“I want to eat at those wooden chairs,” our son said. “It looks inviting,” I agreed. At 20, he was always looking forward to his next meal. It had been his idea to meet in Italy for a week. He had planned our destinations, gotten leave, and flown in from his European navy base. I’d traveled around the globe when I was single, but my last trip to Europe had been with the three of us when he was a baby.