He gave her a sheepish look. “Not exactly. But she knew how badly I wanted it, so she was willing to compromise, as long as I promised not to spend every last farthing we had. I also had to promise that she’d be able to fly home anytime she wanted, so that’s where we stand. I stay here, and she comes and goes as she pleases.”
“Does she always take the children?” Lillian asked. “Or do they stay with you sometimes?”
“So far, she’s been taking them,” he replied, “but she never stays away for too long.”
“That’s good. You must miss them.”
“I do.”
Lillian wanted to ask more about that, but they reached the bottom of the hill and arrived at the little cluster of stone buildings where the shed was located. All the guest suites were occupied. The windows were lit up, but Lillian’s apartment was dark.
“Looks like Freddie isn’t home yet,” she said.
Anton stopped as well. “Where was he today?”
“I’m not sure. He’s been going to Florence to do research, and sometimes he stops at coffee shops to write on his way home, but this seems late.”
“Are you worried?”
“I’m not sure. He could just be on a roll.”
“Do you want me to come in? Maybe he left a note.”
She thought about it for a moment and decided that it might not be a good idea to invite Anton inside. If Freddie came home, how would that look?
“I’m sure he’s fine,” she said. “And I should get some sleep. But thank you for walking me back.”
Anton hesitated a moment, shining the flashlight on the ground, studying her expression in the moonlight. “I enjoyed our conversations.”
“So did I.” There was a note of intimacy in her voice, and something about that made her feel guilty, as if she were on the verge of stepping over a line she shouldn’t cross. On the other side of that line was a deeper friendship with a man she found fascinating and very attractive. It was dangerous territory, to be sure.
“Call me at the villa if you need anything,” Anton said. “If you’re worried about your husband.”
“I will. But I’m sure everything’s fine. He’s just late. Like me.”
“All right.” Anton paused a moment, then turned to go.
Lillian stood on the gravel driveway, watching him walk up the forested lane with the flashlight illuminating his way through the darkness. There was a sudden chill in the night. Hugging her arms about herself, she continued to watch him until he disappeared over the crest of the hill, and then she dug into her purse for her key.
A moment later, she was switching on all the lights in the empty apartment, wondering where Freddie was. What if he’d gotten into another car accident? The roads in Tuscany were full of unfamiliar twists and turns, up and down the sides of mountains. It was worse after dark, when other cars came speeding around bends with their headlights blinding your eyes.
Not sure what she would do if Freddie didn’t come home soon, Lillian washed her face and put on her nightgown. She slipped into bed and tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. She was worried about Freddie.
She didn’t want to fall asleep until he came home, so she rose from the bed and sat down at the kitchen table with a bottle of nail polish. As she dipped the brush into the bottle and painted a light-pink color on her nails, her thoughts wandered to a memory of the dinner table under the grape arbor. She recalled the sound of everyone’s laughter when Domenico told a story about his dog, Nacho, who had once lapped up a puddle of red wine that had leaked out of a fermentation barrel in the winery. Nacho—just a puppy at the time—had staggered outside and fallen into a bunch of empty flowerpots. Poor Nacho had to be carried up to the villa to sleep it off.
Lillian had just finished a second coat of nail polish when car headlights shone through the window and swept across the wall. She stood and hurried to the door, letting out a breath of relief when Freddie got out of the car that Anton had loaned to them. He ran up the steps with his backpack slung over his shoulder and walked in.
“You’re still up,” he said, brushing past her. “I had an amazing day. I wrote seven pages after exploring a neighborhood where my characters get into some trouble.”
It was obvious that he was pleased and excited. Lillian was happy for him, of course, but for the first time in their relationship, she was excited by something of her own: a fulfilling day, both professionally and personally. She had received high praise from her employer, learned all sorts of new things about wine, met the most amazing group of people, and tasted food that was surely sent from heaven.