They resumed walking toward the sunflower field. The dog followed them.
“It looks like you won’t have the privacy you were hoping for.” Dante tilted his head in the dog’s direction.
Anabella laughed. “No. I suppose that was the harm in feeding him. He won’t let us out of his sight now.”
“Maybe you can take him back to the rose farm with you. I’m sure you can always use a good working dog.”
“I already have a dog. Mamma would probably not take too kindly to my bringing home a stray dog that could carry illness, as she would say. When I was a little girl, I pleaded with her for us to take home a stray cat I saw by the side of the road when we were driving back from Siena. But no matter how much I begged, she kept saying, ‘We don’t know what illness the creature carries. Cioccolato would get mad at you anyway.’”
“Cioccolato?”
“That was my dog when I was a child. We now have Bruno, his son. We bred Cioccolato since he was such a good work dog on the farm.”
“Ah. I see. Surely, Bruno would enjoy the companionship of another dog.”
“Why don’t you take him? You live alone. You must get lonely.” Anabella smiled shyly.
“True, I do get lonely, especially when you’re not around.” Dante’s eyes grew heavy as he stared into Anabella’s eyes. Their gazes met for a few seconds before Anabella looked away.
“I have enjoyed being your model and seeing the paintings and drawings you have created of me. If I could find a way to do it on another day, other than Wednesdays when Mamma comes with me to sell the roses, then I could continue our work. But I have no idea what excuse I can offer to her so she doesn’t get suspicious.”
Relief washed over Dante as he heard Anabella say she wanted to keep seeing him. Surely, they could figure something out.
“Can you say you’re going grocery shopping as you did today?”
“But that would give us even less time. And I’m supposed to be shopping closer to where I live in Pienza. I will already have to race to buy my groceries today and get home at a reasonable hour.” She looked at her watch and stopped walking. “You were right. This walk is too far. I won’t make it back in time after I go shopping. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“That you wanted to spend more time with me?” Dante placed his index finger beneath her chin, tilting it slightly upward so she would be forced to meet his gaze. He lowered his lips toward hers and kissed her softly. But soon their kiss deepened. They continued kissing until the sound of a car horn beeping loudly forced them to pull apart.
“Forza!” The man behind the wheel of a Volvo stared at them, holding his fist up in the air.
“Idiot!” Dante yelled at him, but the car had sped up and was soon out of their sight.
“Let me walk you back to your car. I don’t want you to be late.” Dante took Anabella’s hand again. Every few seconds he lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.
“It is all right if you no longer want to see me, Dante. I would understand.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“It’s too much trouble. This was all a bad idea.” Anabella let go of his hand, even though Dante tried to hold on to hers. “I’m sorry, Dante.”
“Stop.” Dante grabbed Anabella’s arm, forcing her to stop walking. “You do want to see me. I can tell when I kiss you. I know you feel just as strongly for me as I do for you.”
Anabella looked down, but Dante lowered his head, forcing their eyes to meet.
“I do like you, Dante. And if it were all up to me, I would keep seeing you. I like spending time with you.”
“It should be all up to you. Your mother is scaring you. Anabella, you are a grown woman. You can make your own decisions now.”
Fear filled her face. “What will I do if she gets mad? I have nowhere else to go but the farm.”
“Surely your mother would not throw you out of your home?”
Anabella shrugged her shoulders.
“You said she has never hit you. I can’t imagine she would be so cruel as to kick you out.”
“Mamma is the sweetest person I know—at least with me. But that doesn’t mean she has never been angry or become upset with me. She relies on me a lot, and she is getting older. I don’t know if I could ever leave her.”
“Haven’t you dreamed of marrying and having children someday like every other young girl has?”
“No, not really.” Anabella’s voice sounded very small as she said this.
Dante’s heart reached out to her. Of course she had never had the same dreams that other young girls possessed. In this moment, he realized that her mother had never encouraged her to have a life beyond the rose nursery. Anabella’s mother had probably never talked to her about setting goals for the future. For why should she when she planned on having her daughter live out the rest of her days on the farm, keeping her company and tending only to her needs? Anger coursed through him as he thought about Signora Ferraro’s extreme selfishness.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but please hear me out before you refuse. What if I were to come by your house and meet your mother? I would let her know that I only have the most honorable of intentions toward you. I would ask her if I could court you, just like the old days. This way, we wouldn’t have to sneak around and come up with elaborate plans for seeing each other.”
Anabella quickly shook her head. “I don’t think it would work.”
“But isn’t it worth a shot? What do we have to lose? She’ll say no, and then we can still meet secretly—although yes, it will be harder. But all that matters is that we both want to be together. We can make it work.”
“I cannot share your optimism, Dante. Mamma would probably never let me out of her sight again.”
Dante could see that happening. He sighed deeply.
“I should get going.”
Dante nodded. “Will you do me a favor? Can you try to call to let me know if you will be able to meet next week? That is, of course, if your mother isn’t accompanying you. I think we should still try to see each other until we can decide how best to deal with this situation with your mother. I don’t think we should give up right away. Besides, it would be nice to hear your voice more than just once a week.” He smiled.
“All right. I should be able to call you once Mamma goes to sleep. She goes to bed quite early since she begins working shortly after dawn.”
“In the meantime, I’ll keep thinking of ways we can continue to meet without arousing your mother’s suspicion. But Anabella, the day will come when you will have to let your mother know about me, whether you like it or not. I know you need time, and I won’t pressure you.”
“Yes, I do need time. You have to understand, this is all new to me.” She took a deep breath. “Who knows? Maybe I am underestimating Mamma. Maybe she will come to adore you as I have.”
“You adore me?”
Anabella smiled, her cheeks burning up. “Ciao, Dante.” She reached up on her toes and kissed him on the lips before running off to her car.
He waited until she pulled away from the curb.
As he pedaled his bike back home, his mind raced with possible ways he could continue to meet Anabella—or rather possible lies she could offer to her mother. He hated the deceit of it all. That was why he had also suggested meeting with Signora Ferraro. But Anabella was too afraid and not ready to tell her mother about him yet.
Please, God, don’t take her away from me, he silently prayed.
When Dante passed the sunflower field and saw again the flowers that were beginning to die, his spirits plummeted even more deeply—for he couldn’t help seeing it as an omen of what was to come.
CHAPTER 17
Anabella
Siena, 1970
Anabella was leaning against the open window, staring out into the sunflower field. She wore a long, flowing sundress. A warm breeze came through the window, causing the hem of her dress to lift, revealing her tanned calves. One of
the straps on her dress dangled seductively off her shoulder. Her hair was casually tossed over her left shoulder, and her chocolate-brown ringlets swirled in every direction. Dante had placed two roses in her right hand and instructed her to hold them down by her side. At her feet, rose petals lay strewn across the floor.
While Dante painted Anabella, she shivered slightly as she thought about Dante’s gaze on her. At times, she felt he had stopped painting and was merely staring at her intensely. She smiled to herself, reveling in the feeling that he was observing her. Her stomach fluttered. She swallowed hard as she contemplated that she had not only had the courage to go to Dante’s apartment, but that she was now standing in his bedroom, a few feet away from his bed. If Mamma only knew. Anabella’s pulse raced in fear. She had never been alone with a man before in his home. What was she doing? Still, it hadn’t been difficult for her to say yes when Dante asked her if she would go to his home and let him paint her there. She had only paused for a moment before agreeing. The truth was she wanted to be with him as much as possible, and each time they met, the feeling only grew. Being here alone with him intensified her feelings for him. She tried not to think about the fact that she was in his bedroom. Thus far, Dante had shown her the utmost respect, and she trusted him.
Though Anabella had led a sheltered life on the rose farm, she was not completely ignorant of the ways of the world—or of what happened between a man and a woman once they got married. When she’d begun puberty at thirteen years old, Chiara had taken her aside to explain to her that she was now officially a woman. Anabella remembered her words as if it had just been yesterday. . . .
“I am sorry that I am the one to be having this conversation with you, Anabella. It really should’ve been your mother. But it is hard for her to talk about such subjects. Do not be upset with her, and please don’t let her know I am having this discussion with you. You are like a daughter to me, and I feel it is important to educate you. Someday you will need to know all about what I am telling you.”
Chiara had spoken to Anabella gently as she explained how babies were brought into the world. At first, Anabella had been afraid when she learned the details, but Chiara had assured her she would be fine, and she would grow to love a special man someday. But at thirteen, Anabella couldn’t imagine leaving Mamma to go live with a man she hardly knew—even if he were her husband. As Anabella grew older and became more curious whenever she saw couples kissing and embracing in town or at the Piazza del Campo, she had wondered what that felt like, but not enough to want it for herself—until now.
Though she desired Dante and knew he desired her just as much, she would not make love to him until they were married. That is, if he ever asked her. Lately, she’d begun wondering what life would be like if Dante proposed and they married. She thought about the home they would share. She closed her eyes. It was crazy for her to have such thoughts so soon. She’d only met him a couple of months before, and neither had expressed their love for the other yet.
In addition to the magazines Chiara had given Anabella when she was a teenager, she had also given her novels. Anabella’s favorites were the novels by Jane Austen. In these books, she’d seen how women were courted by men and how the couples professed their love for each other before they married. As with their secret conversation when Anabella was thirteen, Chiara had asked Anabella to keep the magazines and books hidden. Anabella didn’t understand why the magazines would upset her mother so much. After all, hadn’t her mother once fallen in love with her father? But Anabella knew Chiara was right, and so she’d never breathed a word to her mother about her hidden magazines and books.
“Let’s take a break, Anabella,” Dante said, interrupting her thoughts.
Anabella leaned away from the window, noticing her elbows were beginning to get sore from having rested on the windowsill for so long. She didn’t mind. The little bit of discomfort she felt when she posed for Dante was worth it. She still marveled at his talent and how he could create such stunning works of art.
Dante turned his easel so that the painting was facing the wall and away from Anabella’s inquisitive stare.
“I don’t understand why you can never let me see the works while they are in progress.” Her voice conveyed her slight annoyance.
“It wouldn’t be the same if you saw the paintings for the first time before they are completed. I want you to see and feel every sensation I am trying to convey in my art, and how can that be possible if you are seeing a half-finished piece? Ah?” He walked over to Anabella and wrapped his arms around her waist as he placed a soft kiss on her lips. He then held her tightly against him.
He softly rubbed the small of her back, sending little ripples of pleasure throughout Anabella. She pulled away slightly so she could look up into his eyes. As she lifted her chin up and parted her lips, Dante took the cue and kissed her. His hands left her waist and came up to cup either side of her face. She heard a soft groan escape his lips. Then, abruptly, he pulled away.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. We should step outside and get some air. It’s stuffy in here.”
Anabella saw his gaze momentarily land on his bed. When Dante saw she’d noticed, his face turned as red as the roses she’d been holding. She took a deep breath, understanding suddenly why he’d ended their kiss and his need to leave the apartment.
Once they were outside, they walked over to the field. Anabella sat down on the ground. She was beginning to feel more and more at home whenever she was in the sunflower fields, almost as much as she’d felt on the rose farm. Lately, she’d begun losing interest in the work on the farm. She knew her mother had noticed. Anabella didn’t know why she’d begun feeling this way. She looked at the sunflowers. They were beautiful. Yes, they looked dramatically different from the roses she’d been surrounded by her entire life, but that didn’t mean they were less beautiful. They were different. After all, there were many other flowers besides roses that were equally as stunning. But Mamma had always talked about the roses as if they were the only flowers that mattered. And her hatred for the sunflowers was perplexing. One night last week, Anabella had almost asked her mother why she hated sunflowers so much. But the memory from that day, when Anabella was a child and had witnessed her mother’s outrage over the sunflowers in her room, was enough to keep her from asking.
“Where are you?” Dante knelt down beside Anabella and tucked a few strands of hair that were covering her face behind her ear.
She held on to his wrist and stroked his arm. It was now easy for her to show him affection, unlike when they’d first met.
“I was just thinking how much my mother hates sunflowers.”
“Really? How can you live in Tuscany and hate sunflowers? They’re everywhere.”
“It is odd when you look at it that way. I have no idea why she hates them so much. But I can’t even mention them to her or have them in the house. I still remember the two times that happened when I was a child and how angry my mother was. It was the angriest I’ve ever seen her.”
“You don’t really know a lot about your mother, do you?”
Anabella’s face grew sad as she shook her head.
“Does she ever talk about your father?”
“Very little. I know that they loved each other very much, and she was devastated when he died. I used to ask more questions when I was a child, but then I would see how sad it made her, so I learned to stop asking.”
“I can understand that from when my mother died.” Dante’s face looked pensive.
Anabella leaned back so that she was now lying on the ground. Dante joined her. He turned on his side to face her.
“I have something important to ask you.” His voice had a slight tremor.
She turned to face him. “Please, Dante, don’t be afraid. I hope you know you can tell me anything.” Anabella reached out and placed her hand on his cheek.
He cupped his own hand over hers as she sighed deeply.
“Will you let me
come to your home so I can finally meet your mother and ask for her blessing to court you?”
Anabella pulled her hand away from his face and rested her head back on the ground as she looked up at the sky. The sun was playing hide-and-seek with the clouds. She wished she could hide behind one of the clouds right now.
Since that morning when Anabella had told Dante they would have to figure out a way to continue seeing each other, they had met in secret. The two of them had plotted different scenarios to give to Signora Ferraro so she wouldn’t question Anabella’s whereabouts or if she came home later than expected. But it was getting harder to come up with more lies. She always felt a stab of guilt after she’d lied to Mamma, and there were times she had told herself it would be the last time and she would just come clean with her. But every time Anabella tried to work up the courage to do so, the fear of her mother’s reaction would consume her. There had even been occasions when Anabella had considered ending it with Dante, but the thought of never seeing him again hurt too badly. Though she hated deceiving her mother, she hated more the idea of not being with Dante.
“Anabella, I love you.”
She turned her head toward Dante. Her heart leapt at finally hearing him say he loved her.
“I have since I first laid eyes on you at the piazza.” He laughed. “I think I might’ve even fallen in love with you after I began dreaming about you. It’s crazy. I know. But I can’t deny you’ve had me under your spell since then, and once I found out that you were real and I came to know you, I only loved you even more.”
“I love you too.”
Dante looked at her questioningly. “You do? Really? You don’t have to say that out of fear of hurting my feelings or because you feel pressure to repeat it because I’ve said it.”
She reached out and placed her index finger on his lips. “Shhh! Haven’t you been able to tell that I feel the same way? You said it yourself when we met outside the café a few weeks ago, that you could tell I wanted to be with you. That was absolutely correct. I’ve never felt this way, and you are the first man in my life. But I don’t care about meeting anyone else. I want to be with you.”
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