by A. Hargrove
“Take my hand,” he said. I held on as I climbed into the large tub.
“This feels heavenly.” He assisted me until I was seated in the warm water.
“I'll give you some privacy, but call me when you need me. I'll be right outside the door.”
“Thank you.”
The warm water, with the bath salts relieved some of the aches in my muscles as I soaked. It made me feel much better. When I called for him, he popped right in.
“I think it's best to drain the tub and then use the spigot to wash my hair,” I suggested. “I'd also like to rinse off with the clean water. Do you have a pitcher nearby?”
He grabbed a large cup and handed it to me after he turned the water on. I quickly rinsed off and then he had to help me turn around and lean back to get my mass of tangles wet. After he shampooed and conditioned my hair, he helped me to my feet and gave me two fluffy towels--one for my hair and one for my body.
“This was great. My head was getting itchy.”
“Do you mind if I brush your hair?”
“Not at all.”
He'd gotten me some clean clothes and had them ready, but first he handed me some cream. “This is arnica and is excellent for bruises. Would you like to do it or do you need help?”
“I'd appreciate your help, if you don't mind.”
He used a feather-light touch to apply the cream and it barely hurt at all.
“Wow, you're really great at this.”
“I have a six-year-old, so I'm experienced.”
“It came in handy. I'm hiring you.”
When I was dressed, he brushed out my rat's nest but was very gentle. He took his time, which I appreciated since my head had as many bruises as the rest of my body did.
“You're really a pro. My head didn't even hurt. Thank you. What would I do without you?”
He grinned. “Your sister would be here.”
“Doubt it. She has twins to care for and the other one is in school. I can't see my dad giving me a bath.” Just the idea had me giggling. But that brought back an awful memory.
“What?”
“I suppose I should talk about this and not shove it into a box. When he tried to rape me, he couldn't...you know...he couldn't get it up. He still had bruises from when he attacked me the first time. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his...” I had to swallow back the horror. “He pulled it out and it was limp. It wouldn't do anything. I guess a sort of panic had set in and I laughed. It wasn't funny, it just happened but then I couldn't stop. I tried, but I think I was a little crazy by then. And that's when he went total psycho on me. I really thought he was going to kill me at that point.” When I finished, I was shaking, as in completely rattled. “I wish I'd never laughed at him.”
“Hey, you didn't do it on purpose.” Alessandro held my hand and I hadn't noticed when he'd picked it up.
“Right, but still. He came back and that's when he had the knife. Or whatever he used to cut me up. I peed myself. I was so scared.”
He took my chin and said, “Listen to me. You're the bravest person I know. You were kidnapped and nearly died. But here you are, alive and well. I'm not minimizing what you went through by any means. However, what you did kept you alive, Piper.”
“Maybe so. I just know I never want to see his face again.”
“I was talking with my father and Gabriele only has a few more days of school. I want to pull him out early so we can leave for Italy.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I spoke to your doctor before we left the hospital and he said it's safe to fly. As long as you continue to get better there's no reason not to go. We can leave tomorrow and our physician there can remove your stitches. If you want. I don't want you to feel pressure to do so. You can fly tomorrow, the doctor said.”
“I guess there's no reason to delay, is there?”
“None that I can think of. And when you get there, Nonno and the nonne will fuss over you and fatten you up like a cow.”
“We can't go then. I don't want to be a cow,” I said, laughing.
“I love cows. Therefore, the decision is made.” He kissed me.
“God, I can't wait until we can kiss, really kiss.”
“Piper, you have to stop sending me mixed signals. Do you want to be a couple or not?”
His question threw me. But then again, he was right. “Can we take it a day at a time?”
“Yes, but I'll warn you now, as soon as you're better, I want to have you again.”
“You're not the only one.” Maybe he would wash Michael out of my memories. I certainly hoped so.
The following day, we boarded their corporate jet with the Balotelli Vineyards BV logo on it, and headed to Italy. It was every bit as cushy as Evan's private jet, although not quite as large. I reclined my seat, with Gabriele sitting next to me, and slept for most of the flight.
As we were getting near, Gabriele woke me, saying, “Look, Piper, this is our home.”
We were flying over fields of green, which I imagined to be vineyards, and there appeared to be a large compound in the center of it all. It was difficult to distinguish what anything was from this distance, but I could see the place was grand.
“I can't wait to see it.”
We landed at the airport and were whisked into some kind of luxury sedan. Everyone spoke Italian, including Gabriele, making me the outsider, and I was feeling every bit of one. Once the drive began, Gabriele turned into my tour guide. He pointed everything out to me. We were on Balotelli land not long after we'd left the airport, but it took at least another thirty minutes to arrive at the house.
We drove up a long drive and it ended in a circle with a fountain in the center. At the front door stood a young woman with a uniform on. Then another one joined her, and soon two older women and a man ran out with their arms held out wide. When the car came to a stop, Gabriele tore out and ran up to the three elders.
Alessandro took my hand, saying, “Nonno and the nonne. And they are eager to meet you.”
Antonio got out of the front seat and smiled. It was obvious he was fond of his mother-in-law and his own parents. His deceased wife's parents had come to live with them after she died, but many years later, her husband had passed.
I watched Antonio as he hugged all of them. They showered kisses on Gabriele as he laughed. Alessandro helped me out of the car and I had a troop of ants marching in my belly. What if they hated me?
Antonio turned and took my arm, carefully tucking my hand into his as he walked me toward the elderly couples.
“Mamas, Papa, this is the beautiful Piper I've been raving about.” I'd never seen his grin so huge. “Piper, you may as well call them Nonno and Nonna because they will answer to nothing else.”
“How do they know which one I'm speaking to?”
“It doesn't matter. They'll all come running anyway,” Alessandro answered.
The women approached me and fussed over my injuries, each taking an arm, proclaiming I needed food, drink—as in some good wine—and lots of rest. I didn't argue but ended up in a huge kitchen that smelled divine. Alessandro was nowhere in sight, but everyone spoke English and not Italian.
Soon, a huge plate of food appeared in front of me, along with Gabriele. “I told you my nonne would feed you lots of good food. Wait until Christmas.” His eyes were as bright as I'd ever seen them. The women shooed him away from me so I could eat.
“What is this?” I asked after my first bite. “It's delicious.”
They both smiled and said something in Italian, but I didn't know what. So I just ate and ate until I couldn't swallow another bite. I'd only made it halfway through when Alessandro came in. One look at me and he cracked up.
“Oh my God, I know you tried to warn me, but this is amazing. Here, I can't eat anymore.”
He took over my plate and consumed the rest of it. “Nonne, I missed this so much.”
They fussed over him like he was a puppy, ruffling his hair, and scratching behind his ears. It
was adorable.
Then a giant plate of cookies dusted in powdered sugar landed in front of me. “Now dessert.”
“Nonne, where is the espresso?” Alessandro asked.
One of the women clapped her hands and scurried over to the huge machine on the counter. Even though both of them must've been in their late seventies, they were as spry as ever. And they had one of those restaurant type of machines—not the cheap imitation one I had. They asked whether I wanted one and Alessandro told them I preferred a cappuccino. It wasn't long before one was sitting in front of me.
“I’ll never want to leave.”
His eyes locked onto mine. “That's the plan.” My belly fluttered and it wasn't because there were a million ants in there. It was for an entirely different reason. He pushed his sexy glasses up his nose a bit and winked before he sipped his espresso.
I leaned in and whispered, “I never told you this, but I have a thing for men in glasses.” Then I said to the women, “You must show me how to make these cookies. They're the best I've ever had.” That left Alessandro with his mouth in an O and the women grinning at us both.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Alessandro
The nonne loved Piper. Then again, she was easy to love. I should know, because every day I fell harder and deeper for her.
We'd been here for three days and she was in the room that adjoined mine. After my ex went to prison, I'd moved Gabriele and myself out of that wing of the house and into another. I didn't want to experience any lingering memories of us. Then I remodeled my suite and Gabriele's room. My suite consisted of one large bedroom with a bath that had a walk-out onto the terrace. It also had an adjoining bedroom with its own bath. I'd done this as an afterthought but at the time, I had no idea why. Now it came in handy for Piper. The room was modern and luxurious, and so was the bath. It, too, led out to the terrace so we could eat breakfast out there if we chose. There was an excellent view of the vineyards from there, but the weather was too cool at the present to use it for breakfast, but in the afternoon, we could sit for a while, while the sun was high in the sky.
Piper was getting better day by day. Her bruises were still angry but had begun to turn a greenish hue. Gabriele called her The Hulk. She got a kick out of that.
“I'm going to have to grow some bigger muscles.”
“Papa can help you. He has real big ones.”
“That he does,” she said, giving me one of her looks. I was waiting for the day when we could resume our bedroom activities. My dick was getting tired of my hand.
“Piper, when does my other nonno come?” Gabriele asked.
Her mouth twisted into a variety of shapes before I could answer.
“Piccolino, he's not your other nonno yet.”
“But he will be when Piper's my mama, yes? And then I'll have more nonni. He's going to love me just like my other nonni do and I'll have little babies to play with.”
“Little babies?” Did he think because we got married we would automatically have babies?
“Yep. Piper has little babies, don't you?”
“Oh, you must mean my sister's baby boys. The twins.”
“Yeah, those little babies. I can play with them.”
“Yes, you can,” she said. “But they can't kick balls yet.”
“Why?”
“They can't even walk yet, so how can they kick?”
“I can teach them. Arthur says I'm a good teacher.”
“I'm sure you are, squirt, but they still have to grow before they can walk.”
“Why?”
“Just because. It's the way babies are.”
“Then how can they play?”
“They play differently than the way you play.”
“Like what do they do? Play Go Fish?”
“No. They can't do that yet.”
He poked out his lips and then said, “Seems like they don't have fun.”
“They do, but it's different.”
“I know. I can bring them cookies.”
I roared. “Gabriele, they don't have teeth yet, and if they do, they'll only have a few.”
“No teeth! How do they chew?”
“They don't. They drink milk.”
“That's all they do is drink milk?”
“Yeah, for now,” Piper said.
“Yuck. They can't even have candy?”
“Nope, not yet, I'm afraid.”
“I don't think I want to play with them then. They can't do anything.”
“It's okay. You'll see them when they get here. They sleep a lot.”
“Oh.” That was all he said before he ran away.
“I don't think he'll be interested in babies anymore. I couldn't help but laugh when he wanted to bring them cookies,” I said.
“I know. He's so cute though.”
“Don't let him know that. He'll manipulate you with it.”
“He already has. Sorry.” She reached for my hand and the need to hold her overtook me.
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her into my chest. “I've missed you. This. Us.”
“Me too.”
“Good thing we have adjoining rooms, yes?”
She laughed, but then stopped. “Have I been too much of a burden?”
I pulled back. “Never, ever think that. You are not that to me. And will never be that.”
“But with the nightmares. They disturb your sleep. I know they do.”
“I don't care about that. I can sleep for the rest of my life. I want you to get past that.”
Silence enveloped us until she said, “I don't think I will until I get some serious counseling.”
“Then we'll find someone who can help. Your sister?”
“Will be a start. But she can't stay with me forever.”
“I know. And when we return to Cambridge, maybe Emma can help.”
“Alessandro, I hope so. But can you put up with me until then?”
“Don't talk like that. It's not about putting up with you. It's about you getting better. I hate you're going through this. I want to see my Piper back.”
“That’s my biggest fear. What if she never comes back?”
“Then we'll live with the new Piper. But hear me out. We'll do our best in getting you help. Now come. The nonne want to stuff you with good food.”
We walked to the kitchen where they were waiting. They had our lunch prepared and then afterward I was taking her on a tour of the vineyard—just the two of us. I wanted to show her everything about this place that I loved.
The nonne fussed over her, as usual, and fed her until she patted her belly. “No more.” They were pleased. They'd told me their goal was to fatten her up. Of course they thought every woman needed to be fattened up for some reason. Poor Piper could barely walk when she got up from our robust lunch.
We walked out the back door that led to the building where the rangers were kept.
“Where are we going?”
“I'm taking you to my favorite places.”
I helped her into one of the vehicles and off we went. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm for December. We drove out to one of the vineyards with rolling hills and I stopped at the head of the row.
“These are some of the oldest vines. They've been here for over three hundred years.”
“Um, say what?”
“Yes. My family has been in this business a very long time.”
“I didn't know vines would last that long.”
“They do if you know what you're doing.”
“Apparently your family does.”
“We've all studied viticulture, including me. Did you know winemaking goes back seven thousand years?”
“Really?”
“Yes, and great vines depend on several things, including temperature, soil, and a good slope to the land because it helps to aid the way the rays of the sun hit the vine.”
“I had no idea.”
“And you wouldn't because I haven't talked about it. These are some of
our best reds. I'll show you them when we get back.”
I drove farther along and explained about harvesting time and when the taster does his testing. “Papa is the one who decides, along with the tasters, when the best time to harvest is. He has a very discerning nose and palate.”
“Wow, this is so interesting. Have you picked up his palate?”
“Yes, I have, but I leave it to him, because he enjoys it so much. It's very scientific. It's also a bit of a preference too.”
“If you don't know anything about wines, then I guess this is above someone's head.”
“It can be, but if you want to win awards, then you must be good. No, excellent.”
“I take it you win awards.”
“You must ask Papa that.” Then I laughed.
I gazed at her face as she smiled. She was enjoying this so I drove on. “I wish the grapes were ripe so you could taste them.” We'd arrived at one of the pinot grigio fields. “This is one of our best pinot grigio vines. We are one of the few who grow it down here but we’ve turned out an excellent wine. Many vineyards age theirs in stainless steel, but we use neutral wood, giving the wine a less acidic aftertaste.”
She has a confused look about her. “I thought that was a white wine.”
“It is.”
“Then why are the grapes red.” Even though there weren’t any on the vines, our rows were labeled and each label had a picture of that particular grape.
“Ah, that's because the juice is white and is separated from the solids and then transferred to another vessel for fermentation.”
“I never knew that.”
“Many people don't.”
I continued driving and we were passing Angel's Field. I had a monument erected in my baby's honor but now wasn't the time to talk about it, nor did I want to. I sped by, praying she didn't see it. Piper was too observant.
“What's that?”
“It's nothing.”
“Can we stop and look?”
Not wanting to be an asshole, I made a U-turn and drove back.
“Angel's Field. Is Angel a person or a vine?”
“Both.” My reply was short.
“Oh. Who was she?”