These Tangled Vines(55)
He thought about that for a moment, then lowered his eyes. “Not enough, I suppose. My children, though . . .”
Nodding with understanding, Lillian stood up to check on the gurgling coffeepot. “Tell me about how the two of you met.”
He spoke while watching her retrieve two mugs from the cupboard and prepare a serving tray.
“It was just after I’d recovered from my illness and my brother bought me out of the company. I didn’t really know what to do with myself at that point. I met Kate at a charity event for the homeless. She was working for the caterer, serving drinks and canapés. Later, she told me that for her, it was love at first sight, and maybe it was for me too. She was gorgeous, and I was taken with her American accent. We flirted, and before you knew it, we were heavily involved. A year later we got married, and everything seemed fine. She enjoyed living in London, and I thought we’d do anything for each other, go anywhere together. We came to Italy on a holiday, and we both fell in love with the place. When I spotted this winery for sale, she seemed in love with it, too, but maybe she was just caught up in the moment, or she was humoring me. Or maybe she thought I wouldn’t actually go through with it—go so far as to buy a winery in a foreign country and move there permanently.”
Lillian set the mugs on the tray and poured the coffee. “Go on,” she said.
He sat back and stretched out. “The winery took up a lot of my attention that first year. I was busy, and she didn’t show much interest in the business side of things, much less the work in the fields. Harvesttime is backbreaking work. Long hours. That’s when she started to get homesick for LA. So her solution was to get pregnant and start a family. I wanted children from the beginning, so I was game. Our first child—my daughter, Sloane—kept her happy for a while, until another harvest season rolled around, and she complained constantly about me being gone all the time. We fought about that, but we got through it, and she got pregnant again. Everything was fine for a while, but Kate never had any interest in the workings of the winery.”
“Which is your passion.” Lillian brought the tray of coffee to the sofa and handed Anton his cup.
“Yes. Whenever I talked about it, she was bored to tears and made no secret of it. She saw it as something that took up my time and attention. Maybe she was jealous of it, in a way.”
“It’s strange to be talking about this,” Lillian said as she sat down, “because sometimes that’s how I feel about Freddie’s manuscript. I know I can’t compete with his passion for his book, and it’s disheartening.” She paused. “But let’s not talk about that.”
Anton spooned sugar into his cup.
“Tell me more about Kate,” Lillian said.
He sat back again and sipped his coffee. “Well . . . she was always a city girl. She preferred shopping malls, while I preferred the outdoors. Although, in my defense, I do believe she misrepresented herself when we were dating. She was always keen to go camping and cycling with me. That stopped as soon as we tied the knot. She might have gone with me to a beach on a Saturday afternoon, but otherwise it was dinner out, movies, dance clubs. Maybe the willingness to go camping was all just an elaborate scheme to lure me in, and I fell for it.”
He leaned forward and set his cup down. “I’m sorry, Lillian. I’ve gone on and on. Tell me to stop, will you?”
“No. I want to hear it. I want to hear everything.”
He was quiet for a moment and looked away. “Maybe I should be grateful that we’re calling it quits now, rather than dragging things out for years when neither of us is happy because we don’t have anything in common. Truthfully, I can live without Kate, but I can’t accept being away from my children. That’s what’s killing me right now. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.”
Lillian reached for his hand and squeezed it. “You’ll get through it, and you’ll get a good lawyer who will make sure that you’ll stay a part of their lives.”
He shook his head. “Los Angeles is halfway across the world.”
“You can go there and visit. And they can come here. They must love it here, Anton. What child wouldn’t?”
He finished his coffee and set the empty cup on the tray. “Can I use the bathroom?”
“Be my guest.”
He stood up and left the room. While he was gone, Lillian carried the tray to the sink and rinsed out the cups, then stacked everything to wash in the morning.
She heard the water running in the bathroom. Then the door opened, and Anton emerged.
Lillian wiped her hands on a tea towel and faced him. His brow was furrowed. He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb between the hall and the kitchen and pressed the heels of both hands to his eyes.
“Oh, Anton . . .” She approached him. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose them.”
She took his face in her hands. “No, you won’t. You’re their father, and you’ll always be a part of their lives. You have this beautiful piece of paradise to share with them. They’re going to love coming here. And one day, they’ll bring their own children here.”
His eyes glistened with dampness, and she pulled him into her arms, where he drew comfort from her soothing words and gentle touch. His shoulders heaved with emotion, and he whispered into her hair, “Thank you.”