“Dae mentioned that you would like to walk through the vineyard without a host. Is that so?”
“Oh.” The word came easily, as did the image of Dae’s seductive gaze every time she said it. She blinked away the picture in her mind and tried to sound as if she hadn’t just experienced a full-body shiver with the memory.
“Sure. Yes, okay, thank you.” She wondered why Dae would have wanted her to spend time alone in the vineyard, but he’d surprised her in so many ways already that she didn’t hesitate to accept his offer.
“As you wish.” Giovanni nodded and his thin lips curved into a smile. “Please take your time. If you need anything, you can ask for me at the front desk.”
“Thank you.”
After Giovanni went back inside, Emily took a selfie with the stone mansion behind her and texted Dae.
I’m here and Giovanni is lovely. Thank you. The vineyards are beautiful, but I miss holding your hand. Xox.
She tucked her phone into her purse and strolled through the vineyard. The vines held bunches of tiny green grapes. Emily imagined how beautiful the vines would be in a few short months, when plump, juicy grapes would decorate them. When she reached the end of the rows, she paused to take in the view. It really was beautiful here and visually not so different from Colorado. Rolling mountains gave way to bountiful pastures, with telltale horizontal lines of farms outlined by brush and unplowed fields.
But it sure feels different from home.
She pulled the journal Dae had given her from her purse and wrote down what she remembered from the tour so she could share it with him. She’d been too distracted to remember much about what Giovanni said, so she described the wine cellar and the taste of the wines. She smiled as she jotted down the mannerisms that she found quirky about Giovanni, like the way his eyelashes fluttered as he sipped the wine and how he continually flicked nonexistent dust from his slacks.
Her mind traveled back to the evening before, and she described the way the women’s voices and faces were filled with so much emotion throughout the evening and how it created a pulse in the air. She wrote about how Serafina’s hope was renewed overnight and how Adelina had never looked happier than when they’d arrived back home that evening and she’d fallen into Marcello’s open arms as she whispered, It’s done. We did good.
She set her pen down in the center of the journal and exhaled. She knew it was silly for her to feel so attached to a house that she hadn’t even known existed two weeks ago. And it was even more unlike her to let something like that have such a big impact on her life decisions. She adored Dae. He’d waltzed into her life as if he belonged there, and her heart had responded by opening up and embracing everything about him—almost. She was still stumbling over his career, and more specifically, over the darn House of Wishes.
Why had that house become so tethered to her heart?
She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through the pictures that Dae had sent her. How had her life changed so much? How had she changed so much so fast? She couldn’t imagine a life without him by her side. Was she feeling so different and so in love because she was in Tuscany, where every breeze smelled of romance?
She scrolled through the pictures of them together. It wasn’t Tuscany.
It was him.
“I do love you, Dae.”
She stared at the picture of them in front of the cathedral and touched her lips with the memory of their first kiss.
Emily thought about Adelina and Serafina and the way Adelina seemed to know just what Serafina needed. Emily was a capable woman, and she thought of herself as having very few issues she couldn’t handle on her own, but this one felt a little too big and a little too emotional to try to wade through alone.
She drew her shoulders back and dialed her mother’s number.
“Emily? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“Nothing. Why do you sound so frantic? I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Emily, honey, do you realize it’s only five in the morning here? You scared the daylights out of me. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh no! I forgot about the time difference. Mom, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.” How could she have been so wrapped up in her own turmoil that she’d forgotten she was a million miles away?
“Oh, no, you don’t. Now that my heart has leaped from my chest and flopped on the floor a half dozen times? No way, honey. Now you have to talk to me. How are you? How’s Italy? Daisy tells me that you’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow.”
Catherine Braden had raised six children on her own after her husband had taken off with a woman from a neighboring town. He’d had the nerve to come back to try to squeeze Catherine’s inheritance from her, but from what Emily had heard over the years, her uncle Hal, who lived in Weston, Colorado, had gotten wind of her father’s underhanded ways and put a stop to them. At six foot six, Uncle Hal was a formidable man, with shoulders as wide as a stairwell and a barrel chest that even in his sixties still roared of virility. Emily didn’t want to know what he’d done to her father. Braden loyalty ran deep, and Catherine was every bit as protective of her brood as Uncle Hal was of those he loved.
Emily heard that protectiveness in her mother’s voice now, and for some reason it made her feel as though she might cry.
“Italy is amazing, and yes, Daisy’s right. That’s really why I’m calling.”
“Hold on, honey. I need to be up for this.”
She heard her mother shifting on her bed and breathing a little harder. She was on the move. Emily imagined her walking through the sprawling house on top of the mountain that Emily had grown up in, making her way down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Okay, coffeemaker is on, sweetie. What’s going on?”
Emily sighed, suddenly feeling both a little foolish for having woken her mother up and relieved to be talking with her.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning is rarely best when it comes to matters of the heart. So why don’t you start with what’s going on right now. I assume if you’re calling me at the crack of dawn, then you’re having a hard time.”
“Kind of, yeah. His name is Dae Bray, and, Mom, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. We met the first night I was here, and we’ve spent every day together since.” She realized her lips were curved in an effortless smile.
“This is good news. He treats you well, he’s a good man, and all that, I assume? Someone your slightly overprotective brothers won’t want to clobber?”
“Oh my goodness, yes. Total alpha, but with a tender side, like they are.”
“I’m not an expert on love, Em. You know this. Obviously there’s a but coming, so lay it on me.”
Emily inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “He’s a demolitionist. He tears down or blows up things. Houses, buildings, whatever.”
“Okay. I see. Well…that’s not the end of the world. We need demolitionists in our world; you know that.”
“Yup.”
“You’re not a small-minded person, so I can’t imagine that you’d feel like you were at odds with this man’s career.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Oh, my word. Emily Braden, what has gotten into you?”
“Nothing!” She stood and paced. “I’m not at odds with his career in general. He loves what he does. I’d never try to change that.” Would I? Am I?
“Then I need coffee more than I thought.”
She heard the clank of silverware to cup and imagined her mother in her sleeping shirt, sitting down at her large dining room table, staring out at the mountains and shaking her head at her bullheaded daughter.
“There’s this house here that has this myth attached to it. They call it the House of Wishes. Women come from all over to make wishes that supposedly come true. It’s an amazing property with an old house that has this massive tree growing right in the wall. And, Mom, I went last night with the women who run the villa where I’m staying, and there must have been fifty women
there. It was as warm as a family reunion, only most of these women didn’t even know one another. But they came together to wish for the property to be saved from demolition, and the energy, the sense of community and caring…It was amazing. And that’s the house that Dae was here to tear down.”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. This is the Emily I know and love. You’ve fallen in love with what that house represents. With the sense of community and the mythical qualities that it brings with it. Em, don’t you see? That’s how you were raised. We care about family and traditions above all else. It’s in your blood. Think about college breaks, when everyone came home, or even now, when Pierce and Jake come into town.”
“And we all get together? I love that so much.”
“Exactly. It’s what has always made you the happiest, being with those you love. I’m the same way. You’re so used to our attitude of family and traditions trumping all else that you expect Dae to be the same way. You probably don’t even realize it, but a part of you wants him to prove he loves you by not tearing down a house that is attached to something you’ve come to cherish.”
“You don’t have to make me sound so selfish.” I seem to be doing that just fine on my own.
“Oh, Emily. First of all, I know you well enough to realize that you don’t actually need him to prove his love by not tearing down that house.”
“Thank you.” She held her chin up a little higher.
“But…I also know you well enough to know that you’ve been this way your whole life. You see things in black-and-white. Since you were little you judged right and wrong based on what your heart felt, rather than, well, in some cases, what made sense. And you’ve never had much tolerance for those who didn’t see things your way.”
Emily hadn’t counted on her mother knowing her better than she knew herself, which was stupid, really, because Catherine Braden not only made it her business to know her children well, but she also had no issue pulling them back down to reality when they needed it.
“I think I’m very reasonable.” She had to at least try to defend herself.
“Reasonable, yes. But tolerant? Not so much.”
“Mom,” she huffed.
“Think about it, Em. You’re in a field where perfection counts, and you’re rarely tolerant of builders straying from your plans. You have always spoken your mind, and when you think you’re right, it takes a lot to convince you otherwise. Not that that’s bad. I admire your tenacity. I think everyone who knows you does, but, Em, what do you really want from Dae? Do you really want him to make his career decisions based on you?”
“No, of course not.” Maybe a little?
“You sound certain, but I’m not buying it.”
Her mother had always been straightforward, and usually she appreciated that. Today Emily wondered if her mother could try to buy it. Even if just a little?
“Emily, you are a kindhearted, sensitive woman. You’re intelligent, successful, and as strong and stubborn as any of your brothers. And as much as I love you, I’m not going to pretend that those qualities won’t sometimes cause you trouble in a relationship. No relationship is easy.”
“I know, but Luke, Wes, Pierce, and Ross make it look easy.”
“Oh, honey. They adore their girls, but it’s never easy. We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. Think about it. Do you think Callie loves Wes coming home with stitches or broken bones from wrestling cattle or mountain climbing or whatever else he does?”
Emily laughed. Callie was very sweet and demure while Wes was a thrill seeker. They’d all seen the way Callie gasped and turned away when he was bull riding or roping steer and how Wes softened when he was around her.
“No. She hates it.”
“And yet she knows it’s part of who he is and loves him and supports his riskiness. And Rebecca knows Pierce will always try to do everything for her, and when he’s able to control that protective nature, it’s done with so much restraint that he practically has smoke coming out of his ears.”
She smiled at the thought of her eldest brother reining in his protective nature. “So, you’re saying that I need to decide if I can love Dae no matter what he decides about this house or any other property?”
“Yes. One day he might implode a building that you feel is an architectural masterpiece. Then what?” Her mother pushed her even further than she’d dare push herself.
Emily pressed her lips into a thin line, fighting against the discomfort of the truth in her mother’s words.
“I guess I need to be okay with whatever decision he makes, now or in the future, and I have to trust that his decisions are made with the best intentions.” Emily groaned. “I’m being selfish, Mom, and I know that. I mean, I know all of this on some level, but I haven’t wanted to see it or think about it.”
“I know you do, honey.”
“Yeah.” Emily laughed a little. “Only you would push me up against a brick wall until I opened my eyes. Thanks, Mom, and I don’t mean that as sarcastically as it sounds.”
“I know.” Her smile was evident in her voice. “It’s only fair to you and him if you deal with this now. I’m not going to give you a lecture about the differences between men and women. You’ve lived through it with your brothers. But you see what the house represents on an esoteric level, and he’s a man. Chances are, he sees the tangible structure, the house and the property.”
“Yeah, I know that. But honestly, he’s so thoughtful that I can’t imagine he doesn’t see what the house means to the community. He might choose not to think about it, but I’m sure he sees it.”
“I guess with you as a girlfriend he has to, because you’re not very good at keeping your opinions to yourself.”
She heard her mother’s smile in her voice. “I wonder where I get that from.”
They both laughed, and Emily felt a little better.
“Here’s the thing, Mom. I think I know all those things, but it doesn’t lessen the hurt I feel every time I think about that house coming down.” She thought about their preserve or demolish lists and wondered what his said.
“I know, honey. And unfortunately, that’s how you’re wired. It’s in your makeup to be emotional. When you love, you love with your whole heart and your whole being. And whether the focus of your love is tangible or intangible, anything that hinders whatever it is you’re focused on feels like a betrayal.”
“Like Coco.” Coco was the stuffed bear Emily’d had since she was a little girl. When she was young, her brothers would hide Coco in the closet to tease her, and Emily would cry because she believed that since she hated being alone in the dark, Coco would, too. It didn’t matter that Coco was a stuffed bear. To six-year-old Emily, Coco was very, very real. Emily still got a pang of sadness every time she thought about Coco being locked in a dark closet. Gosh, could she still be like that?
“Yes, like Coco. It’s a house, Em.” Her mother laughed, and then her voice became serious. “Myths and traditions survive within us. It’s what they mean to us that carries them forward. A house is just a structure, something to focus on while the other stuff is taking place. Honey, the thing you need to figure out is if you love Dae no matter what. If you trust him to make smart decisions that are right for him, even if they’re different from the decisions you might want him to make.”
Emily sighed. She knew all of this; she really did. It was just piecing it into making a decision that was hard. She couldn’t even begin to think she’d walk away from the relationship. She just needed to figure out what was going on in her own head. Talking to her mother helped. It always helped.
“Every time I think of him, I feel him, you know? Like he’s right here with me. He does this thing where he says, Hand or arm. It’s stupid, but it’s so him. It’s like he doesn’t have to think about if I’ll let him hold my hand or put his arm around me; it’s just a matter of which one I choose. He knew we were right for each other from the moment we set eyes on each other, and here I am being a doofus.”
“A sweet, lovable doofus, at least.”
“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes.
“Emily, let me ask you something. I heard through the grapevine that Mr. Mangione talked to you about designing the private school he’s going to build in Allure. If Dae asked you not to build it as a passive building, would you listen to him and build by conventional standards? Or for that matter, would you turn down the job altogether?”
“This is different.”
“Is it?”
She plunked back down beside her purse and journal and exhaled loudly.
“Oh, Em. The heart isn’t a rational organ. Nothing ever seems to make sense when you’re in love. But I have faith in you. You’re a smart woman with a heart bigger than the state of Colorado. You’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks for believing in me, Mom. Right now I don’t feel very smart at all.”
“That’s what love does to you. It takes you as high as the clouds, and then suddenly you’re freefalling toward the ground at breakneck speed. If you’re lucky, you figure it all out before you crash and drift comfortably until the next crisis. Or until the next exciting thing happens. Either way, one thing’s for sure, and you’re not going to want to hear it.”
“It can’t be worse than half the things I’ve thought of myself lately, so go ahead; give it to me straight.”
“I always do, sweetheart. If it’s true love, he won’t need to change a thing about himself or what he believes in. And neither will you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
ON HER WAY back to the resort, Emily stopped at the sunflower field she and Dae had visited on their way to Chianti. With the photo of herself in hand, she tried to figure out exactly where they’d been when Dae had taken the picture. She looked out over the sea of yellow petals reaching for the sun and sighed. How on earth was she going to do this?
This is impossible.
Dae’s voice floated into her mind. When you love someone, anything is possible.
She held the photograph out in front of her, scrutinizing the flowers and her profile. She didn’t feel like the relaxed, happy person in the picture. She felt like her nerves were pinched, and after her mother’s advice, even her stomach felt like it was being squeezed too tight. Was it really true? Did true love mean neither of them should change? At all? What about compromising?
Dreaming of Love Page 20