The ceiling, the floors, and the stunning view outside of the windows facing the iconic scenery. The hills and the Castle of Meleto, the medieval village of Vertine. Before she stepped foot inthis home, I knew the process of falling in love had tugged at her heartstrings. She wore hearts in her eyes as she imagined a life here.
Her fingers reverently touched a gold chain hanging from the bed’s poster. Hm. Grazia’s brother must have left it. It dangled between the tiny dancer’s fingers, and she closed her eyes, sighing at whatever she felt from it. She set it back in its place a few moments later, and then exited the room through a door that led out to the terrace.
It was as if she had stepped out into a fantastical dream. Her eyes took in the crawling roses and lilacs. And when a warm breeze touched the tendrils of her auburn hair, she closed her eyes, breathing in.
As she allowed the breath out, I took her hand and brought her around the rest of the property. This time, I tried to keep her rooted in reality by giving her facts instead of allowing her to get lost in the dream again. She had never left it, and I was almost worried that perhaps she could not.
Fate was on my side when we stood in the kitchen, and a hard dose of reality brought her back down to the earth.
One of the cabinets needed to be fixed, and it fell sideways, smacking her in the head. She laughed, rubbing it. Then she attempted to fix it, but it still hung crookedly.
Perhaps this was something her man could do for her. It was best to plant the seed inside of her head and watch it take root, instead of offering her the plant itself, already grown with nothing else to do but enjoy its fruits.
“If you buy it, you can fix it.” I shrugged, making a motion that this was the best idea.
“What?” She laughed even louder, as if this was a preposterous idea! “Buy it?”
“The villa. It is for sale. A dear family member can no longer tend to its needs.”
“I can’t buy this place.” She spun, turning into the spinning ballerina before my eyes, but it was out of shock.
“Why not? You have the money, no?”
“We do.”
“I do not see the problem.” Okay, perhaps too much reality had invaded her thoughts. She needed more persuasion, in the form of imagining her husband here. “Come. Let me show you something else.”
I took her hand and led her back outside. I made sure to point out the different trees and the tributary of river Massellone that ran through the yard. We walked over the bridge above it, leading straight to a glistening in-ground blue pool.
It only took a second, and she smiled as her reflection rippled back at her.
Of course.
From my research, Brando Faust was a swimmer.
“You see,” I said to her as we moved closer to the farmhouse, “this place is for you and your beast.”
“I can’t buy a villa in Siena, Rosaria.” She said the words, but it was as if she could not bear to part with even the smell of it. She had taken a breath in but had not released it.
“We have covered this already,bella. You can do whatever you like. If your heart speaks to you, listen to it. Money is no matter.”
“What logic,” she mumbled.
“There is one more thing I would like to show you.” The deliciouspièce de résistancethat was going to put the cherry on her floating cake. “It will take a while.”
We sat out on the balcony that was connected to the master bedroom, and the tiny dancer offered me a bottle of Chianti, cheese, and pears. She explained to me that the owner of the shop in Pienza, or who she thought was the owner of the shop, had accidentally given them to her. She said it was the second time it had happened. The first time was when herbella bestiawas with her. She said she honestly thought it was a case of mistaken identity. She felt bad for the true owner of the package, but the man at the shop refused to take it back.
I was not sure what was going on, but a chill spread over my arms, and I knew it was a sign from fate that I had to direct myhusband’s footsteps here. There are some obstacles in life that are unavoidable, even for me. This was when I schemed and planned to avoid falling during them.
However, I should have known in that moment that my life was going to change in ways I did not foresee. I should have known and killed her right then—poisoned the pear or the Chianti—yet, the stars had come out, and I was riveted by the reaction this dreamer had to them.
“Now you are allowed to float,” I whispered as the stars seemed to unfurl from the sky like a troupe of ballerinas with candles on their feet.
“Holy Mary,” she breathed out, her eyes full of stars.
“The name of the villa isdare alla luce.” I took another bite of the pear, and she gazed at me.
“To give birth,”she translated.
