forced to let go of the life he knew before the accident, when he could walk and do other things like dress and feed himself. But now I realize that it also included my mother’s affair and how it broke his heart and how he had to accept responsibility for his part in it, for what was wrong in their marriage in the first place. At least I hope he accepted some responsibility. Either way, he had to focus on how he was going to live with the cards he had been dealt and make the most of the years he had left.” Fiona lowered her gaze. “The doctors didn’t expect him to live very long.”
“He must be an amazing man,” Sloane said. “He wrote books?”
Fiona’s eyes lifted. “Yes. He finished his first novel here in Tuscany, but he always believed he only got published because of what happened to him. They used his situation to publicize the book, and that’s why it sold so well. He wrote two more—he was able to dictate—but they didn’t sell nearly as well as the first one. I think it was a blow to his confidence, because all he ever wanted to be was a novelist.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Sloane said.
“At least he found purpose with a different kind of writing—articles for a charitable foundation he and Mom started for spinal cord research. That was how he looked forward, not back. He was able to pivot and make a change. See a different future for himself and get on board with it. It’s turned out to be the thing he’s most proud of.”
Sloane sat up straighter against the pillows on the bed. “You’re lucky that you have a strong relationship with him. You won’t have any regrets about that. You’ll always know that you were a good daughter. I feel like I ruined that for myself, and my dad must have hated me.”
“No. He loved you. I know he did.” Fiona stared at Sloane for a few seconds. “That’s why I’m here. Would you mind taking a walk with me?”
“Now?”
“Yes, and let’s bring the kids.” Fiona stood up, moved to the sofa, and waved her hands in front of their faces. “Calling all children. Lower your tablets. It’s time to go outside.”
“What for?” Evan asked, tugging the white buds out of his ears.
“Have you been inside the wine cellars yet?”
Uncertain, he turned to Sloane. “Have we, Mom?”
“No, you haven’t been there,” she replied.
“Then let’s go,” Fiona said. “Trust me, you’ll love it. It’s like something out of Harry Potter.”
“I love Harry Potter,” Chloe replied. “I saw all the movies. Hermione’s my favorite.”
“I like Hermione too,” Fiona replied.
Evan and Chloe set down their tablets and followed Fiona and Sloane out of the room. Together, they left the villa and walked down Cypress Row to the little medieval hamlet and chapel at the bottom of the hill. Fiona led Sloane and the children into the stone building where the wine cellars were located, down the circular steps to the dimly lit labyrinth below. Massive oak barrels lay on their sides in the largest cellars, and beyond that, they moved through narrow passages with dusty bottles of wine stacked on either side of the corridors.
“Your uncle Connor and I used to play hide-and-seek down here when we were your age,” Sloane told them.
“Can we do that?” Evan asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Ask your aunt Fiona. It’s her winery.”
Fiona turned and walked backward, smiling, spreading her arms wide. “Of course you can! Why do you think I brought you here? You can come here anytime you like, as long as you don’t pull a plug out of one of those big barrels we just passed, or you’ll flood the place.”
“We won’t,” Chloe replied.
Fiona led them to an ancient oak door at the end of the last corridor and dug into her purse for a key. “This is a very old hiding place,” she said, inserting the key into a wrought iron lock and pushing the door open on creaking hinges.
Rapt with fascination, Sloane, Evan, and Chloe followed her inside.
“What’s all this?” Sloane asked, moving along groups of wine bottles stacked against the walls on wooden slabs.
“It’s a very special room,” Fiona explained. “These are collections from the harvest year of a child’s birth. It was a tradition started by the Maurizio family, who owned this winery before your father did. Some of the bottles are very old, as you can see. Look at the dates on the plaques.