Word count: 99
“Can you close them?” Penelope pointed upward.
The waiter looked nonplussed.
Chris cleared his throat, “Ombrello vicino?”
The waiter snorted. “No, no…ees beeyooteeful, no? No ombrello vicino, scusa.”
Penelope watched the waiter sashay away, disappointed that the Italian stars would elude her.
“It’s okay, honey.” Chris patted his girlfriend’s hand. “We’ll go for a stroll around the square after dinner.”
His other hand sought the box in his trousers pocket and patted that gently, also.
Later, as promised, Penelope marveled at the night sky, and at the new diamond ring on her finger held aloft among those Italian stars.