Upon their return from the Alps, they found frost had dared to kill Damon's first crop.
Bonnie said she was tired and went to bed.
Damon poured over Internet forums and books, driving back and forth into town to obtain whatever device or concoction that was recommended to save his venture.
Bonnie drank. A lot.
Damon considered locking up his liquor cabinets but thought about how much of a hypocrite he would be to open it for himself to finish a bottle or two, like he did when he finally uprooted one of the trees to see how much damage had been done at the root.
When he saw the black veins of the tree, he believed all had been lost.
After he pulled up that tree they fought for days; over silly things, trivial things and big things too.
And then one morning, an elder neighbor, a former olive farmer came by to check on the young couple with the silhouettes of trees.
He took out his pocket knife and hacked at the bark, cutting a piece to put into his mouth and told Damon how to make something dead come back to life.
"Ancora buono."
Damon got to work, following the farmer's wisdom, from dusk until dawn, and when he was done, he read poetry to his despondent lover, cooked her meals and ran her baths until she no longer wanted to fight.
He crawled into bed, the bed she had been in for over a month and told her that he knew what it felt like to want to give up, and she could if she wanted to, but she could only give up when she was feeling good, when she was smiling.
They made love.
And then the season changed.
And the olives came in.
And Bonnie smiled.
And he remembers the mirth between them at that time. Him, fresh out of the shower, and her standing in the bathroom with him, bent over the pedestal sink, brushing her teeth, rubbing her calf with her bare foot in her flimsy nightgown and that moment when he heard it, it was a singular rapid thump, a drum beat, a speck of the universe growing inside of her.
DBDBDBDBDBDB
Stefan knocks as he opens the nursery door, "I brought this," he shakes a sippy-cup with warm milk, "Caroline's orders."
"I missed the transition from bottle to big girl cup, " Damon looks on at his brother with widened eyes, "What else did I miss? If you tell me she has called your forehead Da-Da or Blondie down there Mama then I will set this house on fire."
"Don't worry, she's resorted to calling me 'Fan and she hasn't formed a name for Caroline yet, Caroline thinks its because her name is harder, but I think the kid is working on something good."
"Its not nice to make fun of your wife Stefan." He grins; glad to hear his and Bonnie's place had not been stolen in his daughter's heart.
Damon snuggles his daughter who has relaxed back into the comfort of her father's arms, with her Dora the Explorer sippy cup tilted up.
Stefan reaches over and tousles silky black curls and Damon smiles up at his brother and before he is able to open his mouth to express his heartfelt gratitude, Stefan cuts him off, "Don't. We're family and she has been a bit of sunshine for everyone around here."
Damon brushes his lips on the crown of Ava's head while he rocks her in his arms, "You know after having Ava, I finally understood Bonnie. I hadn't loved anyone more than you and Bonnie before, so I didn't exactly get that you would trade it all for your kid."
"Not even Elena?"
"I obsessed over Elena, but that wasn't this, " he snorts, "I should apologize to her for all the shit I put her through."
Stefan snorted, "Maybe save that conversation for another holiday, like Valentine's."
Damon laughs and the light reaches his eyes as he hugs Ava closer to him, " I'm an asshole. What can I say?"
Taking Ava's stuffed elephant from her crib, Stefan squats down to Ava's eye level and pushes it into her hands, "You are going to need this, she has to sleep with it."
Damon crinkles his brow, ready to retort, but then sighs, thankful at his brother always knowing his next move, "I won't take her tonight, we have to celebrate her birthday, and I'm sure Caroline has put all of her anxious energy into making sure it's the best damn party any one year old has ever had."
"There will be a clown."
"A clown? Doesn't she know clowns are fucking terrifying?"
"This is a French clown."
"So Cirque du Scary?"
The sippy-cup falls onto the floor from the slack mouth of the sleeping child and the brothers laugh.
And the doorbell rings downstairs and Stefan complains aloud that whoever has shown up now will be throwing his wife into a tizzy because at this hour they are a surprise guest and she only has the table set for twelve.
The baby stirs in her dreams and Damon rises slowly, cradling her head on his shoulder, "Too bad Ava's asleep, she's gonna miss her Auntie cutting someone for messing up her party."
Caroline appears at the door, forehead creased and mouth stretched into a painful line, and tells the eldest Salvatore that there is someone outside waiting to speak to him.
Author's Note
For those wondering, this story will have a happy ending
