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“Does not exist—yet. I’ll search through the openings at the farm. Surely there’s a place for you. Once we have that settled, then we’ll move and begin working on dream plan B while we also try to reignite dream plan A. I know we can make this work, Donvino. Give me six months. And if you’re not happy in Valle Sicuro come spring, then you can move back here to Florence.”
“You are so sure. Calling you the rainbow dreamer was true.”
I stole a fast peck on his scruffy cheek. His eyes closed as my lips brushed his face, a sigh of pure pleasure escaping him. Plan B had to work. It just had to. Once we had our dream plan running along smoothly, we could return to our dream plan A. Things would smooth out. We’d be together, and the world could kiss our sweet backsides if it didn’t like our love.
“I think you’re a rainbow dreamer as well. You just need to molt and grow into your vibrancy,” I whispered, letting my head drop to his shoulder for a brief moment.
“Molting is ugly,” he reminded me.
Yes, it was, but oh, the plumage that grew in would be resplendent!
***
The villa was experiencing a bit of a kerfuffle when we arrived, me in my car and Donvino pushing his motorbike behind me.
“There you are,” my aunt sniped as Alessio placed a large suitcase into the Bentley. She was dressed in muted tones, leaning heavily on her cane, her face pinched. “Truly, what is the point of you children having cell phones if you turn them off?”
“We turn them off to ensure our mental health isn’t taxed when we need a break,” I countered, stepping out of my car and then dashing up to take my aunt’s elbow.
“Pah, mental health. In my day, if you had a bad time of things, you pushed through it and did not hide from the world. Your generation is weak.” She shook off my offer of assistance. I threw a look at Donvino, who had left his Suzuki on the far side of the drive to help his grandfather with the suitcases. “I have been trying to call you for over two hours.”
“I don’t really like phone calls,” I explained, walking at her side just in case she had a spell and tipped over. Not that that happened much—or ever to my knowledge—but it seemed the polite thing to do. I didn’t go into detail about the hour plus Donvino and I had spent in his bed after our talk. She’d blow a gasket for sure if she knew I’d turned off my phone to give and receive a blowjob.
“Then why have a phone?!”
“To text people.” The string of Italian was so fast and furious I only caught a few words, none of them complimentary. “What’s wrong? Are you going on a trip? Are you sick?”
“Vittoria is not feeling well. I shall be spending time with her and those dogs of hers. Please keep an eye on the villa in my absence. Also make sure that Giada cleans the guest rooms thoroughly and that Donvino sprays the roses for aphids.”
“Yep, will do. Dusting and aphids. Got it.” I opened the rear door for her, easing closer as she gingerly seated herself in the back, hands on her lap like a duchess just settled in her carriage. I leaned in to find the seatbelt and got a slap on the hand for my efforts. Man, she was in a mood. When I’d first arrived, I would have credited her sharpness to her being a brittle old bat, but now that I knew her better, I could see that her bite was due to worry. “Tell her that I hope she’s feeling better soon. In Italian, of course. Say it with a nice accent, then explain it was from me. She’ll like that.”
Dark brown eyes studied me, and then the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her freshly lipsticked mouth.
“Yes, she will. She adores you.”
“Well, I am rather adorable.” I took the belt, snapped it, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She nodded, just once, and directed me to close the door so they could leave. I gave my vest a sharp tug, saluted, and jumped to it. As soon as the Bentley was on its way, I spun and almost collided with Giada. She threw me that look that people who served wore when they were upset with those above them but unable to really glower. Not exactly a scowl but sour enough to let me know she was displeased with me.
“Donvino! Vieni con me.” She barked and stormed off.
Or she could be mad at her grandson. I glanced back at him standing in the drive. A man being led to the gallows might appear happier.
“Go, I’ll push your bike into the shed,” I whispered and got a nod from him. He disappeared inside the villa, leaving the front door open as the main gate closed with a soft creak. I kicked the stand up, sighed heavily, and rolled the bike along until it was parked in the gardener’s shed next to the old push mower. A rake rested in the corner, and the smell of rodents was strong. I opted to leave the door cracked for Lucia. Maybe she would start mousing instead of harassing the songbirds.
Once inside, I paused in the hallway and listened but heard nothing from the kitchen. Chiding myself for being nosy, I went to my room, eager to search for job openings on farm 20, so that dream plan B could launch. As I entered my room, I spied the patio doors open and a sleepy gray cat stretched out in the late afternoon sun. Just a thin ray shone on Lucia, but it was enough to make her fur glow like highly buffed aluminum. I took a step inside, toed off my shoes, then flopped on the bed. I purposefully ignored the steamer trunk wreckage on the floor. Within seconds, a lithe feline leapt to the mattress, her purrs announcing her arrival. She padded around my head, bumping my face with hers, until she decided to rest on my chest. I scrolled through the Bonetti database, searching through the openings for farm 20. I had just found one that might be promising when loud voices floated into my room.
Lucia mewled when I moved her, grabbing hold of my vest with her claws. I worked to free myself, slid from under the disgruntled cat, and snuck to the patio door. Giada and Donvino were down by the pergola, both facing each other stiffly like two rams about to charge. I hid behind the flowy yellow sheers, eavesdropping even though I knew it was rude. My Italian was passable at this point, mostly, but they were speaking so quickly and so heated that I managed to only pick up bits and pieces.
What I did hear was upsetting. It seemed that the disturbance in Cousin Bigot’s eatery had reached the ears of the rest of the family. Giada was horrifically appalled at her grandson for hitting his cousin. Donvino tried to explain but his grandmother cut him off time and again, citing that she was worried about him and his new friend. I sucked in a breath. Did she mean me? Donvino snapped back, loudly, that he would be friends with whom he wished to which his grandmother asked if he knew what kind of man I truly was. Okay, yep, it was me. He said he did. She then said she and Alessio worried I would lead him down a dark path of sin. Wow, and here I thought she liked me.
I felt Lucia move past me, her long tail tickling my knee as she returned to the patio only to find the sun had moved on. With a shout that made the cat dart off in fear, Donvino exploded on his grandmother. I held up the sheer curtain to cover the lower half of my face, eyes wide, as he shouted about the only sin he worried about was the hate his family rolled in like pigs. Suini. Pig. Yes, I was pretty sure that was the word. That was when his grandmother slapped him across the face. I gasped into the curtain. Donvino took it stoically, murmured something to his grandmother, and left. Posture rigid as a soldier, he exited the back garden. Giada began to weep into her hands before moving to a small corner of the garden, kneeling in front of the small shrine to the Virgin Mary settled in amidst some bougainvillea shrubs of deepest red.
“Holy shit,” I mouthed into the sheer before darting to the bed to grab my phone. Sitting down, legs in a lotus, I texted away just as his bike screamed out of the drive. Yikes, good thing my aunt was gone or he would have had two old women sniping at him. Since he was driving, I knew he wouldn’t respond, so I sent a text to Bianca letting her know what had just happened. Then I sat there, chewing the corner of my mouth, unsure of what to do now. Obviously, Giada suspected something was up between Donvino and me. I mean, the woman was praying for divine help as I worried my inner cheek. My phone buzzed, startling me out of my fret.
Bianca. Thank the gods. She knew that the family was aware of some strange behavior on Donvino’s part. She would keep an eye out for him. I thanked her, glad to know that he had at least one person in his fam who would support him. Christ on a cracker. This day was just getting worse and worse. First Señorina Capello falling ill, then the upset at the eatery, and now this nasty storm of familial angst. Closing my eyes, I listened to the wind rustling through the leaves on the lemon trees as I tried to re-center. There was nothing for me to do right now to aid Donvino. He was out there somewhere, hurtling down small dirt roads at breakneck speed. I hoped he had taken the time to put on his helmet. The thought of him wrecking and being hurt made my tummy sour.
“Right, do not borrow trouble as Franco used to say.” I rolled to my belly and brought up the page on the Bonetti home page that I’d been poking about on. The job for a maintenance assistant manager was still there for mill 20. It sounded like something he could do. It would be hands-on work, and he had a good grasp of motors and things. The listing said he would need to focus on ensuring things were well-stocked for spare parts and supplies. Working with two full-time mechanics to install new farm equipment, make and keep work records, assist with welding when required, and head up preventive and breakdown work on tractors, harvesters, sprayers, skirters, and more.
