The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
Louisa paused beside her. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Daniella happily said, “Of course, I don’t mind! That would be great.”
But as Louisa sat, Daniella took note again that something seemed off about her. Everything Louisa did had a sense of hesitancy about it. Everything she said seemed incomplete.
“So you have a month before you go home?”
“All of February.” Daniella took a deep breath. “And I intend to enjoy every minute of it. Even if I do have to find work.”
“Work?”
“A waitressing job. Or maybe part-time shop clerk. That kind of thing. New York is a very expensive place to live. I don’t want to blow every cent I made teaching on a vacation. I’ll need that money when I get back home. So I intend to earn my spending money while I see the sights.”
As the bus eased out of the station, Louisa said, “That’s smart.”
Dani sat up, not wanting to miss anything. Louisa laughed. “Your foster mother should have come with you.”
Pain squeezed Daniella’s heart. Just when she thought she was adjusted to her loss, the reality would swoop in and remind her that the sweet, loving woman who’d saved her was gone. She swallowed hard. “She passed a few months ago. She left me the money for my plane ticket to Italy in her will.”
Louisa’s beautiful face blossomed with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. That was careless of me.”
Daniella shook her head. “No. You had no way of knowing.”
Louisa studied her. “So you have no set plans? No schedule of things you want to see and do? No places you’ve already scouted out to potentially get a job?”
“No schedule. I want to wing it. I’ve done a bit of research about Rosa’s family and I know the language. So I think I’ll be okay.”
Louisa laughed. “Better off than I’ll be since I don’t know the language.” She held up her listening device. “At least not for another five weeks.”
The bus made several slow turns, getting them out of the station and onto the street.
Taking a final look at Florence, Dani breathed, “Isn’t this whole country gorgeous?” Even in winter with barren trees, the scene was idyllic. Blue skies. Rolling hills.
“Yes.” Louisa bit her lip, then hesitantly said, “I’m here because I inherited something, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She paused, studied Daniella’s face as if assessing if she could trust her before continuing, “A villa.”
“Oh, my God! A villa!”
Louisa glanced away. “I know. It’s pretty amazing. The place is called Palazzo di Comparino.”
“Do you have pictures?”
“Yes.” She pulled out a picture of a tall, graceful house. Rich green vines grew in rows in the background beneath a blue sky.
It was everything Dani could do not to gape in awe. “It’s beautiful.”
Louisa laughed. “Yes. But so far I haven’t seen anything in Italy that isn’t gorgeous.” She winced. “I hate to admit it, but I’m excited.”
“I’d be beyond excited.”
“I’m told Monte Calanetti developed around Palazzo Chianti because of the vineyard which is part of the villa I inherited. Back then, they would have needed lots of help picking grapes, making the wine. Those people are the ancestors of the people who live there now.”
“That is so cool.”
“Yes, except I know nothing about running a vineyard.”
Daniella batted a hand. “With the internet these days, you can learn anything.”
Louisa sucked in a breath. “I hope so.”
Daniella laid her hand on Louisa’s in a show of encouragement. “You’ll be fine.”
Louise’s face formed another of her enigmatic smiles and Daniella’s sixth sense perked up again. Louisa appeared to want to be happy, but behind her smile was something...
Louisa brought her gaze back to Daniella’s. “You know, I could probably use a little help when I get there.”
“Help?”
“I don’t think I’m just going to move into a villa without somebody coming to question me.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m going to be at a loss if they’re speaking Italian.”
Dani winced. “Especially if it’s the sheriff.”
Louisa laughed. “I don’t even know if they have sheriffs here. My letter is in English, but the officials are probably Italian. It could turn out to be a mess. So, I’d be happy to put you up for a while.” She caught Dani’s gaze. “Even all four weeks you’re looking for your foster mom’s relatives—if you’d be my translator.”
Overwhelmed by the generous offer, Daniella said, “That would be fantastic. But I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“You’ll certainly earn your keep if somebody comes to check my story.”
Daniella grinned. “I’d be staying in a villa.”
Louisa laughed. “I own a villa.”
“Okay, then. I’d be happy to be your translator while I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
Glad for the friendship forming between them, Daniella engaged Louisa in conversation as miles of hills and blue, blue sky rolled past them. Then suddenly a walled village appeared to the right. The bus turned in.
Aged, but well-maintained stucco, brick and stone buildings greeted them. Cobblestone streets were filled with happy, chatting people. Through the large front windows of the establishments, Dani could see the coffee drinkers or diners inside while outdoor dining areas sat empty because of the chilly temperatures.
The center circle of the town came into view. The bus made the wide turn but Dani suddenly saw a sign that read Palazzo di Comparino. The old, worn wood planks had a thick black line painted through them as if to cancel out the offer of vineyard tours.
Daniella grabbed Louisa’s arm and pointed out the window. “Look!”
“Oh, my gosh!” Louisa jumped out of her seat and yelled, “Stop!”
Daniella rose, too. She said, “Fermi qui, per favore.”
It took a minute for the bus driver to hear and finally halt the bus. After gathering their belongings, Louisa and Daniella faced the lane that led to Louisa’s villa. Because Dani had only a backpack and Louisa had two suitcases and a carry-on bag, Daniella said, “Let me take your suitcase.”
Louisa smiled. “Having you around is turning out to be very handy.”
Daniella laughed as they walked down the long lane that took them to the villa. The pale brown brick house soon became visible. The closer they got, the bigger it seemed to be.
Louisa reverently whispered, “Holy cow.”
Daniella licked her suddenly dry lips. “It’s huge.”
The main house sprawled before them. Several stories tall, and long and deep, like a house with suites not bedrooms, Louisa’s new home could only be described as a mansion.
They silently walked up the stone path to the front door. When they reached it, Louisa pulled out a key and manipulated the lock. As the door opened, the stale, musty scent of a building that had been locked up for years assaulted them. Dust and cobwebs covered the crystal