Page 22 of The Fall Affair

“It does.”

“I spent every summer in Tuscany growing up. My parents would come to visit for a few weeks, and when it was time to go, I’d ask if I could stay. By the time I was a teenager, I was coming as soon as I got out of school and staying for the entire summer, flying by myself.” She shook her head. “New York is just so different. Time rushes by, and it’s hard to find your place there. Here the days felt endless, and it was easy to fit in, even though I was an outsider. My grandmother always made sure to have an old bike ready for me when I arrived. She traded them up for bigger sizes over the years, and I’d ride the gravel roads lined with cypress trees into the village for gelato and spend entire afternoons lying in the grass with a book before helping my grandmother cook dinner. The locals knew me by name back then, and I felt like I belonged.” She sighed. “Now I feel like more of an intruder.”

“That will change. It takes time to settle in.”

“I suppose.”

She seemed lost in thought for a while after that, but eventually Allegra shifted in her seat to face me. “So what’s your story? Is this your first vineyard?”

I shook my head. “My family has been in the wine-making business for three generations. I worked in my parents’ vineyard growing up, and then again after I finished at university. But it’s the first of my own. I still use their winery to produce the wine, but I hope to build my own in the next few years.”

“Owning your own winery sounds so romantic.”

“If you find fighting pests and fungi romantic, I guess it is.”

Allegra smiled. “They don’t show that part in movies.”

“What’s your plan while you’re in Toscana?” I asked.

“I don’t really have one. I’ve got an appointment to meet with my grandmother’s lawyer tomorrow to see what I need to do to probate her estate. Other than that, I figured I’d keep the shop open to sell off some of the inventory and clean out the house.”

“Clean it out to sell it?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

I frowned, though it was probably better to have a new neighbor than keep the place empty. “That property is in your family for two hundred years.”

“I know. But I live in New York. And I don’t really have anyone here anymore, except for my grandmother’s sister, who I never got to know too well.”

“That’s all the more reason to hang on to a property, yes? Land connects you to your history. It remembers the people who lived on it and teaches the next generation about them without us even knowing it.”

She smirked. “Now you really sound like my grandmother. How old are you?”

I chuckled. “That’s because it is something she said. Every year on our birthdays, we would share a Vin Santo—a sweet wine made locally—at the end of the day. On her birthday, she played a Sinatra album, and I dance with her in da kitchen.”

“Really? Like my grandfather always did?”

I nodded. “She said it was the one gift she wished she had every year.”

“That’s so sweet. I hope she did something equally as meaningful on your birthday.”

“She cooked my favorite meal and gave me the gift of wisdom—like the bit about land teaching da next generation without them knowing it. The wisdom gift was her idea when I told her there was nothing I needed. But I always appreciated the advice she gave me.”

Allegra sighed. “I really miss her.”

“We should stop and pick up a tree to plant in your grandmother’s…giardino della vita. I don’t know how to say it in Inglese—da place where she plants the trees for the people.”

Her brows pulled together. “What trees for people?”

“At the back of the property, there is a small area with a mishmash of trees.”

“Where her swing is?”

“Si. That’s your grandmother’s tree garden. The swing, it is hung from your grandfather’s oak.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Each tree represents a member of your family. One is planted whenever someone passes. I thought about planting one when Sophia passed, but I didn’t wanta overstep.”