To Tuscany with Love

by Gail Mencini

  “Spectacular,” he said. “You are absolutely breathtaking. Come, join me on the sofa.” He retrieved his wineglass and motioned to the sofa in front of the lit fireplace.

  Bella sat beside him and took a sip of wine.

  “Earlier today, you were sad about not seeing David,” he said. “I have a solution. When the reunion is over, instead of you returning to New York and me to Prague, let’s go to Africa together. I’ll arrange everything. We can see David. Maybe even take in a safari.” He gave her a meaningful nod. “It’s time for you to finally introduce me to your son.”

  It was as if a knobby-fingered gargoyle had clutched her throat and squeezed. She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know if it’d be right. Maybe not yet. You and I haven’t been together for years. It’d be confusing. Complicated.”

  “Shh.” Stillman’s fingertips silenced her lips. “That part about you and I not being together, well, I’d certainly love to remedy that.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “That was objection one, the ‘confusing’ argument. And as for ‘complicated,’ it isn’t complicated at all. Coincidentally, Phillip isn’t the only one involved in charity work. I’m on the board of a foundation—which means I’m one of their major donors—and we actually fund some projects in Africa.”

  Stillman’s voice was calm and even. “Here.” He found a picture on his smartphone and held it out for her to look at. “Take a look at one of the projects we fund.” The picture showed the early stages of construction of some kind of building.

  Bella’s throat was dry. “I don’t know if I can get away.”

  “If you don’t have time for the safari this trip, we can limit our trip to seeing David.”

  “He’s always so busy, telling me it’s not a good time to visit. I’d have to e-mail him first.”

  “I’ve already done that.”

  Bella stared at him in shock.

  “With the Internet, it’s not hard to research people. I know a great deal about David. His clinic’s coming along nicely. See?” Stillman flipped through more pictures on his phone. When he found the one he was looking for, he held it for her to see.

  It was a photograph of Stillman with his arm over David’s shoulders, standing in front of the African clinic. The background of this picture was identical to the one he had shown her of his foundation’s project. “We’re friends, you see, David and I.”

  Questions pummeled her brain, but she couldn’t speak.

  “It started as business, when our foundation donated the money for the clinic. After a few trips to inspect the progress, we became friends.”

  “You were the anonymous donor?”

  Stillman nodded, with a pleased expression on his face. “It was easy to locate him. The challenging part was waiting for a plausible reason to go visit.”

  This was surreal. She blinked and looked again at the picture on Stillman’s phone. Handsome David—a younger version of Phillip—standing next to Stillman.

  “I have to admit, his looks nearly cost him the donation, but I got over it.”

  Bella choked.

  Stillman patted her back. “Are you all right?”

  Her mind reeled. “Why? Why did you do this?”

  Stillman cleared his throat. His words were slow and precise. “After you turned down my proposal, I was angry and hurt. I left the States and immersed myself in work. Eventually, I wondered if you had turned me down because of David, that for some reason you were afraid to let the two of us meet. So I searched him out and then waited for an opportunity to fly to Africa and meet him.”

  “Does David know our history?”

  “No. I wanted him to know me without the burden of our collective past.”

  Two conflicting emotions swirled inside Bella. Relief that she didn’t have to keep David hidden from Stillman any longer and fury that he had gone behind her back and basically bribed her son into liking him. Mostly, though, it was fury. “Our collective past? Quaint expression, but one that certainly doesn’t do justice to the truth. How dare you bribe my son?”

  “You’re upset for only one reason. I went off on my own and made friends with your son. Phillip’s son. By the way, my dear, it’s obvious that Phillip’s still hot for you. Have you told him that you have a child and that he’s the daddy?”

  A noise behind them made Bella and Stillman turn toward the doorway. Phillip stood there, ashen-faced, with a bottle of Prosecco and two glasses in his hands. Without a word, he turned and stomped down the hall.

  48

  Bella raced after Phillip. She caught up with him in the garden. He had abandoned the glasses and wine nearby on the ground. Phillip faced the twinkling lights of Florence and didn’t acknowledge her when she ran up beside him. She placed her palm on his back. He stepped away from her touch.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you. But I was devastated when you dumped me. And so very angry. I didn’t want you to be with me merely because I was pregnant. I was too damn proud for that.” Tears tumbled out of her eyes. “I hated you for abandoning me, for abandoning us.”

  Phillip didn’t move and didn’t speak.

  “What you did to me pales in comparison, though, to my sins. I kept your son from you and wronged both of you in the process. It’s inexcusable, but please don’t take it out on David. He is your son, and although it should have happened years ago, he deserves to know his father.”

  Still facing the horizon, Phillip asked, “What’s he like?”

  “Handsome. Intelligent. Motivated. Athletic, generous, caring, and quick-witted. He’s like his father. Like you.”

  “If I hadn’t been there to eavesdrop, would you have told me?”

  Bella moved to stand between Phillip and the retaining wall he faced, blocking his view of Florence. “Yes. I came to Italy to tell you about him, about everything.”

  He gazed into her eyes, but she couldn’t read them.

  “Why did you kiss me?” Phillip asked.

  “Because, damn you, every touch and every look from you took me back to that weekend in Castellina, and I wanted to love you all over again. I had to find out, by kissing you, if it was real or my imagination.”

  “And?”

  Bella nestled his face in her hands and kissed him like it was their last night together, which, for all she knew, it was. Never again would she be too proud to fight for someone she loved. Her pride thirty years ago had cost them all too dearly. She pulled away first.

  “I love you,” she said. “I never stopped loving you, even when I hated you more than anyone on Earth, I still loved you.”

  “What about Stillman?”

  She looked him squarely in the eye. Bella was done with lying. “Do you remember when the two of you asked me to choose between you?”

  He nodded.

  “I couldn’t, because I was attracted to you both. Well, the truth is, I know now that I love you both.”

  His eyes lowered.

  With one hand under his chin, she lifted his face and made him look at her. “I love you both, but in different ways. I knew that thirty years ago, and it’s still true. It’s you that I want to be with, and spend my life with. Only you. That’s why I kissed you. I needed to know if that was still true, and it is.”

  Phillip’s lips slowly broke into a smile. Then he wrapped his arms around her and there, under a sky filled with stars and the lights of Florence on the horizon, he kissed her, and thirty years of time and mistakes fell away.

  49

  Bella dreaded facing Stillman, but that dread, like so much of her past, was wasted energy. Stillman knew that she had left him to run after Phillip. He also knew that Bella and Phillip had both missed dinner.

  She left Phillip in her room and went to find Stillman by herself. He was at a bistro table in the outdoor breakfast area, smoking a cigar. Funny, she never knew that he smoked cigars. He looked up when she approached the table.

  “I guess Phillip won,” he said. His expression was calm and no
ncommittal.

  “Was it always a contest for you?”

  “Bella, my love,” he exaggerated his Southern drawl, “I always loved you, but I have to admit, winning your love would have been that much sweeter because it would have meant I won.”

  She gestured to the cigar. “How about you put that out and we walk the path around the garden?”

  “Hmm. Never knew you were a bossy gal.”

  Bella laughed. “What happened to the sophisticated Manhattan attorney I know? He kept only a trace of his accent.”

  Stillman tapped out the cigar and stood up. He tucked her arm into his and said in his normal voice, “He’s here, too. Didn’t you ever hear that expression about not being able to take the country out of the boy?”

  Bella wanted to flush out all of her thoughts, issues, and concerns; it was her new style of dealing with matters. “In chronological order, I resent you going behind my back to meet David. And using your foundation’s grant money to basically bribe your way into his good graces? Despicable. Admittedly, his clinic will help thousands of people from the surrounding villages. Because of that, I’m thrilled that he received the grant. I thank you for your generosity.”

  She stopped walking and faced him. “Deceiving me, and pretending you hadn’t met David. Pretending that you didn’t know Phillip was his father. These deceptions are inexcusable, if you truly loved me and wanted me as your wife.”

  “You weren’t honest with me about David.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry about that. I was afraid you’d leave me if you knew the truth.”

  “So little faith in me.”

  “That’s not true,” Bella said. “The truth is that I was a coward. David was my little secret, and I was afraid to face the consequences of disclosing who fathered him. I was afraid to face the fallout, not only with respect to you, but also to David and to Phillip.”

  She grabbed both of his hands in hers. “I love both you and Phillip, but in different ways. I told him the same thing. He’s the one I want to have as my life partner, but you’ve been my friend for a very long time, and I don’t want to lose you.” She leaned in and feathered a kiss on his cheek. “Is that possible for you? To be my dear friend, and Phillip’s friend, too?” She squeezed his hands and searched his face with her eyes.

  “Only if you, and not Phillip, still decides who you hug.”

  Bella laughed and gave her friend an enormous hug. “Thank you.”

  Stillman hugged her back and then stepped away. “You know, I’m truly impressed by your son. You should be very proud of him. He’s responsible for showing me how gratifying it is to help someone less fortunate. It’s about time I embraced philanthropy, because without family,” he chuckled, “what am I going to do with it? Bury it with me?” He steered them back toward the courtyard.

  Hope, Lee and Rune walked out of the palazzo and waited for Stillman and Bella to reach them. Rune had brought two bottles of Prosecco, and Hope had a tray of champagne glasses.

  “We need to celebrate,” Hope said, placing the tray on a table. “We have to toast Lee, on taking the leap and following his passion for sculpture.”

  Rune popped a cork off one bottle and let it soar out it into the garden. He filled Stillman in about how Bella had orchestrated Lee’s admission to the University.

  “I hate to be the practical one here, Lee,” Stillman said, “but if you return in a couple of months for this class, what happens to your wife? Will she leave her work and tag along?”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know,” Lee said. “But Merry and I will talk and then decide if we’re staying together, or if it’s time to separate. Either way, I’m coming back to study sculpture. If I don’t do it now, when will I?”

  Meghan bounced into the courtyard holding Giacomo’s hand. The Italian had that telltale look and swagger of a well-satiated man.

  Rune saluted Giacomo with the open bottle. “Looks like you two have some celebrating to do as well.”

  Meghan giggled. “Absolutely we do. I'm staying here in Italy with Giacomo.”

  The Italian beamed and threw his arms around Meghan.

  Rune filled the flutes with sparkling wine and passed out the glasses. They raised their glasses in a toast and took a celebratory swallow of Prosecco.

  Phillip entered the courtyard and smiled when he saw the festive crowd. “What are we celebrating?”

  “You,” Rune said, “for bailing me out. Bad news is that then all of you,” he added, pointing to the others with his glass, “will be stuck with me for a while, because, with your help, Phillip, I’m going to beat this cancer.”

  “You sure as hell will,” Hope said. “Besides, I need you to help me talk Stillman into producing a documentary in Colorado. He’ll probably need a director, you know.”

  Stillman laughed. “I probably will.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Rune downed his glass of Prosecco. He set it on a table. “Don’t worry,” he said, patting the glass, “I’ll be back.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Rune moved to Hope and put his hands on her shoulders. “What about you? How are you going to be, returning to asshole-land?”

  Hope nodded. “I’ll be fine. No, scratch that. I’ll be damn fine, because I’ll be divorcing the asshole. And if he gives me any trouble, I’ve got a bunch of successful, kick-ass friends,” she grinned, “who I’m counting on to come to my aid.”

  Everyone cheered and seconded her remark. Rune opened the second bottle of wine and refilled his glass.

  “I have a toast,” Bella said, handing Phillip a glass of bubbly. She raised hers to the sky. “I’d like to toast a remarkable man, the one of us who had the courage, and the money, to bring us all here for this reunion. To you, Stillman.” She smiled at Stillman and then at Phillip.

  “Thank you,” Stillman said.

  Bella took a sip of her Prosecco. “Not to be presumptuous, but do you imagine there might be another reunion?”

  “Why?” Stillman asked, smiling.

  Bella wrapped one arm around Phillip. “Well, because I haven’t told everyone about my son, David, yet. And that can’t happen until Phillip gets to meet him, since he’s David’s father.”

  All of their eyes were on her now.

  She clinked her glass against Phillip’s. “Phillip and I are just beginning our lives together.” She smiled and sipped her wine. “I love being a rule-breaker. And what did the invitation say, Stillman? ‘No spouses, children, or friends allowed.’ That rule is begging to be broken.”

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My special thanks to my editor, Patti Thorn, whose knowledge and kind but firm wisdom allowed my characters to follow their true paths. My sincere gratitude to Nick Zelinger, who created the beautiful cover and interior that transports us to Tuscany. Thank you, copy editor Michael Rudeen, for keeping me honest and grammatical. Judith Briles, you guided the process with expertise and clarity, and for this I am truly grateful.

  I would like to express my deep gratitude to dear friends Susie, Greg, and all of our Vespa group, and you know why. I sincerely thank the charming and hospitable people of Tuscany for their warmth and kindness.

  My writing life wouldn’t be possible without the love and support of my friends and family. Making time to write with four remarkable sons, Brandon, Justin, Nathan, and Damian, and their loved ones was a challenge, but they were always there for me, with encouragement and understanding. I offer all of my friends and family, as well as those who watch and applaud from the next life, my immense gratitude for their love and constant support.

  Most of all, I offer my profound thanks to my dear husband, Ray, best friend and soul mate, inexhaustible reader and unwavering cheerleader. You are my world.

  Last, but certainly not least, my heartfelt thanks go to you, my readers, who make this possible.

  Gail Mencini is the best-selling and award-winning author of the debut novel To Tuscany with Love. A frequent visitor to Tuscany and a homegrown gourm
et cook, she has toured Italy by car, train, bus, Vespa, and foot. She lives in Colorado with her family and dogs, where she cooks up dazzling dishes and spectacular stories. Look for the To Tuscany with Love companion recipes—Bella’s Tastes from Tuscany—on her website. You can find reader discussion questions and book club enhancement ideas on her website, as well as contact information to arrange your own book club chat with Gail.

  Watch for the 2nd novel in Gail's Tuscany series, which returns to Italy with a new cast of characters and more hill towns to discover. Updates on the release date will be posted on her website.

  To learn more about Gail or schedule a book club chat, visit www.GailMencini.com.

  During our college semester in Tuscany, I fell in love with the landscape, the people, the history, the food, and the wine. And if you’ve read about our summer in Tuscany, you know how I felt about my classmates. Returning to New York after that semester abroad, I wanted my kitchen to resonate with the smells and tastes of the food that I loved in Italy.

  Bella’s Tastes from Tuscany is a collection of recipes I created through the years that capture some of the foods, tastes, and memories from that remarkable summer. They feature American—rather than Italian—ingredients and, by necessity in the early years, were easy on my restricted budget.

  You can find more of my recipes by visiting www.GailMencini.com.

  Salute!

  Bella

  Roasted Tomato Crostini

  16 Crostini

  This is an alternative to tomato bruschetta for those days when

  you don’t have time to dice tomatoes. I use a French baguette

  because it is the perfect size for the tomato crostini, plus it

  reminds me of that wild, steamy trip we all took to Paris.

  8 Roma tomatoes

  5 tablespoons olive oil, divided