Page 94 of The Man with a Treasure

Who was I to say no?

I opened yet another bottle, telling her, “We can have a picnic!”

Gasp! “A pic-i-nic?”

“Yes, like in Italy. Dove, you will love them! We eat lots of food in our front yards and celebrate family and friendships.”

“Sal, we must have a pic-i-nic.”

“Yes.”

“What is a front yard?”

I looked to the glass door leading out to the balcony, that hung over the mountainside—and no front yard. Then I looked to the front door that led to a driveway that didn’t even have space to be level. “Well, a front yard is something we are lacking at the moment.”

“Oh, no. How sad.”

I chuckled. “But who am I?”

She suddenly smiled, knowing me well. “Sal Rossi! The perfect Italian specimen who gives the best kisses to…” she winked—imitating what I had taught her, “most girls. Just not Dove.”

I held my stomach, laughing so hard. “Angelo is going to love that when he gets home.”

Gasp! “I heard about homes in the books Mother used to read to me.”

Realizing my mistake, I corrected, “Your true home is in Italy, but who is to say this can’t be our temporary home?”

“Sal Rossi? The perfect Italian specimen who gives the best kisses to,” she winked, “most girls? Just not Dove?”

Now, I was falling into the counter due to laughter. “That’s right! But Sal Rossi is not saying no. In fact, he says let us have our picnic inside!”

Scarlett started clapping. “Yes! Yes! Sal Rossi is the best!”

“That is all I have been saying, all my life.” I held out my glass for hers. “What time is it?”

She happily clunked her wine glass to mine. “Cheer time!”

“Yes, Dove!” I set down my glass—after a sip, of course—then jogged to a cupboard in the dining room.

Bare feet raced to follow. She was so excited, she bumped into me. “What are we doing?”

Rummaging through a drawer, I answered, “A tablecloth.”

“Wow.”

When I held up the tablecloth, her brows bunched. “Oh. A sheet?”

“Nope! A magic cloth.”

“Wow.”

I ran back toward the kitchen. “Come on!”

Pitterpat. Pitterpat. “Oops! I spilled my wine.”

I didn’t stop running. “We have more. Picnic time! We can clean later.”

At my first attempt, I had set the tablecloth on the floor next to the kitchen. Delighted, Scarlett sat on it but placing her on the floor seemed so wrong for my Dove. And she was too far from me. I wanted her so close I could reach out and touch her at any moment I pleased.