Rock Writers’ Guild

Joe Rossi was greeting at the door which was typical for a friday or saturday night. He was an astute business man with political clout, a mover and shaker in Northend politics. He instantly recognized Liz and Bill and rolled out the red carpet.

Bill Snyder loved the attention accorded him. The recognition of being assoiated with powerful people like Jim Kelly and the influence and stature of being known around political circles as affilated with the Sullivans served to bring an aura of respectability and success. Better then being known as a denizen of the counter culture, Bill pondered, thinking of John Kelly’s backsliding reputation. Hippie Beads, long hair and sit ins were not on the golden boy’s agenda. Expensive automobiles, fine clothing and political appointments, that’s what Bill Snyder’s fortunes were made of.

Liz Kelly wore a black chiffon dress, low cut and revealing, a double strand of pearls graced her delicate neck. Bill was mesmerized by her genteel beauty. She was enchanting amidst the soft glow of candle light that encircled her. Her eyes, shielded behind designer glasses sparkled and danced like emerald fire flies. A mural of a Venice canal unfolded behind her, transporting them onto another continent and into another time.

“I love this restaurant, its so charming and romantic!” Liz Kelly exclaimed, her delicate complexion flushed with excitement.”I just adore the murals and statuary, they are so authentic. Liz was bubbling over with enthusiasm, eager to share some exciting news, and Bill had sensed the electricity the moment she had gotten into the car.

 ”After I graduate from Wellesley in June,” Liz grined,”I’m going to Rome for advanced studies at the prestigious Vatican Art Institute. I will be studying the Italian Renaissance period, frescos, mosaics and painting restoration.”

“Rome? for how long?”

“Six months, its quite an honor, Monsignor Rizzo called my mother this afternoon with the news.”

“Six months! I could’nt live six months without you!” Bill exclaimed. “The Vatican! Wow! How did your mother manage that one?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Liz smiled. “I imagine it has something to do with that brand new dedication plague with my grandfathers name on it. You know the one that graces the new wing of the Cardinal Cushing hospital.”

“Your grandfathers name is plastered on public buildings, parks, bridges and street signs all over Boston.” Bill said, with undertones of sarcastic envy.

“Yes I know, he was a very important man.” Liz replied, missing Bill’s jibe completely.

“I am so excited.” Liz gushed “imagine working in the Vatican museum, being surounded by Raphael’s and Michelangelo’s”.