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“We’ve located a hotel within walking distance of the famous Holy Mary of the Flowers Cathedral, which the Florentines refer to as the Duomo, and by a stroke of luck, it can accommodate everyone until we move into our assigned hotel in Montecatini. The upshot of this is, you’ll be treated to a much more intimate tour of Florence than you ever expected, and I give you my personal guarantee that you won’t be disappointed. Florence is a great medieval city. More manageable than Rome. It’s a walking city, with less traffic and noise, fewer fountains, and incredible bargains on gold and leather goods.”
    “What are we supposed to wear while we’re there?” Gillian Jones yelled out. “In case you need a reminder, our clothes are toast!”
    Duncan flashed her an indulgent smile. “The miracle of insurance. Once we reach Florence you’ll each be given a stipend of six hundred thousand lire to replace some of the items you lost in the fire. And when you fill out a more detailed insurance form, you’ll receive the full replacement cost of all your belongings, so I suggest you start thinking ‘shopping spree.’ ”
    “Six hundred thousand lire?” Nana said, tittering with excitement.
    I deleted the three zeroes and divided by two to calculate just how much. “Three hundred dollars.”
    “That’s a lot a money. If they got a Super Wal-Mart over here, I’m thinkin’, new wardrobe!”
    “We’ll be making a comfort stop at an Autogrill about seventy kilometers up the road,” Duncan continued. “Their dining facilities are excellent, so we’ll plan to eat dinner there this evening instead of Florence. In the meantime, if anyone’s thirsty, I have bottled water and soft drinks in a cooler up here beside me. On the house. And please, don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your trip more enjoyable.”
    “Such a polite young man,” Nana cooed.
    The aisle suddenly filled with guests making a mad dash to the front of the bus. Apparently, watching a hotel burn to the ground made people really thirsty. I turned in my seat, spying my mother several seats behind me sitting with Alice Tjarks. “How did you convince Mom to sit with Alice instead of you?” I asked Nana.
    “It didn’t take no convincin’. She volunteered. I let it slip that Alice was packin’ the deluxe travel edition a Scrabble. Every letter of the alphabet. Magnetized. It was too big a temptation to resist.”
    I shook my head. “You’re bad, Nana. Tell me, were you able to avoid her in St. Peter’s?”
    “Barely. I seen her bearin’ down on us, so I grabbed George and pulled him into a confessional. Woulda made my monthly confession while I was waitin’ there, too, but the priest couldn’t understand me.”
    Okay, so maybe Nana had a
teensy
problem with double negatives, verb agreement, subordinate clauses, and tense formation. She was still perfectly understandable, wasn’t she? “What couldn’t he understand?” I asked gently.
    “English. Turned out to be a Polish confessional.”
    I smiled. “How did George feel about being inside a confessional? That’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a Lutheran.”
    “He didn’t seem real impressed, dear. He thought it was a phone booth.”
    I heard the loud report of snapping gum beside me and groaned inwardly as I looked up.
    “Hi again!” said Keely as she passed. “Remember me? From the basilica? Say, weren’t you the one who missed the bus back at St. Peter’s? Where were you anyway? Seems we waited at that bus terminal for you forever.”
    “You waited for me? That was so sweet!” I narrowed my eyes. “What terminal?”
    “The underground bus terminal. You know, down the pedestrian walkway and left at the tunnel that intersected it halfway down.”
    “There was a tunnel?”
    “A real nice one,” said Nana.
    My mouth sagged open. “How was I supposed to find a bus that was underground?”
    Keely gave me a squinty look. “It might have