When we get to the top of the hill I grimace a little because… Frankie’s description of the place as “gone a bit to crap” is one hell of an understatement. We stop in front of the gorgeous old villa at the top of the hill, both of us hesitating as we look at the slumped and broken porch, the crumple
“What, you like that idea, ‘Ambi?” he had said, grinning at me, I think seeing a dreamer whose spirit for this sort of work matches his own.“Yes,” I replied, a little breathless, nodding eagerly. “That’s – that’s the sort of place I’ve always dreamed of working.”“Well, you’re a good worker,” he sa
The next morning I wake up in Frankie’s arms, my back pressed to his front, and I bite my lip to hold in my little squeak of happiness. Because absolutely everything about this feels perfectly right – warm, and safe, and correct, and good.And I know – I know that crossing that line with Frankie mak
The workers begin to filter through the large kitchen about half an hour later, claiming their plates and their cups of coffee and tea, each giving Matilde and me warm greetings in whatever language is their native tongue. When Frankie comes for his plate I beam at him, marshalling all the self-cont
Matilde is immediately at my side, gasping and rapidly asking me questions in Portuguese – questions I don’t understand or don’t have time to process as my whole body shakes with the realization.That I’m…I’m…That I apparently have been the entire time I’ve been here, and that I have just been to
But I just shake my head, burying my face against his chest, wrapping my fists in the fabric of his shirt and trying to find the words, trying to figure it out – how to tell him this – how to break it to him – how not to ruin everything –“Bambi, please,” he begs, his voice breaking as he folds his
“Well, what’s really different?” he asks, looking at me seriously as he heaves a simple shrug.I gape at him, suddenly worried that he…misunderstood.But something about this just makes him laugh. “Seriously, Iris, I thought you were running out here to let me know they’d…found us or something.”Dre
The rest of my pregnancy passes happily, with about as much trouble as the first two months gave me. Which is to say…not very much at all.“I get the feeling I’m being rude,” I murmur, drifting my hand over my very-pregnant stomach and glancing out over the vineyard, which has come so far in the pas