"What do you want to do?" I ask.

He shrugs and hands back Mother's letter. "Do you want to go back early?"

"Well, we should at least finish out our month at the castle. It's only today and tomorrow after all."

"And what should I tell Aunt Rosa?"

I look down at the letter that he had to translate half of for me. "I don't know. It does seem cruel to come to Italy and not see them. And the cruise tickets are flexible. There's no penalty for changing the dates. And I could even get a cancellation refund if we decided to just fly back after we visit your relatives."

"OK. But what about your agency?"

"Tony, I miss my agency but it seems so far away. Not just in miles. But it's a different world."

He nods. "Yeah, I wonder what's happening with Sam's divorce. The cooling-off period is over now. Maybe she needs me. But, this sounds awful, but this fantasy world in the castle seems realer than anything we left behind."

"Right. As far as Sam goes, we can still be home in two or three weeks, like we planned. And it's not as if the divorce will have moved forward much. These things take time."

"I guess if Sam really needed me, Mona would've mentioned it in her letter."

"Right. And if she were concerned, she would've planned to stay longer than a week. I know Mother. She pretends to be self-centered—all right, she is self-centered. But she does care about all of us very deeply."
"Yeah."

"Tony, I know you prefer to go to the open-air market in the morning, but could you wait till the afternoon? And then you could call the kids. At least let them know we're thinking of changing our plans."

"Good idea. And if it sounds like Sam needs me, would it be OK if we flew back in a couple days? I'm sure Rosa will understand."

"La famiglia," I murmur.

He smiles. And then he gives me a butterfly flutter hug. I laugh, remembering how I told him six years ago that I wanted his family to be my family, "you know what I mean."

"So are we telling Aunt Rosa about the maybe baby?" I tease.

"No! Although don't be surprised if she asks why we haven't had any bambinos yet. Especially since I told them six years ago that we'd get married someday."

"Well, we did, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but not as quickly as they'd have liked."

"I wouldn't have minded it being quicker."

"Well, you may've been ready then, but I wasn't."

"I know, Tony," I say softly.

"So, uh, have you reached ovulation yet?"

"No, not yet. Trust me you'll know."

"OK. You promise not to jump me on the plane?"

"Well, it will be a ten-hour flight."

He laughs and then kisses me, and not just on the cheek. "So, uh, there's still a chance you can conceive even when it's not ovulation, right?"

"Oh, yes." I don't say that that's happened to many women who weren't trying to get pregnant.

"Well, just to be sure, maybe we should give it another try."

"Yes, if at first you don't succeed," I tease.
Of course every time we make love, it's a success, even if it's not a conception. And we both know that. But by this point, our hypothetical child has almost become a running joke. Obviously, we'll be thrilled when it finally happens, but we do try to keep our sense of humor about the process and the wait. And, yes, I know, we haven't been trying for even a month yet.

"You know, if we stay with Rosa and visit the vineyard, that gives us extra time in Italy. More chances for a 'made in Italy' baby," I point out.

"Yeah, but we might get a winey baby. Get it, 'winey'?"

I groan. "Yes, I get it."

"But that would just be sour grapes."

"Tony!"

"OK, I'll stop the puns."

"Thanks a bunch."

Now he groans.

And then within half an hour we're groaning for a much more pleasant reason. Even though I know our honeymoon is far from over, the end is now in sight and that makes me a little sad. I want this honeymoon, and this lovemaking, to go on forever, but of course it can't. Real life is waiting round the corner, ready to intrude again. At least we were lucky enough to escape it for awhile.

"Do you want to come over with me?" Tony asks a few hours later.

"No, I think I'll just sunbathe a bit."

"You know if I believed you, I'd be very tempted to stay."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I know you. As soon as you're alone, you'll work on that account, even though Mona said it wasn't urgent."

"Well, I might mull it over while I'm sunbathing."

He kisses my cheek. "Don't work too hard, Cara Mia. You can do that on the plane."

"If I'm not too busy luring you into the restroom."

"Or the cockpit."

"Oh, you!"

"What?" he says innocently, as if he can deny the dirty pun.

"Go to the market. Call your daughter."

"Should I call Sam or Jonathan?"

"Call both if necessary, although I think they've been hanging out a lot this summer, so one call may do it. Tell them I love them and miss them." I do love them. Maybe I haven't missed them as much as I should've. I feel a little guilty about that.

"Of course."

He gives me a warm hug and kiss goodbye and then, whistling, he heads downstairs. I go to a window where I can see him when he crosses the bridge on foot. He must know I'm watching, because he blows me a kiss. I blow one back.

Then I pick up the two letters. I reread my aunt-in-law's first, although I have to consult the phrasebook in Tony's absence. Basically, it says what you'd expect, that Anthony must bring his beautiful if no longer so young bride to see them again, now that we are married and in Italy. We are family and must stay as long as possible.

As for Mother, well, I won't paraphrase it, since I have an odd feeling that there's something to be translated here as well.

July 26th, 1994

Dear Tony and Angela,

Now don't overreact when you see that this came by express mail rather than the regular method. It would take at least eight days if I just posted it, and by then you'll be on the cruise ship coming home. This way I can get the letter to you in three or four days, even in your remote fortress.

And don't worry that I'm writing to you at all, disturbing your idyllic honeymoon. Everything is fine. I'm fine, the kids are fine, the agency is fine. Tony's Jeep is even fine. I can say this firsthand because I took a little break from the film in order to come home for about a week, just to make sure everything was fine.

Samantha seems to be starting to get her life back together. She's not going to contest the divorce and she's starting to look ahead to the future. In fact, she has a promising job interview in a couple days. Tonight I'll help her decide on an outfit. As for Jonathan, he's mostly having a lazy summer, but he studied hard his first year at MIT and he deserves to relax. And he and Sam have been shooting hoops and throwing Frisbees, so it's not as if they've been couch potatoes. They've mostly been using Sam's car if they go anywhere, so, Tony, your Jeep should be as you left it.

As for the agency, Jack is on top of things, as he was when Angela went to Iowa. There is a slight snag with the Fall campaign for Drucker's Dress Shop, but they should work it out by the time you're home. Something about sleeveless vs. strapless, I don't know the details. And if they don't work it out, well, it'll probably keep till you're back.

I'm not sure when I'll come back to Connecticut, but I'm afraid I probably won't be there to greet you. You'll have to greet me. Definitely by the time Jonathan heads back to school, and I'll try for Sam's birthday. I'll update you on Heather and Michael's baby then, if there's any news there, although I suppose they won't rush to tell me if there is. Still, as the child's half-brother's grandmother, I have a right to know, don't you think?

Have fun,

Mother Mona

So you can see why I start jotting down ideas on the back of Mother's letter, trying to recall what I can about the Drucker account. I can't do a full campaign revamp, especially without being able to consult my staff, but maybe I'll call Jack from Rosa's house, just to check in. It's been a few days since Mother wrote the letter and it may all be settled by the time I call.

It is nice to think about advertising again. I have missed it a little. But I think I adapted to this life of decadent leisure much more easily than Tony did. He seems happy to do the housework here. (Castlework?) I in contrast have been very idle. Well, I've read a little, but nothing too challenging. Oh, and I've taught myself some Italian of course, but not enough to get by if I were on my own.

Although I'm not much of an artist, I want to sit out in the sunshine and do some rough sketches for the campaign. I grab my pen and some scratch paper and then go out onto the balcony that faces towards the bridge. I imagine Tony in the marketplace, haggling and joking in his best Italian. I also picture him calling our children, nagging and rejoicing. (I'm hoping Sam got the job she interviewed for this week, even though Mother didn't send any details.)

I find myself doodling Tony's face and then Sam's and Jonathan's and even Mother's. I also try to sketch our baby, but it's hard without knowing what features he or she will get from each side. And I also try to capture some of this beauty that surrounds me. And then finally I settle in enough that I can draw sleeveless and strapless dresses.

And then once when I look up, I see Tony crossing the bridge back. He's running so fast that he's passing the bus and the cars! I can't see his face but he's not carrying groceries.

I set down the pen and paper and go downstairs. By the time I take the elevator down from the castle to sea level, he's running up to me. I haven't seen such a panic-stricken look on his face in at least two years. Not since Sam's elopement I think.

"Pack your bags, Angela!" he yells. "We've got to go home!"