She's in her sixties, gray hair pulled back, warm brown eyes. The grandmother I never had.
When she sees Elena, her face transforms. "Oh, my goodness!" She comes down the steps, her hands clasped. "What a beautiful child!"
Elena hides behind my leg, suddenly shy.
"Elena, this is Emilia. She helps take care of the house. She's—" I pause, not sure how to explain. "She's my family."
Emilia crouches down, making herself less intimidating. "Hello, Elena. Your daddy has told me all about you. He says you like chickens, yes?"
Elena peeks out. "We brought them with us. In the truck."
"Chickens! How wonderful! We'll have fresh eggs every morning." Emilia's smile is genuine. "And I'm making a special lunch for you. Your favorite. Do you like pasta?"
"I love pasta!"
"Then we'll be great friends." Emilia stands and turns to Isabella. "And you must be Isabella. Welcome to our home."
Our home. She says it naturally. Including Isabella immediately.
"Thank you," Isabella says quietly. "It's very kind of you."
"Nonsense. Any family of Alessandro's is family of mine." Emilia gestures toward the door. "Come, come. Let me show you around. Then lunch. And then—" She winks at Elena. "We'll see about getting those chickens settled."
We walk inside together. The entrance hall is all marble and light. A staircase curves up to the second floor. Everything is elegant.
Nothing like the farm.
Elena's hand tightens in mine. She's overwhelmed. I can tell.
"It's okay," I murmur. "I know it's big. But you'll get used to it."
"Will I get lost?"
"Probably at first. But I'll help you learn where everything is. And Emilia will help too."
We walk through the main floor. The living room. The dining room. The kitchen—Emilia's domain, warm and welcoming with the smell of something delicious cooking.
Then up the stairs. Past my room. Past the guest rooms.
To the room I've prepared for Elena.
I open the door and step back, letting her enter first.
It's a good-sized room. Windows overlooking the garden. A desk for when she's older. Bookshelves waiting to be filled.
And a bed with a pink princess bedspread.
I had Emilia find it. While I was arranging security and transportation and everything else, I had her go to a store andbuy the most princess-looking bedspread she could find. It has castles and crowns and everything a little girl might want.
Elena gasps. She runs to the bed, touching it reverently. "Daddy! It's a princess bed!"
"I thought you might like it." I crouch beside her. "This is your room now. We can decorate it however you want. Paint the walls. Add posters. Whatever makes it feel like home."
"Can I have my drawings on the walls?"
"All of them. We'll frame them if you want."
She throws her arms around me. "Thank you, Daddy! I love it!"
