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Kathleen sat in the park for a long time that Thursday afternoon. It was a rare spring day in New York--warm, sunny, big fluffy clouds in the blue, blue sky. The grass was the lush new green of spring. Tiny leaves covered the trees. All the dirt and grime of the past winter was washed clean and the stink that heralded summer was still far away. The park was full of people, enjoying the day. Kathleen sat still, blind to the beauty around her. Her only movement was to look at her watch. She didn't take up much of the bench. Baggy sweats hid her small frame. Her short red hair was scrunched under a Mets baseball cap. She could easily have been mistaken for a twelve year-old boy.

He needed a couple of hours, he said. A couple of hours to clear his things out of her loft. She offered to help, trying to be adult about the whole thing. Better if she were gone, he said. Didn't want to inconvenience her. It was amazing how polite they were to each other. She gave him four hours. Four hours to get out of her life. Four hours to be over. Gone, he would be gone by now. She rose from the bench and walked home. Couples break up all the time. Nobody committed anymore. Relationships were transient, temporary. She would move on.

Gina was waiting for her when Kathleen opened the door. Kathleen was sure Daniel asked her to stay until Kathleen got home. Gina was best friend to both of them. Tall, lithe, beautiful Gina Fiorella looked like a bosomy version of Audrey Hepburn. She was outspoken, brash, Italian to her core.

"All done?" Kathleen asked.

"Yeah, about an hour ago. I was getting worried." Gina stood and put her arm around her. "Was going to start looking for you."

Kathleen looked around her home. It took up the entire third floor of an old factory in Tribeca. Fifteen foot ceilings, large windows, plank floors made out of oak. This was the home she shared with Daniel, then with Leo.

"He really did it." Daniel's art supplies, half finished canvases, were gone. The clutter from Leo's baby things was gone as well. Kathleen sat on the overstuffed sofa. And covered her eyes with her hands. "Couldn't get away from me fast enough."

"That's not true." Gina sat next to her on the sofa. "He thought a clean break was better."

"Don't defend him."

"Defend him? I spent the last three hours arguing with him. Begging him not to leave." Gina's hands flew in the air. "He loves you, you love him and Leo. Seems simple enough to me." Gina shrugged her shoulders. "But nothing's ever simple with Daniel."

"No kidding." Kathleen closed her eyes. "God, I hate him."

"I know, honey, I know." Gina put her arms around Kathleen. "I grabbed these while Daniel wasn't looking." She held out a couple of photographs. Kathleen studied them.

"Thanks, Gina." Kathleen traced Leo's features with her fingers. "He's growing so fast. He won't look the same in a couple of months," Kathleen hiccupped. "I'll never see him grow up." She put the pictures down before her tears ruined them. "Was any of this real for him, Gina? Did he care at all? Was I just a substitute? A convenience? C'mon you've known him your whole life. What's the joke here?"

"No joke. Kathleen, he loves you. It's just too much, the baby, you. Daniel can't handle it, so he ran." Gina shook her head. "He thinks he's your favorite charity case. He says he's doing you a favor."

"Hope he doesn't do me any more favors." Kathleen clutched a pillow. "Another one might kill me."

Chapter One

Leo knelt on the edge of the bed watching his father toss and turn. "Papa, wake up!"

Daniel woke with a jolt.

"What?" Daniel fumbled for his glasses. "What did I say?"

Leo handed his father his glasses. "You nervous again."

"I'm okay, Leo. Just dreaming." Daniel put on his glasses. "C'mon we've got lots to do. Zio Marco and I have to work in the vines. Then we have to finish getting the rental house ready."

After breakfast, Daniel and Leo headed to Lucia's. They found her in the kitchen with her son, Antonio, finishing breakfast.

"Ciao, Lucia." Daniel kissed her cheek. The boys ran off to Antonio's room.

"Ciao Bello." Lucia stood, all five feet two inches of her. "You want coffee?"

"Do I have time?"

"Si, Marco's still in the shower. He's worrying about the vines again, talking in his sleep. He kept me awake, tossing and turning." Lucia brought him a cup of coffee and some toast. "You look tired. Dreaming about Kathleen again?"

Daniel's face grew red. "How did...?"

"Leo told me, you dream about her often," Lucia said as she touched Daniel's cheek. "That boy misses nothing."

Daniel busied himself with his toast. "It doesn't matter, she lives in the States, married, probably has two or three kids by now. I haven't seen her for years."

Marco burst into the kitchen, kissed his wife thoroughly and clapped Daniel on the shoulder. "Ciao, is it not a beautiful morning?"

Lucia poured him some coffee. He took a couple of sips and put the cup down.

"My friend, today we look for fungus. It was too rainy, too cloudy the last few weeks all that dampness." He went to stand by the window. He was tall for an Italian, almost as tall as Daniel. He grinned and wrapped an arm around his wife. "Ah, light winds today bene, bene. We will get a breeze."

Daniel stood. "Let's get going then, nothing better than crawling around in the dirt examining vines."

Marco nodded his head vigorously. "It is wonderful to be outside smelling the earth, watching nature renew herself. We must check the rental house too."

The summer guests were coming the day after tomorrow. Daniel and Marco finished bringing in the boxes of art supplies that the tenants had shipped. Marco went through the house one last time to make sure everything was ready. Antonio followed him.

Daniel sat on the dining room floor studying the mural. It took up one entire wall of the large dining room. His original intention had been to capture the essence, the earthiness of the vineyard. He wanted it to be evocative, pulsing with life and beauty. A visual feast to enjoy while feasting on the bounty of the area. Instead it was rubbish, technically competent but rubbish nonetheless. "This thing needs a gallon or two of whitewash."

"Why Papa?" Leo sat cross-legged on the floor mimicking his father's position. Except that he had an opened sketchpad in his lap, and was busily drawing.

"Why? It's terrible." Daniel stood up and went to the mural. "What's wrong with this?"

The little boy shrugged his shoulders. "It's a nice picture. I like it."

Daniel shook his head. "God, it looks forced, like a paint by number piece." He stood back. He pointed to the house. "It's supposed to be warm, welcoming. It looks like a real estate shot." He put his head on the wall and swore softly. "There's nothing of me in this. Nothing; it's gone. Whatever I had it's gone."

Leo dropped his pad and wrapped his arms around his father's leg. "You're a good artist, Papa. You teach me."

Daniel ruffled the boy's hair. "Let's tell the truth. At my very best, I had what they call potential. Like you have, a talent, a gift to be developed." He sighed and frowned. "Now I'm just a guy who paints pretty pictures." He freed himself from his son's grip and started toward the door.

Leo picked up his sketchbook. "I draw...look, I draw a picture of you. Look."

Daniel stopped and turned to see Leo holding out his sketchbook, a pleading look on his face. Daniel took it from his son's hand. Leo drew him with a frown, a line between his brows, his eyes dark and hollow. All from a pencil sketch by a five-year-old.

"Is this how you see me?" he asked.

"Si, you sad."

Daniel bent down and picked up his son and hugged him tightly to his chest. "You make me happy, Leo. Just remind me to smile more. Okay?"

Leo nestled into his arms. "Si, I will. Te amo, Papa"

Marco called out. "Leo, Daniel come let's swim before the Americans overrun the place."

They were sitting at the edge of the pool watching the boys splash around. Daniel laid back and turned his face to the sun.

"Can you keep both boys tomorrow night?" Marco asked.

"Sure, you and Lucia are going out?"

"We will be here," he winked. "But it is better if Antonio stays at your place."

"God, you're not taking her out to the vineyard are you?" Daniel remembered one spring night where he'd seen them sneaking off into the vineyard carrying a blanket. It was the first time both boys slept at his place.

"Si, it is time." Marco grinned at his friend. "Eh, we want a good harvest this year."

"Well, if pagan rituals work then, have fun."

"We do, we do," Marco said. "So Daniel, what about you?"

"What about me?" Daniel regarded his friend.

"You need to find a woman. You can't live like a monk forever."

"I have so much to offer. Don't I?" Daniel squinted at the sky. "I work in a vineyard at slave wages. I also have the remarkable ability to wreck any relationship I've ever had. The only thing that I have going for me is Leo."

"Okay, my friend, even if you don't want a woman in your life, you should have one in your bed sometimes, eh?"

Daniel laughed. "Sure, but Leo usually crawls in with me."

"If you want to entertain, then we can keep Leo," Marco said. "You cannot live like a monk forever. Has there been anyone since Lilia?"

"God, Marco. Did you have to bring that up?" Daniel shook his head as he remembered. Lilia was Lucia's younger sister. She had curly brown hair, and a voluptuous figure. One evening they got drunk and ended up in bed.

"Sorry," Marco said, as he saw Daniel's face turn red.

Daniel considered it a huge mistake and did his best to forget it. He could live like a monk forever. Women were trouble, nothing but heartache.

Chapter Two

"This is it," Patrick said. They pulled into a gravel driveway off a narrow road. The driveway curved to the right and stopped in front of a large two-story stone house. They got out of the rented Mercedes and looked around.

"This is amazing," Kathleen said as she undid Maggie's car seat. The stone of the house was pink. Rose bushes, day lilies and tall gladiolas surrounded it. The door was wooden with windows on either side. The air was perfumed with the scent of roses and freesia. A trellis stood on the left side of the house covered with pink clematis.

"Somebody was supposed to meet us here," Ralph said as he peered in a window. They heard the sound of a vehicle. "Must be him now."

An old Ford truck rumbled up the driveway. A tall good-looking man with a head of dark curls hopped out of the truck, waved, and then went round to open the door for a middle-aged woman.

"Buon Guorno!" he cried as he shook everyone's hand. "I am Marco Grasso, and this is Maria Parisi. Maria will be keeping the house clean for you." Introductions were made all around. Kathleen blushed when Marco kissed her hand. Maggie hid behind her mother until Marco crouched down to her level. "Ah, so you are the little girl who likes to swim. I know two boys who would like to swim with you." He smiled at her. "They like to play with trucks and draw pictures too."

Maggie peeked out and smiled. "They here?"

"No, not today," Marco laughed. "But I will talk to your mama about bringing them to see you." He rose to his feet. "Several boxes were delivered. We put them in the lounge."

"Yes, our art supplies," Ralph said. "Thank you for picking them up."

"You are very welcome. Come, let me show you the house and help with the luggage."

Maggie tugged on his pant leg. "Can we go swimmin' now?"

"Later, Maggie, we need to find your suit." Kathleen smiled at Marco. "She loves the water."

The house was lovely, everything they could have hoped for. Kathleen's bedroom had a large sleigh bed covered with a simple white comforter. There was a soft blue flowered rug on the polished oak floor. A large bay window took up most of one wall. It had a view of the vineyard and the surrounding hills. A large armoire and a comfortable-looking chair with a small table and lamp completed the furnishings. There was a bathroom with a large tub and a separate shower.

Maggie's room had twin beds, and a child-sized table and chairs. There was a big rug on the floor and a shelf for toys. Her window faced the patio. Ralph and Patrick's room was at the other end of the hallway. It was the largest bedroom with a fireplace and a large four-poster bed. A basket full of wood stood next to the fireplace and logs were laid in the grate. Ralph was in ecstasy over the bathroom as it had a multiple-head shower. Another bedroom and a full bathroom completed the second floor.

Downstairs the large kitchen had windows facing the patio. Terra cotta tile covered the floor. There was a long wooden table with mismatched chairs. New appliances surrounded another worktable. A large pantry completed the kitchen. Patrick saw a thriving herb garden right outside the kitchen door.

"That's it. I'm never leaving," he said as Maria showed him the fresh produce, milk, cheese and pasta in the refrigerator.

"A welcome gift for you." She smiled. "There is an outdoor market in the village and a small grocery. The butcher is good, but make sure you tell him you know me. I will show you. There is wine and bread in the pantry and some fruit juice for the bambina."

Patrick grinned at her. "This is great, Maria. Grazie."

Maggie's eyes grew wide when she saw the pool. "Don't need no suit, Mommy." She started to pull off her clothes.

"Hey Kathleen, come see the dining room." Ralph's voice echoed from inside the house.

Kathleen grabbed a squirming Maggie and went into the house. "We'll find your suit in a minute, sweetie. Let's see what Ralph wants to show us." She went through the kitchen and found Ralph standing in the dining room. The room was spacious with windows on one wall that faced the pool. The wall opposite to the one from the kitchen was covered in a giant mural. It was a depiction of the vineyard, with the winery in the distance. Their house was in the foreground, surrounded by flowers and olive trees. It was a very nice mural, a pleasure to look at. There was something familiar about it that almost looked like something Daniel painted. She searched in the corner for a signature; there was none.

"Isn't it terrific?" Ralph asked.

"It's a nice mural, really well done," Kathleen agreed.

"What?" Ralph looked at her. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, the technique reminded me of Daniel's for a minute. But he couldn't have done this." Maggie was yanking on her mother's arm.

"Suit, Mommy."

"Okay, just a minute." Kathleen continued to stare at the mural. "It lacks something." She scooped up Maggie. "Let's go swimming."

* * *

Patrick and Kathleen came out of the little grocery laden with bags. They had been to the outdoor market and the butcher. Patrick was in his glory. He and the butcher had bonded over discussing the various types of pancetta, Parma hams, and cheese.

"Are we done?" Kathleen asked as they put the groceries in the car. "I'm dying of thirst. Let's get a drink over there." She pointed to a café across the piazza. They found a table and a tall, very handsome waiter came over and took their order.

"Wow, check him out." Patrick nudged Kathleen.

"He's a baby, can't be more than twenty-two," Kathleen said.

"You can look, Kathleen. Remember, you're on the prowl."

"I am not."

"I saw the new undies, sweetheart, and the thongs." Patrick patted her hand. "Definitely on the prowl."

"I don't know how to prowl. I should have paid more attention to Gina. She was something when we were single. God, I could tell you some stories." Kathleen shook her head. "I was never like that. I was always falling in love. It would be nice to fall in love and not have it turn out to be a disaster in a year or less."

"It wasn't like that with John," Patrick said.

Kathleen lowered her eyes and played with her glass. "No, of course not." She felt her cheeks grow hot. She took a long gulp of her drink. She took Patrick's hand and smiled. "I love you and Ralph."

"We love you too. And it's been almost four years. Hasn't been a disaster."

Kathleen laughed. "No, it hasn't." They were walking back to the car when Kathleen noticed the bookstore. "Look, let's see if they have anything worth buying."

"You mean anything by you," Patrick said.

"Yeah, that too." She pulled him into the bookstore. They emerged an hour later with another bag.

"Ralph's going to think we got lost," Patrick grumbled. "So you're doing story hour tomorrow?"

"Yes, I couldn't say no to Lilia, she's so nice. I had no idea that she would recognize me. Besides, it'll be fun. I'm going to read in English and she'll translate in Italian."

* * *

The life of a cartoonist was not always easy, thought Kathleen as she looked over Ralph's shoulder to read the balloon over Wazzoo's head.

"Too political, not funny," said Kathleen.

Ralph let out an exasperated sigh. "Wazzoo has a lot to say. Not everything has to be a joke."

"It's a comic strip, the funny pages." Kathleen handed Ralph a panel with her version of Wazzoo's words.

Ralph looked at the panel, then back at his. "Hmm, Okay. Let me think for a minute." He bent his head over the drafting table and started to scribble. His braid fell over his shoulder and his glasses slipped down his nose. He shoved the braid back and pushed his glasses up. They had set up in the lounge or living room of the big house. The light was fantastic, ceiling fans kept the air moving and they had a view of the olive grove out the window. Not too shabby, thought Kathleen. They decided to work some mornings just to stay caught up. Kathleen looked over at Maggie who was engrossed in her own coloring. Patrick was in the kitchen singing an off key version of "Return to Me". She was about to peek over Ralph's shoulder again when the phone rang.

"Kathleen, is that you dear?" Her mother's voice was a little tremulous.

"Hey, Mom. How's it going?" Kathleen looked at Ralph and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, darling. Is Maggie okay?"

"Sure, she's having a ball. Loves it here. Is everything okay with the house?"

"Yes I was there yesterday. Watered the plants. Why did you take down your wedding picture?"

"Mom, I just moved it upstairs."

"Now dear, I know it's been hard for you, but..."

"Mom did you call to criticize my picture arranging or was there another reason?"

"It wasn't a criticism, dear." Margaret lowered her voice. "Jim is heartbroken that you've gone off."

Great, thought Kathleen. Just pile on the guilt. "Mom, Jim is not heartbroken. I hardly even know the man. We went out a couple of times, very casually."

"It was three times and then there was the picnic," Margaret said.

"You mean the church picnic? Mom, we didn't go to that together."

"I don't understand you. He's such a nice young man, and his parents are simply dear. He's handsome, has a good job, and is a wonderful father. Maggie needs a father. John wouldn't want you to be alone."

"I'm not alone, Mom. Look, I can't do this right now."

"Well, Jim's not going to wait around for you while you're gallivanting around in a foreign country."

Kathleen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Thank God for small blessings. "Mom, I'll take my chances."

"Kathleen, think about Maggie for a minute. Should she be exposed?"

"Exposed? Exposed to what? Two people who love each other and have sustained that love for twenty-five years? Ralph and Patrick are more stable than most of the straight people I know."

"I'm very fond of them, dear. But Patrick's illness..."

"Patrick's recovered, he's in remission."

"John wouldn't like this, not one bit."

"John is one of the reasons I'm here," Kathleen said in a quiet voice. "We never had a honeymoon. He always said we'd do it later. There was no later for us. There is no later for anybody."

"Oh, honey. After what that artist put you through, then John's accident and your...your bad time." Margaret's voice faltered.

"Yeah, my life is a regular soap opera," Kathleen muttered. "And the artist's name is Daniel, You can say his name out loud you know. It's not like summoning a demon."

Kathleen looked over at Maggie. She was in Ralph's lap, drawing another picture for him.

"Did you see Wazzoo Corners today?" Kathleen said in an effort to change the subject.

"Yes, I still don't get your comic, dear. Why does some of the furniture talk? And what is that Razz supposed to be? An elf? A dwarf?"

Kathleen smiled. "He's a sprite, Mom. The furniture talks because it needs to sometimes."

Margaret's voice was puzzled, "If you say so, dear. I still don't understand why you don't write books anymore. Irene, you know Irene Maynard? Well, I saw her at the grocery store yesterday. She just loved your books."

"It's not what I do anymore."

"I know, but your fans are so disappointed. They were wonderful books, especially for women. You have so much talent. It seems a shame to waste it on a comic strip."

"I'm not wasting my talent. I like the comic strip. It makes me laugh. Working with Ralph is wonderful. I've never had a partner before." She grinned at Ralph. "Maybe we should put you in the strip, Mom."

"Me? Oh, no I don't think so."

A demented pigeon, whose heart is good, but meddles, thought Kathleen. Who'd have thought a comic strip would be so satisfying. She had always loved the comics. Charles Schultz, Berkeley Breathed, and Garry Trudeau were her personal heroes. She collected their books, read through them when she needed to laugh. Doing "Wazzoo Corners" with Ralph was always interesting, even when they argued. Ralph was into the political side of life and she preferred to keep things light and funny. They were a good balance for each other. She quickly sketched a pigeon. Definitely a demented pigeon, maybe named Imogene or Stella.

"Mom, this is the most fun I've had in long time. Maybe I'll write another book someday."

"A romance?" Margaret said hopefully.

"Another children's book. I'm drafting one now."

"Like Love Letters from Daddy?"

"No, not exactly, this one has lots of talking animals in it." Kathleen looked at her watch. "Mom, I've got to go. There's a bunch of strips we need to finish and I'm going to read at a story hour this afternoon." Kathleen hung up the phone and sighed. "So how about we call the pigeon Imogene?"

Ralph stopped working and came over to her. He pulled her out of the chair and enveloped her in a hug.

"Margaret means well, Sugar," he said.

Kathleen hugged him back. "I know. Why don't you dump Patrick and take up with me?"

"Aha, so it's me you have the hots for. I knew it. Patrick thinks he's the one."

They both laughed. "I did have a huge crush on you in college." Kathleen smiled at her friend and kissed his cheek. "Who would have thought..."

"What?"

"We'd become partners. I always thought of you as Dr. DuChamps, my instructor. Boy, did you surprise me when you asked for a job."

"You just never know what's going to happen. Doodling for fun and profit. Selling out sure is fun. Not to mention lucrative."

"I've got it, Imogene has a mate named Herman. He never talks, just keeps his head under his wing." Kathleen bent her head and started to draw.

"Your mother's gonna know," Ralph snickered.

"No, she won't. Besides, Imogene means well; she's just a little...bossy, meddling."

"Maybe you should talk to Margaret about that."

Kathleen shook her head. "My mother thinks my greatest accomplishment in life was snagging a doctor. She doesn't get it, never will. Better to work it out in a comic strip."

* * *

The reading of Love Letters from Daddy was more fun than Kathleen expected. Every time she read her book, she felt the guilt over her marriage slip away. This book honored the best parts of John. It was especially nice to hear her words in Italian. The children seemed to be comfortable in both languages. While she autographed her books for the children, two little boys caught her eye. They stood patiently in line talking to each other. The shorter of the two had dark eyes set off by thick inky eyelashes. His face was cherubic and he was chubby in a beautiful little boy way. There was a beguiling grin on his face when he held out his book. She smiled at him and asked his name.

"Antonio," he replied in a surprisingly gruff voice. He grabbed the other boy and brought him forward. "This is my friend, Leo."

"Ciao, Antonio, Leo. It's very nice to meet you both." Leo was tall and slim. His hair was brown but not as dark as Antonio's. He stood a little behind Antonio and didn't look directly at her. Impulsively, she reached out and touched his cheek. He raised his head and smiled at her. Kathleen smiled back and did a double take. Daniel's eyes. Leo? It had to be her imagination. At that moment a short, very pretty young woman placed her hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Ciao, Ms. Peterson." She smiled at Kathleen. "We loved your book. It is beautiful. Are you going to write more books for children?"

"Please call me Kathleen and yes, I hope to although the new comic strip keeps me pretty busy. Your boys are very handsome."

"You should see them some days, they can be real devils. I am Lucia Grasso." She held out her hand and smiled. Kathleen shook her hand and returned her smile.

"Grasso, are you related to Marco?"

"Si, he is my husband. Ah, you are taking your holiday at the villa. Is it not a wonderful house?"

"Yes, we're having a great time. The house is amazing, very comfortable. My daughter loves the pool. We can't get her out of it."

"My sister talked you into reading for the children." Lucia gestured to Lilia at the cash register.

"She is very persuasive."

Lucia lowered her voice to a whisper "You mean stubborn and insistent." Kathleen and Lucia started to giggle.

"Mama, we go now?" Antonio tugged at his mother's hand.

Lucia rolled her eyes at Kathleen. "They have no patience."

"I know exactly what you mean. It was nice to meet you, maybe your boys would like to come over to swim."

"Si, they would, our house is just down the road from your place. We will make plans to get the children together," Lucia took the boys by the hand. "Say goodbye and thank you."

"Thank you and Ciao," the boys chorused.

* * *

Daniel drove into the village to pick up some things at the market and to buy Leo more sketchpads. He deposited his purchases in the truck and headed across the square. Time for a drink. He crossed to the nearly empty café and went to the back to find some shade. There was a woman seated at his usual table. He noticed her red hair immediately. She was wearing a bright blue sundress. His eyes drifted down to a pair of spectacular legs. It couldn't be... Then he saw the tiny strawberry birthmark just above her left knee. How many times had he kissed that spot? He moved closer to get a better look.

The woman opened her eyes. "Danny." Kathleen's voice was soft as a caress. She was the only one he ever allowed to call him Danny and only when they were alone.

Daniel gulped. She said one word and he was as hard as a rock. "I thought I recognized..."

Kathleen stood and bumped against the table, sending her drink crashing to the ground. She was finding it difficult to catch her breath. Daniel--it really was Daniel--here, of all places. She stared at him as he and the waiter spoke. He looked different with his hair cut short. The thick blond waves she remembered so vividly were gone. He wore jeans and a dark blue shirt. The short-sleeved shirt showed that his arms were more muscular and well defined than she remembered. His shoulders looked broader, too. As he gestured to the waiter the sleeve of his shirt rode up and she saw a strip of much paler skin. A farmer's tan. His hands were clean but looked rough. As she took a deep breath, she got a whiff of him. He smelled different to her, like Daniel, but with no overlay of turpentine and paint. He smelled more like the outdoors? Her mind took all this in while Daniel got the waiter to clean up the glass and fetch her a mineral water. Daniel turned to her with a look of concern on his face.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to startle you. Maybe you'd better sit down." He gestured toward the chair.

She sat down. "I'm fine really, just kind of stunned." Her heart pounded in her ears.

Daniel nodded and closed his eyes. "May I join you for a minute?"

"Sure."

He sat down as the waiter returned with the mineral water. Kathleen poured the water into a glass and squeezed a slice of lemon. Daniel watched her closely. His hands twisted together in his lap as his eyes traveled up her body, then down again.

"So, do I need to make an appointment for a nip and a tuck when I get home?" Kathleen asked.

"No, no you look wonderful, beautiful. What are you doing here?" He fidgeted in his chair then folded his arms across his chest.

"My family and I are staying outside the village. We rented a house in the Garibaldi vineyard. It's the most beautiful place. We're really enjoying it."

He nodded. "Are they joining you here?"

"No, they're at the house. I had to run an errand at the bookstore. Maggie doesn't want to leave the pool, she really loves to swim." Kathleen took another sip of her drink.

"Maggie's your daughter?" Daniel said.

Kathleen lowered her eyes and said. "Her name is Rose Margaret, after her grammas. We call her Maggie. She's almost four."

"What, only one little Peterson running around?" Daniel said. "I figured you would have at least two or three by now."

"No, just Maggie. Would you like to see a picture of her?"

"Sure. I think I have a picture of Leo here, too." Daniel pulled out his wallet and found the picture. Kathleen dug in her purse and held out a photograph. Daniel gave her his picture of Leo. They studied the photographs in silence.

Daniel held a picture of a laughing little girl with light red hair and Kathleen's brown eyes. Her expression was full of mischief and fun. She was holding a cookie and there were crumbs and chocolate all over her face. He noticed another photo on the ground at his feet. It must have fallen out of her purse. He bent down to pick it up. It was a picture of Kathleen with an infant in her arms. John stood behind her with his arms wrapped around both of them. Kathleen's head was tilted back resting on her husband's shoulder. The smile on Kathleen's face was achingly familiar to Daniel. She had looked at him that way once.

"I saw Leo today," Kathleen said.

"Where?"

"At the bookstore. His picture doesn't do him justice. It's funny, I thought I saw a resemblance to you. He seems very sweet and sensitive. His eyes are just like yours."

"Thanks, he can be a real handful sometimes." Daniel put the picture back in his wallet.

"Is he artistic?"

"Yeah, I think so, he's always drawing or coloring and his stuff doesn't look like a five-year-old did it," Daniel replied. He realized that he still held Kathleen's photographs. He passed them back to her. "She is beautiful, Kathleen. Like her mother."

"Thanks. She can be a handful herself."

"When was the other picture taken?"

Kathleen looked down and noticed the second photograph. "Oh, they must have been stuck together. Maggie was about three months old." She put the pictures in her purse.

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He uncorked the bottle and checked out Kathleen. Daniel shot him a withering look. "I'll manage, Dante, take care of your other customers,"

The café was filling with tourists. Dante took another good look at Kathleen as he ambled off. Daniel filled their glasses. Kathleen lifted her glass.

"Let's drink to the kids."

Daniel lifted his glass and clinked it with Kathleen's. "To the kids, may they not repeat all their parent's mistakes."

"Just the really good ones," Kathleen amended, a big grin on her face.

Daniel returned the grin. He took her hand and asked, "We were a good mistake, weren't we, Kathleen?"

Kathleen squeezed his hand for a moment and then withdrew hers. "I don't think of you as a mistake."

"You love John?"

"I married him," she replied, eyes downcast.

"So you're happy with him. Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be? A successful doctor, a good provider, can give you a trip like this. So have you taken up golf yet? Don't most doctors wives play golf?" His tone was bitter.

"I'm not going to explain or justify my marriage to you. It would have been a lot different if you hadn't..." Kathleen stopped in mid sentence.

"I don't think so. I don't think it would have been any different. Only took you a week or so to get over me." Daniel swallowed his wine in a gulp and poured more. His hands were shaking.

Kathleen slammed her glass on the table. "I was a basket case when you left. I didn't know I could cry that much. I didn't eat, or sleep. John was there for me."

"And I wasn't." Daniel's face crumpled.

She looked at him, eyes glinting with anger. "That's right, not a letter, not a phone call. Even if you didn't want to be my lover you could have been a friend. John was my friend and...well...I took advantage of his friendship and slept with him. I was so lonely for you and I needed...needed to be touched, to be held. I felt dead inside."

"Stop, Kathleen." Daniel stood up and threw some money on the table.

"Same old Danny, run away."

Daniel's face was a mask of pain, but he sat down. "It was better that I left. Sooner or later you would have left me, left Leo, moved on. And you did, right into the arms of Mr. All American, with a nice bank account."

Kathleen looked at him in utter amazement. "God, you haven't learned anything at all. I married him because I was pregnant. He stood by me, loved me. He didn't run away when things got rough."

She stood up and started to walk away. Daniel grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked at his hand on her arm until he removed it. "Now who's running?"

"Danny, I've spent the last four years missing you. How can you possibly imagine that I would have ever left you? That I ever got over you? I loved Leo like he was my own. I wanted us to be a family. You were never a failure in my eyes. Never. Until you ran away." She swiped her eyes and stared at him. "You have absolutely no idea how much I loved you."

Daniel grabbed her arm again. Her face was tear streaked and she needed to blow her nose. He held her upper arms tightly and pulled her to him. "I never got to kiss the bride," he said sadly. He touched her lips with his, gently. He felt her try to push him away for a second. Then she whimpered softly and kissed him back. He was in freefall, the kiss intensifying. Kissing her was better than he remembered. Her lips were soft and yielding under his. He was a goner. Then the world came back and he realized where they were. This was not his Kathleen; this was someone's wife. He broke the kiss and let her go. She stood there gasping for a moment and then slapped him hard. With that she picked up her bag and stalked off.

Chapter Three

Daniel made his way back to the office at the winery. He washed his face and neck and pulled out a bottle of water.

It was certainly beautiful here in this little piece of Tuscany. The vineyard was a couple of miles outside a small village, whose main tourist attraction was an ancient stone building first built by the Etruscans. Buses did stop and for a few hours each day the village was crowded with tourists. A couple of guesthouses opened in the village last summer and seemed to be doing fine. Tourists were a major source of revenue for the area. When he and Leo came here almost five years ago, the village had still been isolated, quiet. Daniel preferred that to the new influx of tourists. And now Kathleen and her rich husband were staying a quarter mile down the road. Shit, it was going to be a long summer.

Marco came in to the office as Daniel was reading the New York Times on-line.

"So what is happening in the world?" Marco dropped the mail on the desk.

"They're deciding on a design for the Trade Center Memorial."

"No doubt the Americans will pick something large. They always think bigger is better."

"This from the man with the thirty-five inch television and the giant satellite dish." Daniel shook his head. "Just so you can watch American football and basketball. Face it, you like big American stuff."

"I like their money, and I like that they want our wines." He studied his friend for a moment. "You know, I think there is an answer to your problem."

"What problem is that?"

"The woman problem. Tourists."

"What are you talking about? What tourists?" Daniel sat up in his chair. Had Marco seen him with Kathleen?

"All the tourists that move through here in the summer. Lots of women, alone, looking for..." He stopped for a moment. "My cousin Dante has to beat them off with a stick. You could do well on his cast offs."

"Dante is twenty-five, good looking, and has the morals of a tomcat," Daniel said. "I'm not so appealing." He touched his hair; there were more gray ones lately. "Besides it's better if there's some feeling there. I mean otherwise it's just mechanical."

"You sound like a woman," Marco laughed. "All machinery needs use, lubrication once in a while. If not it becomes rusted, useless."

"Marco, I say this with the utmost love and respect. You're a pig."

"Si, so my wife tells me," Marco nodded. "She loves it."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "What do you think of the summer tenants?" He tried to keep his voice light.

Marco looked up from the mail. "They seem okay, no complaints from them yet. The woman is quite lovely, and her little girl is very sweet."

"What about her husband?"

"There are two men staying there, I don't know which one is her husband. They didn't say."

"Two men?"

"Yes, two men." Marco held up two fingers. "Why are you so interested?"

"No reason, just making conversation." Daniel turned back to the computer.

"Eh, Daniel, enough for this day. Let's go home. Lucia is making pork tenderloin for dinner. You and Leo eat with us. Then we can listen to Aida. It is on the radio from LaScala tonight."

Daniel nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'll pick up some gelato for dessert."

"Ah, I must go into the village. I will pick up the gelato. You go home. I'll meet you there."

Daniel returned to Marco and Lucia's house as the sun was setting. Leo ran out of the yard to greet him.

"Papa, come see my picture," Leo cried. "It's on the table." Daniel smiled at the little boy's excitement and followed him into the kitchen. Leo held up a drawing of a woman with red hair reading a book. There were smaller figures seated around her in a semicircle. Daniel noticed that Leo's proportions in the picture were very good. He also noticed that the woman's red hair was not crayon red but a mixture of oranges, yellows, browns and reds.

"This is really good." Daniel held the picture in his hands and crouched beside the boy. "The colors in the woman's hair are especially nice."

"The sun was shining on it, Papa, it was pretty. She is pretty."

"She sure is," agreed Daniel. So Kathleen read to the kids today. Sounds like something she would do. Lucia came into the room with Antonio trailing behind her.

"Ciao, bello," she said patting the top of Daniels's head as she walked towards the stove. Daniel stood up and smiled down at her.

"Ciao, Lucia," replied Daniel. "Thanks for keeping my boy." He mussed Antonio's hair. The little boy beamed at him.

"They were good boys today. They liked story time at the bookstore." Lucia surveyed Daniel's face. "You don't look so good."

"Dinner smells great," He grinned hoping that Lucia would leave it alone.

Marco chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. He plopped the gelato in the freezer then grabbed Lucia around the waist and soundly kissed her. Antonio clamored around their legs for attention. They scooped him up and included him in their embrace. Antonio giggled when Marco started to tickle him. Leo leaned into his father. Daniel picked him up and hugged him.

Daniel sat Leo next to Antonio and then took his usual seat. Marco poured some wine for Daniel and himself. The boys drank juice. Lucia served the fragrant pork tenderloin.

After dinner, the boys wanted to spend the night camping in Antonio's bedroom. Daniel and Marco tucked them in while Lucia loaded the dishwasher and put the leftovers away.

Daniel was thinking about going home when Lucia offered him another glass of wine. They sat on the stone patio and listened to Aida. Daniel felt some of the tension in his body dissipate. The three of them sat, enjoying the air, comfortable with each other.

Marco sipped his wine. "Dante told me that you had a drink with the lovely lady staying at the house. He was very impressed."

"Yeah, what impressed him the most? The fact that she slugged me or her running away in tears?" Daniel replied. "I sure have a way with women."

Lucia raised her eyebrows "Ala Madonna. Is that your Kathleen?" She looked at Daniel.

He nodded. "She wrote the book that she read to the children at story time. Love Letters from Papa. She signed the copy I bought for the boys. I'll go get it."

Daniel took a large gulp of his wine and set the glass carefully on the table. "I'm kind of in shock. I went to the café for a drink and she was sitting there."

Lucia returned with the book. She handed it to Daniel with the back cover open, showing the author's photo on the flap. The photo of Kathleen leaped out at him. She was pictured with Maggie in her arms. Daniel traced her image with his fingers. "I didn't know she was writing children's books. She wrote romance novels when I knew her."

"She was wonderful with the children today. The book deals with a difficult topic, but there is humor and so much love in it too. She must be a very strong woman, a good mother. If I were in her situation, I don't know if I could do something like that," Lucia sat down and took the book from Daniel.

"What are you talking about?" Daniel reached for the book.

Lucia held the book back and turned to the dedication. She read aloud. "Dedicated to the memory of John Peterson, my beloved husband, and to Rose Margaret Peterson, the little girl whose Daddy writes to her from heaven."

Daniel felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.

Lucia then flipped to the back page again and read the paragraph underneath the photograph of Kathleen. "Kathleen Doherty Peterson is the author of fourteen novels. Her Restless Hearts series is the winner of several Romance Guild awards. Currently she and her partner, Ralph DuChamps, are the creators of the comic strip Wazzoo Corners. She lives in Wayzata, Minnesota with her daughter Rose Margaret (Maggie) and her cat "Murray". All proceeds from this book are donated to United Nations Children's Fund."

Daniel was speechless; he broke out in a cold sweat and found it difficult to breathe. Kathleen was a widow. He grasped the stem of his wineglass so hard it shattered.

Marco and Lucia jumped up and began babbling to Daniel in Italian. Lucia ran into the house for the first aid kit. Marco urged Daniel to hold his hand up to slow down the bleeding. He began to pick up the broken glass. Lucia made Daniel come into the kitchen so she could clean the cut properly. Daniel sat at the table while Lucia bandaged his hand. Marco came in and deposited the broken glass in the garbage. Marco and Lucia exchanged worried glances with each other. Finally, Lucia spoke.

"So, this woman you dream about is here. Of all the places in Italy, she is a few hundred feet away. God had a hand in this."

Daniel looked at the two of them. "She didn't tell me John was dead; I didn't know. I said some things to her today that were cruel, I just didn't know. Oh God, I never thought I would see her again and by some miracle when I do, I hurt her."

Lucia put a comforting hand on Daniel's arm. "Cara Mia, you are going to burst if you don't talk about this."

Daniel's first reaction to Lucia's offer was to refuse. He felt uncomfortable, talking about his emotions. But these two people cared about him very much; they were really the only family he and Leo had. He wanted to talk about Kathleen. He had not spoken to anyone about her in four years. So, Daniel nodded and said. "How much wine do we have?"

Marco laughed. "We live in a winery, I think there is enough." He got up and pulled out glasses and a couple of bottles. Lucia looked at the book again.

"I will check on the boys." She returned a few moments later, carrying a couple of ratty paperbacks. "Kathleen wrote these books, Marco." She handed them to him. He studied them for a minute and then exchanged a glance with his wife.

"I didn't know you read trashy romance novels, Lucia," Daniel said.

"We both read them--to each other." Marco put the books down. "They are not trash. They are passionate, beautifully written and erotic. Isabella's Soul takes place in Italy. It is her best, I think."

"She was in the middle of that one when I started renting space from her. She had this incredible loft in Tribeca. A whole floor of an old factory, high ceilings and big windows. I needed a place to paint away from home. Sylvia was always complaining about the smell. Kathleen helped me out. Gina talked her into it."

"Who is Gina?" Lucia asked.

Daniel laughed. "Gina and I grew up together. She's a pain in the ass. Like a sister. Her family looked out for me."

"So you fell in love," Lucia said.

"No, not right away, I was married to Sylvia when we met." Daniel closed his eyes. "God, I was such a pompous ass. I thought everything but my art was beneath me. I ridiculed her work, her friends. I still don't understand why she put up with me. Must have been her obsession to take in strays. We got to be friends, close friends. There was this, this connection between us, hard to describe. Then I realized, finally, that I was in love with her. I didn't want to be. I wanted my marriage to work." He took a long swallow of wine. "She dated some, not as much as you might think, given how successful and lovely she is. Never seemed to meet the right guy. Not that I minded, none of those clowns were good enough."

"You were jealous," Lucia said.

"Sure, I was, but I was married." He poured himself another glass of wine. "Then Sylvia took off. Couldn't live like this any more, she said. Wanted to enjoy life. She didn't want to be tied to a man who would never amount to anything." Daniel looked from Lucia to Marco. "Kathleen stuck right with me. She fed me, stopped charging me rent. I kept pushing her away and she kept coming back." He stopped and took a deep breath.

"So were you just friends?" Lucia asked.

He shook his head. "Gina has a Halloween party every year. Another friend of ours, Tom, wanted to change costumes with me. You see, he was Frankenstein and the girl he was trying to pick up loved Star Wars. I was Darth Vader. So we changed costumes. Then Kathleen came running up to me a few minutes later in tears."

"Why?"

"She was upset because she thought that it was me who was all over that girl. She was jealous," Daniel said. "I was too stunned to speak. I followed her home and took off my mask, and kissed her. That was it. That was the moment. She loved me. Me..."

"Then you had a night like in her books." Marco grinned at him.

"No, Marco, we had a night that was better than anything in her books. We spent the next week locked up in her loft. The best time of my life was with her."

"What happened?" Lucia asked.

"Sylvia came back, then Leo was born." Daniel put his head in his hands. "I had a lot to deal with, especially after Sylvia left again. I couldn't accept the fact that Kathleen loved us. I knew that she would figure out that I was a loser, like Sylvia did. She was always trying to take care of us, make everything okay. I couldn't handle it. So I drove her away before she could leave me. Ran away with Carlo's help. He gave me this job and the house." He smiled ruefully. "Then I got a group show at a gallery in New York. Never expected it. I had been turned down by that gallery before. It was the work I did when Kathleen and I were together. Remember that trip I took?"

"Ah, yes. Leo was almost a year old."

"Took all the money I had for the tickets. Stayed with Gina's parents." Daniel's voice was getting hoarse. "I wanted to see Kathleen, show her that I wasn't a complete loser. Show her that I could take care of her. Thought we could start again."

"It was too late?" Marco asked.

"She was engaged, pregnant. A week away from her wedding," Daniel shuddered. "John was back in her life. They were together when she was in college. He was everything I'm not: successful, confident, perfect for her. The last time we spoke, I wanted her to hurt like I was hurting. I said terrible things. She tried to make me understand. But I wouldn't listen to her."

"Ah, but your show was a success."

"Yes, all my paintings sold. I got a good review. The only painting I didn't sell was a portrait of Kathleen. I left it with Gina to give to her. It was my best work and my last."

"So you left this incredible woman, who inspired you, who loved you, believed in you." Marco shook his head in disbelief.

"I did. She loved Leo too, wanted us to be a family. And I tossed it away."

Marco stood and put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I may be a pig, but you, my friend, are a jackass."

"Tell me about it." Daniel drained his glass.

Lucia saw that it was well after midnight. The boys would be awake in a few hours. "You love her, even after all this time." Lucia stroked Daniel's bent head. She felt him nod. "So, Amore, perhaps you need to see her and apologize for being a jackass."

"You think?" Daniel raised his head and stared at Lucia.

"Si, it is a good idea."

Marco finished his wine.

"I'll start with an apology," Daniel yawned hugely.

"Take the couch, Get some rest." Lucia dropped a kiss on his forehead.

"It's okay, Lucia. I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Marco said in a tired voice. "Take the couch, we can talk more tomorrow.

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