The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany(59)

Lucy tells Sofia about waiting tables at Rulli’s. “It’s a job,” she says. “Not exactly a career. Someday I’d like a place of my own, a business I can pass on, you know, to my kids or whatever.” Her cheeks turn pink, as if she’s embarrassed to have shared her dream, and I’ve never loved my cousin more. Is that what she wished for on the falling star?

At the far side of the lawn, the door to the guest cottage pushes open. Little Dante appears in his pajamas, followed by Franco. They look in both directions until they spot Sofia.

“Mamma!” they cry, charging toward her.

Sofia leaps from the chaise and meets them in the soft grass. She squats down and they fall into her open arms.

“My little men!” she says, kissing them both.

Lucy and I watch as the two boys climb atop their mother like she’s their jungle gym. She topples over and the three of them scream with laughter.

“That,” Lucy whispers to me, keeping her eyes on the trio. “That’s what I wished for.”

My throat seizes.

“That’s a lovely wish, Luciana.” I turn to see Aunt Poppy coming up behind us. “I wonder what it is that’s keeping you from it.”

Lucy’s eyes meet Poppy’s, and I’m guessing she’s got a dozen blazing replies at the ready. I haven’t found a boyfriend, never mind a husband. Thanks to Em, I’m still in the dating trenches. Perhaps if you’d break the damn curse, I’d have a chance!

But Lucy seems to be pondering the question in earnest. “I’m a single waitress. Not exactly mom material.”

“What you do isn’t important,” Poppy says. “It’s what you’re going to do that matters.” She takes Lucy by the shoulders and gently pivots her toward Sofia’s little family. “Believe in your dream, my dear. It’s possible.”



* * *





After a lunch of Caprese sandwiches—crusty bread topped with fresh mozzarella, juicy tomatoes, and basil—I gently suggest that Poppy take a nap. She huffs, as if the notion of a siesta were ludicrous. “Why lie in a bedroom when you can sit in the park?” I can’t help but notice how raspy her voice sounds. “Nature is the best healer, don’t you agree?”

Gabriele grins. “Okay, stubborn one.” He grabs his car keys from the counter. “We will go to my favorite park—the Bardini Garden. You will love it.” He glances over at me. “I believe you will, too, Emilia.”

My heart does a little jig.

“Sounds like a plan,” Lucy says, coming up beside me.

“I must get sunscreen for the boys,” Sofia says.

Twenty minutes later, all seven of us pile into Gabe’s SUV and head to Florence. This time, Lucy sits up front with Gabriele. I have to tamp down a flicker of jealousy.

We enter the bustling city, where buses and taxis and cars jockey with scooters and bicycles. “The statues in the park are magnificent,” Gabe says. “And you will notice all kinds of birds—rock pigeons, wood pigeons, blackbirds.”

“Any rides?” Lucy asks. “Ferris wheels? Roller coasters?”

He laughs, as if she were joking. “No, Lucy. It is not Disneyland.”

We cross the Arno River, where a single rower sweeps the sleepy water with his oar. The city quiets. Gabe parks along a wide boulevard. Poppy leans against me as we walk toward the park entrance. Despite the day’s warm temperature, she’s wearing her bulkiest sweater, and still her hand is like ice in mine. Fear prickles my skin. Earlier, she felt too warm.

Sofia and Lucy stroll ahead of us, trying to keep up with Franco and Dante. “Slow down, little men,” Sofia calls. They don’t listen. Franco runs full force, his shoelace trailing behind him. Seconds later, he’s planted facedown on the pavement, wailing.

“You are okay,” Sofia says, examining his bloody knee. But Franco isn’t convinced. His cries grow louder, and soon Dante joins in.

“Ah, not you, too, Dante,” Gabe says, bending down. “What have I told you? Vernasco men do not cry.”

Lucy huffs and elbows her way to Dante. “Don’t worry,” she says, squatting down beside the boy. “Your brother is okay.” She turns to Sofia. “You go ahead. I’ll hang with these two.”

Sofia looks at Lucy as if she’d just offered to donate a kidney. “You would do that?”

“I’m not a huge fan of statues and birds.” She tousles Dante’s hair. “And I’m dying for some gelato. How about you?”

Dante squeals. Franco jumps to his feet, his knee miraculously healed. “Me, too?”

Lucy slaps him a high five. “Absolutely!”

Sofia crosses her arms. For the longest time, she simply smiles at Lucy and the boys. Finally, she turns to Gabe. “Shall we meet back here at four?”

“You are not coming inside? You love the Bardini.”

My cousin shoos her away. “Go. Have fun. I’ve got this.”

Sofia shakes her head. “Today, I prefer gelato.”

I watch, curious, as my cousin and her new friend Sofia disappear down the street alongside the boys. She’s passing up a day with Gabriele?

“Your cousin is very sweet,” Gabe says, his eyes lingering on the happy quartet.