The Villa

as I hate the idea, I suppose the thing to do is call a summit meeting so everyone in the family's aware and on guard. But… I wanted to tell you first."
    He stayed as he was, crouched, his hand dwarfing hers. Overhead a cloud teased the edges of the sun and filtered the light.
    "Here's what I want to do. I want to hunt him down and peel the skin off his bones with a dull knife. Until that happy day, I want you to promise me something."
    "If I can."
    "No, Sophie, there's no if. You don't go anywhere by yourself. Not even from the villa to here. Not even for a walk in the gardens or a quick trip to the goddamn mini-mart. I mean it." . "I understand how worried you are, but—"
    "You can't understand, because it's unreasonable. It's indescribable." He tripped her heart by bringing her free hand up, pressing his lips to the palm. "If I wake up in the middle of the night and you're not there, I break out in a cold sweat."
    "Ty."
    "Shut up, just shut up." In one fast and fluid move, he got to his feet to walk off the nerves and the rage. "I've never loved anyone before. I didn't expect it to be you. But it is, and that's it. You're not doing anything to mess this up for me."
    "Well, naturally, we can't have that."
    He turned, gave her a look of profound frustration. "You know what I mean, Sophie."
    "Fortunately for you, I do. I don't intend to mess this up for you, or me, either."
    "Great. Let's go pack your things."
    "I'm not moving in with you."
    "Why the hell not?" Frustration had him dragging his hands through his hair. "You're there half the time anyway. And don't give me that lame excuse about needing to be home to help with the wedding."
    "It's not a lame excuse, it's a reason. Potentially a lame reason. I don't want to live with you."
    "Why? Just tell me why."
    "Maybe I'm old-fashioned."
    "Like hell you are."
    "Maybe I'm old-fashioned," she repeated, "in this one area. I don't think we should live together. I think we should get married."
    "That's just another…" The words sank in, momentarily dulled his brain. "Whoa."
    "Yes, and with that scintillating response, I need to go back home and call the police."
    "You know, one day you're actually going to let me work through a process at my own time and pace. But since that isn't the case on this one, at least you could ask me in a more traditional way."
    "You want me to ask you? Fine. Will you marry me?"
    "Sure. November's good for me." He cupped her elbows, lifted her a couple inches off the ground. "Which was when I was going to ask you—but you always have to be first. I figured we could get married, have a nice honeymoon and be back home before pruning time. Kind of a tidy and symbolic cycle, don't you think?"
    "I don't know. I have to think about it. Culo ."
    "Back at you, honey." He gave her a hard kiss, then dropped her back on her feet. "Let me finish this vine, then we'll go call the cops. And the family."
    "Ty?"
    "Mmm."
    "Just because I did the proposing doesn't mean I don't want a ring."
    "Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it."
    "I'll pick it out."
    "No, you won't."
    "Why not? I'm the one who'll be wearing it."
    "You're the one wearing your face, too, but you didn't pick that out, either."
    On a sigh, she knelt beside him. "That makes absolutely no sense." But she tipped her head onto his shoulder as he worked. "When I came here I was scared and angry. Now I'm scared, angry and happy. It's better," she decided. "A lot better."
     
    "This is who we are," Tereza stated, lifting her glass. "And who we choose to be."
    They were dining alfresco, in a kind of Giambelli reflection of the ad. A purposeful choice, Sophia thought. Her grandmother would stand straight against a threat and kick it dead in the balls if need be.
    The evening was warm, the sunlight still brilliant. In the vineyards beyond the lawns and gardens, the grapes were growing fat and the Pinot Noir, as Tyler had predicted, was just beginning to turn.
    Forty days till harvest, Sophia thought. That was the old rule. When the grapes took color, harvest was forty days away. Her mother would be married by then, and just back from her honeymoon. Maddy and Theo would be her brother and sister, and back in school. She would be planning her own wedding, though she'd pressured Tyler not to announce their engagement yet.
    Life could continue because, as La Signora said, this is who they were. And who they chose to be.
    "When we have trouble," Tereza continued, "we band together. Family. Friends. This year has