A Place in the Sun

  I stayed out on the water, rocking in the boat until the sun had started to set. It didn’t seem right to have spent all day on the water with nothing to show for it, but the water was getting choppy, and I knew it was time.

  The pastel buildings came into view first. Lights twinkling behind shuttered windows. Clothing hung on lines, flapping in the evening wind. Sound carried out on the water, the usual clinking of glasses and speckled conversation. Tourists were everywhere, filling the tables outside and spilling out onto the breaker to take photos of the sunset. It was right at the beginning of the golden hour and the entire village was basked in gentle, warm light.

  I maneuvered my boat around a buoy and looked onto the granite boulders. They formed the first breaker for Vernazza, and they also offered the best view of the setting sun. On them, it felt like you were sitting on the edge of the world with nothing but sea and sky stretched in front of you. There were tourists lingering around them, even a few brave enough to venture out and take a seat.

  I’d seen Georgie sitting on them before—the memory was so sharp that as I closed my eyes, I could see it as clear as day.

  When I opened my eyes, the image remained: Georgie sitting on the boulder in the very center of the breakers, just a foot or two out of reach of the waves. She was kicking her feet back and forth like a child. I blinked a few times, trying to work out if it was really her or just a figment of my imagination.

  My boat brought me closer and she stood, waving to me from her perch.

  She was a siren calling out to me. Her brown hair was loose, long, and whipping in the wind from the north. Her blue sundress fluttered around her legs and her lips split into a wide grin when I rounded the side of the breaker and slowed my boat to a crawl. There was a fellow boatman unloading his catches of the day; he helped me anchor and then I jumped back onto land, looking around for Georgie. She was still standing on the boulder, waiting for me to join her. It was a precarious path, with boulders jutting in every direction, but I’d journeyed there enough times to know a quick way to get to her.

  I stepped onto the boulder and took her in. The sun was setting behind her and the sea stretched to infinity. Her brown eyes sought mine and I realized we were both standing there silent.

  I bent to kiss her cheek, enveloped by her warmth…her scent…her.

  God, I missed her. It’d been days since I touched her and I missed her so much.

  “I thought you’d left Vernazza for good,” I admitted.

  “And leave Mopsie in your care? Never.”

  “He likes me.”

  “Not without me around—he’s fiercely loyal.”

  I grinned.

  “Why’d you think I left? For good?”

  “Your room was cleaner than I’ve ever seen it before. I thought it was a sign.”

  “Ah. I can see how that might have been alarming.”

  “It was quite a sight. I didn’t realize you had a proper floor in there.”

  She laughed and glanced away; I could feel her nerves radiating off her.

  “I was watching you out there,” she continued, pointing out to the patch of sea I’d come from.

  “Sorry I took so long.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t mind waiting.”

  We weren’t talking about my time on the water.

  I wanted to cover her mouth with mine so that the conversation ended there. I didn’t need to hear any of the thoughts swirling in that stubborn head of hers. I didn’t want her to continue to push me away or talk of her plans to leave Vernazza.

  She reached for my hands and squeezed. “I actually have something really important to tell you.”

  “So do I.” The words came out in a rush, one after another until I couldn’t stop them. I had to speak first. “Stay here with me. Stay in Vernazza and move into the villa. I don’t want to lose you and I should have told you earlier, but I only realized a few days ago. I love you, Georgie. There, see? I love you and I need you to stay. Please say you’ll stay.”

  She let out a high-pitched, hysterical laugh.

  “Does that villa of yours have a spare room?”

  A spare room?

  I wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her into me. “I think we’re beyond having separate rooms. You’ll be in mine. With me. I’ll get used to the clothes on the floor.”

  “It’s not for me.”

  “For who then?”

  She turned to face the sea and it was only then that she let her face start to crumble. She furrowed her brows and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Whatever it was she was about to say, she was nervous, maybe even scared of my reaction.

  “Tell me. What’s wrong? Are you still thinking of leaving?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  The force of those two words nearly sent me flying backward.

  “Say again?”

  She pinched her eyes closed and turned back to me, letting her forehead drop to my chest.

  “I’m…with child. I’ve got your bun in my oven.”

  I laughed, though it sounded a bit hysterical. “Georgie. Look at me.”

  I tilted her chin up, but she kept her eyes closed.

  “Are you serious? Open your eyes.”

  “I can’t.”

  I laughed and tugged on her eyebrows. Finally, she opened her eyes, but she stared at a spot just to the side of my forehead, refusing to meet my eye.

  “It’s yours—obviously,” she continued. “I went into La Spezia to see a doctor today. That’s why I’ve been gone all day. They confirmed the pregnancy and did an ultrasound. They printed out a little polaroid I can show you, though really it doesn’t look like anything quite yet, just a black and white piece of abstract art. Still, it made me cry all over the nurse’s scrubs. I think they felt a bit bad for me—being a blubbering mess and all. They said in two weeks I can go back and listen to her heartbeat, Gianluca! It’ll be this whirring little sound. And I can show you the picture if you’d like. It’s quite boring, but I love it and I’ll show you if you want to see it.”

  “Georgie—”

  “Don’t think you have to stay with me for the baby. I’m quite prepared to be a single mum if I have to—I think I’ve got the temperament for it and I do think I’ll secretly relish seeing people look on at me with pity. Besides, I’m quite good with kids. We enjoy a lot of the same things.”

  “Georgie, stop talking.”

  “Oh god, you’re so sad that you’re crying.”

  I supposed I was—crying, that is.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I said, cradling the back of her neck so she couldn’t pull away from me.

  “You can’t call a pregnant woman ridiculous. It’s in the rules.”

  I kissed her to shut her up and when I pulled back, her lips were parted and her eyes were wide as saucers.

  “I suppose I’ve got to marry you now.”

  If possible, her eyes went even wider.

  “What do you mean—marry?!”

  I grinned. “It’s really the only option we have.”

  “Don’t toy with me, Gianluca.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She started vehemently shaking her head then, trying to push away from me. “No, I won’t allow you to propose just because you feel obligated to—by this.” She pointed at her stomach.

  “Didn’t you hear the bit where I said I loved you?”

  “You said that?”

  “Earlier.”

  “Oh.” She touched her lips, thinking it over. “I suppose I was caught up in my own world, trying to work out how to tell you about the baby.”

  “Well it’s too bad you missed it. I poured my heart out to you and it was bloody romantic.”

  “No, no, go on, say it again and I swear I’ll listen properly this time.”

  “It really wasn’t much, just a little speech about me really loving you and all that.”

  “Oh. Wow. That does sound good.”

  “The real proposal will b
e better.”

  “So you’re going to propose with a ring and all?”

  “I’m not a brute, Georgie.”

  “Sometimes you really act like one.”

  “You shouldn’t call the father of your child a brute.”

  Her lip quivered then.

  “We’re having a baby, Gianluca.”

  My heart swelled and I leaned in to kiss her again, and this time it was soft and slow. I could hardly break it off.

  “You could start calling me Luca now, don’t you think?”

  She grinned. “I suppose I could.” Then she proceeded to try it out. “Luca.”

  I loved the sound of it coming from her.

  “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

  “We’ll see.”

  …

  It was nearly amusing to look back on the last few days with a fresh set of eyes. Ever since the blowup on the mountain, Georgie had been acting strangely. What I had interpreted as her pulling away from me was actually her panic at the thought of having conceived a child with a man she couldn’t rely on. I kicked myself for taking so long to give her the assurance she needed, but I knew it didn’t matter anymore.

  Now she knew how much I loved her and I planned on ensuring she never forgot.

  I moved her things to the villa that night.

  I couldn’t wait.

  She didn’t have much more than when I’d moved her in, just a suitcase and a few bags. She had more sandals than any one human needed, but I didn’t care. Georgie was moving into my villa and I wore a shit-eating grin as I carried her things up the steep hill. She was lying on the couch, listening to the record I’d put on as I carried in the last few things. Mopsie was curled up at her feet, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to join them.

  “Don’t move.”

  I kicked the door closed, dropped her bags by the door, and stole Mopsie’s spot, pulling Georgie’s legs up onto my lap so she didn’t have to shift at all. I sank into the cushions and glanced over to find Georgie spilling life into every nook and cranny of that empty villa. She smiled at me and wiggled her toes.

  “You’re the best moving man I’ve ever hired.” I smiled. “My own personal Sherpa, after all.”

  “Yeah, a shoe Sherpa. That’s quite the collection you’ve got going.”

  “Just doing my part to stimulate the local economy.”

  I arched a brow. “Oh, so you enjoy stimulating things?”

  “Oh, ha ha, very charming. How could I possibly love you?”

  “You do then?”

  “So much it feels like torture at times.”

  She pointed to the bare wall behind her.

  “You’ve taken away Allie’s things.”

  I nodded. “A few days ago.”

  She turned back to me with a small frown. “You don’t have to, Luca. Not on my account.”

  “I didn’t do it for you. It was long overdue.”

  I needed her to know I wasn’t using her to get over Allie. Georgie wasn’t my second love. She was my only love.

  “You should know I never intended to fall in love again. I never imagined I’d have a reason to move on, and when you came along, I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know how to handle you. You were…a lot to take in at once. I tried to keep my wall up, but you blew right past it.”

  She grinned. “Tramontana.” Her Italian accent had improved dramatically.

  “Exactly.” I leaned forward and cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb across her skin. “You’re the woman I love now, Georgie. The only woman.”

  She mashed her lips together and nodded, trying to keep from crying, I thought. I didn’t pester her about it. She’d had a long day and I didn’t want her getting too stressed out. Apparently the doctors said she needed lots of rest and relaxation, though Georgie also went on about needing a daily allotment of prenatal chocolate and circulation-improving foot rubs. I didn’t mind giving her everything she wanted. I’d spoil her and in a few months, I’d spoil our child just as much.

  It’d been too long since I’d been this happy, this full of hope for the future, and I knew it was no coincidence. Something had brought Georgie to me, and whether it was fate, or God, or Allie working the cosmic magic she’d promised, I knew I’d spend the rest of my life loving Georgie Archibald here, in our place in the sun.

  IT MIGHT SEEM odd, but I would have given anything for one conversation with Allie. There was so much I would have liked to tell her, and more that I wanted to ask. She was Luca’s first love, an irreplaceable part of his life. She’d taught him what it meant to be a man, to grow and love in spite of life’s hardships. Given the chance, I would have thanked her, pulled her close, and promised to do my best to love him. When I’d first arrived in Vernazza and had struggled and fought with Luca, I wasn’t upset by the idea of sharing his heart with her; I was concerned that he was still wearing his tragedy like a stiff mask he refused to take off. A part of me feared he would never emerge from the veil of mourning.

  Allie, who had lost her own life at such a young age, would have hated to know that she’d cut Luca’s short as well.

  In the year since I’d moved into the villa, I thought of her often. I felt her presence during the birth of Julianna. I’d held my newborn baby in my arms and I’d cried, first with happiness, and then for Allie, for all she had lost. Handing off Julianna to Luca and seeing him step into fatherhood was a gift I never once took for granted. I wanted Allie to see it, to know that more than any role he’d tried on before—financier, husband, widower, recluse—he was meant to be a father. His love for Julianna eclipsed all else.

  There was even a moment, a few months after Julianna was born, when my imagination fooled me into thinking I might get the chance to have that conversation. Luca, Julianna, and I were eating breakfast at The Blue Marlin. Our addiction to their croissants was as strong as ever—not to mention, Julianna seemed to enjoy waking up at the crack of dawn, so Luca and I were mostly functioning off espresso and the sheer stubborn willpower only available to new parents.

  We took our favorite seats outside on the wooden porch. Antonio brought us a few pastries that had just come out of the oven and I tore one in half, handing a bit to Luca while he bounced Julianna on his knee.

  She looked so much like him. She’d inherited his long, dark lashes and thick hair, his olive skin and pouty lips. Her eyes were like mine though, light brown and round.

  She started to giggle, watching her dad while he talked to her.

  God, she was putty for him. He could do no wrong in her eyes, and though I couldn’t prove it, I swore she purposely saved her spit-up for me.

  “I was thinking we could go on a hike later?” he asked. “Nothing too far.”

  I hummed in agreement, eager to enjoy the good weather.

  “I just have a bit to do at Il Mare. I need to see that Elena is managing everything all right.”

  He nodded and turned back to Julianna, but she was focused on me now. She’d locked onto her mamma and I bent forward, rubbing the bottom of her feet until she lapsed into a fit of giggles. There was no better sound.

  “Katerina asked about dinner tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “That’d be nice. We’ll have to see them at Massimo’s. I doubt Katerina would want to trek all the way up to the villa.”

  She was just beginning her seventh month of pregnancy.

  “True—although, I did it.”

  “Sure, though I seem to remember quite a bit of moaning about it.”

  I grinned. “Only there at the end, when I was more beach ball than woman.”

  Antonio came round with our espressos and we settled back into our seats to enjoy them. The street was busier than usual. It was Tuesday, so the open-air market would start soon and vendors were bustling around getting everything ready. Katerina wasn’t there—she was too tired to manage the shop and the market so close to the end of her pregnancy.

  I reached into our diaper bag and handed Luca a toy for Julianna. She jingled the
colorful, oversized keys in her little hand and for a few minutes, I sipped my drink and watched her playing, content to enjoy the slow morning.

  A train pulled into the station and we heard the first lot of tourists chattering and winding their way down the main street. In a few minutes, Vernazza would be flooded like it was every day during the summer months. I loved sitting back and people-watching, and that’s what I did, taking in all the different people coming to enjoy a little slice of heaven. I loved hearing their shocked sighs when they got their first proper view of the village and the sea.

  One particular family stuck out to me: a mom trying to corral her children away from the cakes and cookies on display at the market. I followed their journey down the main road until a flash of fabric caught my attention. It was on a woman walking alone, and my flipbook view of her was dependent on the motion of the swirling crowd. She was wearing a dress I recognized. It was bright yellow and had lemons printed all over it. It was light and cheerful and I had absolutely seen it before.

  I muttered to Luca about wanting to check out a new vendor, jumped out of my seat, and took off down the street after her, trying to dart around groups of tourists stopped to shop in the market. She’d gotten so far ahead that I thought I’d never catch her. I picked up the pace, all but sprinting.

  “Excuse me! ’Scuse me!”

  I pushed past a man, offered up a weak apology, and then continued down the road. I shouted her name above the crowd, but she never turned. She rounded the corner into the square and I lost her. There were too many people on the streets. Too many people had come in on the train all at once. I spun in a circle, looking around the square, and then I spotted her standing near the granite boulders, looking out to the sea.

  I knew in my gut that it was Allie.

  It was her long pale blonde hair. Her delicate profile. Her lemon dress. It whipped in the wind around her legs as she propped her hands on her hips. For a year and a half I’d longed for this moment, a chance to walk up and tap her shoulder, to have her turn and offer me a gentle smile.

  I wanted to step closer, and yet, I didn’t.