home with me. A story of a woman who abruptly leaves her husband and finds her own story in Venice seemed particularly appealing. I was talking with a friend last night and she said she feels a change coming. Spring sometimes does that to me. The warm air brings about an impetus to change, break-out, start over and either change or stop patterns all together. Maybe that’s why Kathryn Walker’s character of Nel Everett seemed so enticing. Here is Nel’s break through moment,
Then something unusual happened. I stood up, stepped over my husbands long legs, not particularly carefully, dragged down whatever piece of my luggage was stashed above our seats, and got off the train.
That, after eight years of marriage, had taken a mere five minutes, the time required for the train to pull in, halt briefly, and pull out of the station. How? What desperate, gagged Ariel in my beleaguered soul had struggled free in this lunge for the air? And what did Anthony think? That I was still on the train? Sulking in the club car?