Micelli estate, summer 1992

"Tony, it looks like you put in more olive trees over there since the wedding?" Mona asked, peering over her sunglasses at the hill below the house.

Tony "Ah, yeah, Mone, we doubled the olive groves when I took over. The olive oil grown in Sicily is much more fragrant; very grassy and flavorful. I'm preparing to roll out our Micelli Riserva label under the Bellavita umbrella in two years. I've changed up our irrigation and pruning, and added this organic mulch that has really breathed new life into the trees. Matteo and I are really excited about it."

"Mmm, I see. Angela mentioned something about that, but of course, I wasn't really paying attention. That's marvelous, Tony," Mona said, taking her Aperol Spritz from his hand.

"Now that olive oil has become so commonplace as a cooking oil in the states, we think there's a real untapped market for the higher-end, more flavorful oil for salads, dipping sauces, that sort of thing," Angela explained. "We have a beautiful label designed, with sort of a crisp, vintage Italian feel to it. The label is going to tell the story of the Micelli heritage, the war, and kind of tie it all back to the longevity of a family-owned estate."

"Oh my brother Giovanni has been importing the expensive oil for years for his restaurant in Brooklyn. He uses it for a dipping sauce for the bread at the table. You add a little balsamic and pepper and Americans go crazy over the stuff," Mrs. Rossini said. "He will be thrilled you are selling something suitable stateside."

"Yeah, it's just taken a few years to get our trees to a place where I'm satisfied with the press. I'm really honored Matteo wanted to collaborate."

Angela's eyes shone with pride at Tony, amazed at all he had accomplished in four short years. In spite of their concern over navigating their next steps, their lives had fallen into place swiftly after their return home from Maurizio's wedding.

Upon their arrival back home, Tony had immediately gotten to work studying everything he could on winemaking and horticulture. With a loan from Angela, which was already repaid – half the time he anticipated – Tony had modernized their equipment and updated the vineyard with a state of the art irrigation system, resulting in a production boost that placed them in the top 1% of vineyards in Sicily.

Angela shuffled her accounts around, restructuring the firm to give Jack the presidency and control of day-to-day operations, while Angela remained chairwoman of the board. However, she retained full control of the firm's two largest accounts; Pescher Fragrance, and the new Bellavita account, both which also just happened to have European operations.

Those clients combined accounted for half of the firm's annual earnings, and Angela was confident that within a few years, she could double those numbers on both fronts. She remained fully invested, but had total confidence in Jack's ability to manage the other accounts at her growing firm; she remained active in Business Development and higher-level client relations whenever possible. As Angela ruled with mutual trust as well as high expectations, the firm experienced a high level of employee satisfaction, especially as Angela paid for all the employees and their spouses to vacation in Sicily for two weeks of the summer. She considered it a "firm retreat," and it was highly successful for creative brainstorming and team morale during the slow summer season on Madison Avenue.

On the homefront, Tony and Angela had fallen into a sweet spot of domestic bliss; Tony took over Angela's office during the day, retaining some of his duties with the kids and in the kitchen, but hiring a regular housekeeper named Alma who could be there to stay on top of the daily chores, and could stay at the house with the kids if they were traveling. She was cordial and pleasant, but preferred to keep to herself, which suited everyone just fine; in fact they had converted the basement to housekeeper's quarters, where she could be if Angela and Tony were both away, or if Tony was working from home, to give the housekeeper a bit more separation from the rest of the house. This kept her out of Tony's hair a good bit; whereas Tony enjoyed being in the center of the activity, she preferred to watch soap operas and fold the laundry in her dedicated quarters when she wasn't needed upstairs. Of course, given Tony's tiny quarters next to Angela's room for the last five years, converting the basement to a more separate housekeepers' quarters for only an occasional live-in housekeeper gave Mona plenty of fresh fodder for teasing. But she and Tony had easily fallen into a rhythm where she would happily take on things he couldn't get to, and allow him those pleasures when he wanted, and Tony was grateful they had found someone who fit so seamlessly into their home.

"Hey, Tony, did you hear the news about your friend Eddie?"

"No, I didn't Mrs. R., we've been here all summer. What's going on?"

"He married some woman in California. Eloped. She's a professor or something, I don't know. Very mysterious. Philly said he started talking all the time to some girl on the phone. The next thing you know, he goes to California, they elope to Vegas, he's moving out there. That's the word on Pitkin Avenue, anyway."

Angela's eyes widened as she and Tony shot each other a knowing look. She shook her head slowly, in disbelief. Mona chuckled quietly to herself.

Tony looked at Angela. "You haven't talked to Emily in what, two years? I haven't seen Eddie in ages."

"Well, we've been busy..."

Tony smirked. "No kiddin."

"You guys – these two are ready to party!" Sam emerged from the house in her bathing suit and sunhat, with a sarong tied around her waist. On her hip, an 22 month-old baby girl with luscious dark chocolate curls. Clad in a pink striped swimsuit and yellow flower sunglasses, she giggled wildly as Sam tickled her tummy. Trailing behind them, holding Hank's hand was a same aged- little boy in navy and white striped swim trunks, pouting under a sun hat and wiping his eyes sleepily.

"Or at least one of them is," Tony joked, catching Angela's eyes and mimicking Tommy's pouty frown. Angela laughed.

"Oh look at those two! Could she be any cuter in those sunglasses? But I think my little Tommy wasn't ready to wake up," Mrs. Rossini exclaimed, rubbing Tommy's back.

"Anna was chattering up a storm in the crib, but Tommy was still dead to the world. He was a pill to get dressed – had absolutely no interest."

"Ah, the old limp noodle routine. We know it well. Tommy takes after his mother when he first wakes up," Tony cast a teasing wink at Angela, who rolled her eyes. "Thanks for staying by the house, guys. Can I interest anyone in a limonata? Or something stronger?

Hank settled into the pool chair. "I'll take a limonata, Tony."

"I'm okay, Dad. I'm going to take this little fish for a dip." Sam set Anna down and she immediately toddled off for the pool, pointing excitedly at the water. Sam took her hand, guiding them to the edge of the pool, sliding in first as she pulled Anna in.

"I'm glad you woke them up. Any longer and they would have been partying all night long," Angela said, pulling Tommy into her lap for a cuddle. He tucked into his mother's chest sleepily and took his thumb.

"Like last night," Jonathan grumbled.

"No one feels sorry for you, Jonathan," Sam said, spinning a giggly Anna around the pool. "Usually you're the one keeping everyone up at all hours."

"Hey, it's not my fault that half of Palermo likes to party by this pool."

Jonathan had become fast friends with the foreman's seventeen year-old son, Aniello, on his first trip to Sicily. They had developed a tight friendship, and even though Aniello was a bit wilder than Angela would have liked, she credited him with bringing Jonathan out of his shell. Almost nightly, Aniello entertained friends at the caretaker's home down the lane, and always made sure to include Jonathan. The party tended to migrate to the pool once everyone was in bed, and more than once Tony had to come out and lay down the law in his pajamas.

"The joys of having toddlers and teenagers at the same time," Tony grumbled, unbuttoning his shirt. "I guess we'll sleep when we're dead, Angela." He slipped into the water, stretching out his arms for Anna.

Sam set Anna in the water, helping her paddle the short distance between them.

"Oh, you wouldn't change it for a second, Dad," Sam teased. Anna put her face back in the water, blowing bubbles, then looked at her father, blinking away the drops, her eyes sparkling with delight under her wet lashes. She took Tony's face between her two pudgy, dimpled hands and planted a wet kiss on her father's nose.

Tony laughed and responded by blowing a slobbery raspberry on her cheek, permeating the air with her delicious squeals.

"You got that right, sweetheart."

She pointed to the sky.

"Dada! Pee-do! To Sammy!" she pleaded.

"What do you say, Anna Banana?"

"Peeeeeeeeese!"

"Okay, Sammy, you ready for this little torpedo?"

"I'm ready, Dad!"

Tony scooped little Anna into his arms and tossed her the short distance to Sam, who caught her in a fit of giggles. She tossed her to Jonathan, who took over for a round of Motorboat, Motorboat. Tony smiled as she proudly put her face in the water to show Jonathan how she could blow bubbles. Angela had enrolled the twins in a tiny tots swim class over the school year, knowing their newly mobile toddlers would be around the water all summer. Fortunately, the pool wasn't too close to the main house, but it still made her nervous.

He looked over at Angela. Tommy was perking up a bit as he sipped on some lemonade, his round toddler tummy pooching over his trunks, tanned little toes dangling from his mother's lap. She whispered something in his ear, presumably about getting in to swim with Anna and Tony, and he responded with a shake of his head and a small pout.

She responded by pulling him in for a tighter cuddle and he happily nuzzled into her, lemonade straw still firmly in mouth. Tony shook his head smiling; did that kid have her number. If it wasn't for Tony laying down the law with these two, they'd be spoiled rotten. But every time he watched her with their babies he thought his heart might burst in to flames right there on the spot. For as "undomestic" as she always claimed to be (almost proudly so), she was a most natural mother.

Anna pointed to the side of the pool. "I get out?"

Jonathan perched her on the side of the pool and she squatted down, her toes curled over the edge.

"I fim, JoJo!"

"Whoa, big girl. You're going to jump in to swim to me?" Jonathan looked at Tony. "Is this okay, Tony?"

"Yep, she learned it in her swim class."

"Let her swim to the surface by herself before you grab her, Jonathan," Angela called from the patio table. "It's part of her survival swimming."

Tommy pointed at the pool. "Nana fimmin!"

Jonathan pushed her through the water, paddling and kicking her chubby little legs back to her father.

"Dada, Pedo?"

"One more 'Pedo and that's it baby girl. Dada's gotta to start dinner."

He tossed her in the air and thought back to how they had gotten here; it still felt a bit like a dream.


AUGUST, 1988

"Angela, good grief, we're going to Brooklyn, not Buckingham Palace, wouldja step on it, please?"

Angela fussed with her floral dress, purchased just for their traditional Labor Day weekend dinner at Mrs. Rossini's. She always tried to wear something that felt extra flirty and feminine in Brooklyn, hoping to downplay her corporate image. "I know, Tony, I don't know why I get so nervous, I just still get the feeling that Mrs. Rossini doesn't approve of me."

"Look, Angela, she loves you, but she's probably always going to be a little sad that I'm ending up with a non-Italian, non-cooking, non-domestic Anglo woman. She thinks all men need these things to be happy. But she knows you make me happy, and she actually really loves you, so it's very confusing for her. You're very exotic in the land of Brooklyn; she doesn't know what to do with you. But she's always bragging on you to her friends."

Angela looked unsure, "Really?"

"Really. She's a stuck in her ways Italian woman. They're a dime a dozen in the old neighborhood. Trust me, she wouldn't have called you for fashion advice for Mikey's wedding if she didn't love you."

Angela nodded, but looked like she was about to cry.

"Oh eh - Angela - hey, what's wrong?" He pulled her into a hug as she began to cry.

"Tony, there's something else I will never be able to do for you." Suddenly, Tony realized her insecurities went deeper than her usual worries about being accepted as one of the gang at Veal Parmigiana night in Brooklyn.

"Angela - hey, what is it?"

"Oh Tony, I didn't even tell you about this before because I didn't think it was a big deal, but I had my follow up appointment with my gynecologist today. We talked about my cycle being kind of out of whack at the last appointment, and she wanted to run some tests since I'm, oh you know,"

"A little bit older now?" he offered helpfully.

She nodded.

"Angela, whatever you're going to say, it's okay. I mean, I know it might be upsetting for you, but don't worry about me. We've already done this, I don't need anymore kids. I'm happy."

"She said it was likely we wouldn't be able to get pregnant without, well, intervention."

"Well that's not so bad, Angela. A lot of women need a little help. If that's what you want, we'll do it."

"I know, but we always said, if it happens, it happens. I don't want to go through all that at my age. Hormone shots and procedures and ovulation tracking and pregnancy tests every month. I'm not even sure I want more kids."

"Well I'm not sure either, Angela. We both have a lot going on right now. And if I'm bein' real honest, I don't want you to go through all that, especially with me traveling all the time, you'd have to do those shots and things alone. I don't want that for you. I don't need more kids to be happy with you. And so I think then we have our answer. If it isn't going to happen, that's okay. We have two fantastic kids already. I love you. Finite. The end."

She nodded. "Thank you, Tony."

He kissed her on the forehead, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Now, look - you're a knockout, I assure you Mrs. Rossini is going to love you in this dress. And then later tonight, I'm going to love taking you out of this dress," he smiled wickedly.

She poked his chest playfully, "Hmm, we'll see about that, mister. I always come back too stuffed from Brooklyn to even consider further activities," she planted a long, lingering kiss on his lips, letting him know she could probably be persuaded differently.

"Mmm, I'll have to keep a tight rein on Mrs. Rossini's spatula then. Or steal your third helpings for myself. Why don't you go out and join the kids and Mona in the car, I'll be out in a minute; I left something upstairs."

He squeezed her hand as she turned around to fuss with her hair once more in the mirror. Satisfied, she went to join the kids in Tony's new Jeep.