Meant to be

The Vineyard - Evie

Nothing can compete with the beating overbearing heat of Italy in August, the constant stream of ice creams, sorbets and ice lollies consumed to compete with heat exhaustion. The overflow of alcohol topped with ice, margaritas, limoncellos, any cocktail imaginable offered every hour. Spending the evenings in the many acres of the vineyard sampling the different wines as Nonno spoke about the grapes he'd grown giving us the same tour he gives us every summer we spend here. Sometimes after our wine tours, Nonno would playfully run into the vineyard yelling that someone better start counting declaring a game of hide and seek. Obviously Ra-Ra or Honey who's still breastfeeding don't drink any wine and easily win against the rest of us who can barely stand, let alone run and hide. All of this makes spending summers in Italy at their home perfect. They've had the same house since they had Dad, the eight bedroom yellow stone property with terracotta tiles that they kept pristine, evident by the way the vines never grew more than two metres off the ground. With a large pool in the back that regularly hold a game of chicken fight and Marco Polo, staying here is the best way to relax before starting a job next month.

Hopping out of the Jeep Wrangler before Nonno pulls up properly, I make a beeline for the house wanting to get to the shower first. Driving, packed with my family in the sweltering heat for an hour and a half makes me a feel a little gross. Unfortunately everyone else in the jeep has the same idea, before I know it we're pushing and shoving each other, like we aren't adults in our twenties. The front door swings open and Nonna stands in the large frame before we get to the wooden veranda that wraps itself around the house. We stop in our tracks, waiting for the stern looking Nonna to discipline us. On one hip she holds Callie in her arms, Luca and the eleven month old Magali who's just learnt how to walk cling to the side of Nonna's dress.

"Your grandfather was kind enough to take you to Livorno for a couple of days and you can't stay and take the bags in? He's not Hercules you know" she scolds, her Italian coming at us fast, the kids simply look up with your bottom lips sticking out, confused as to what's going on but they can hear her tone.

"We're sorry" we mumble, feeling shame at our actions, it had been a lovely couple of days down by the coast on a boat Nonno had bought. We'd made memories that I don't see us forgetting anytime soon and all I could think about was getting out of the heat.

"Don't tell me, tell him" she said, curling her lips, proud that she'd manage to make us see sense. Turning around, we walk back to Nonno, all of us grabbing our own bags and equipment to ensure Nonno didn't have to carry anything.

"When you're looking for a partner, make sure you find one that'll defend you to the ends of the earth. Even against your own grandchildren" he chuckles, his eyes on Mason, Michel and Leo, having some sort of silent conversation with them. They nod as if promising to do so, Don simply laughs putting his arm around Honey, kissing her temple, content that he didn't have to search any longer.

"Honey! Can I ask you something?"

"Why do I suddenly feel persona non grata?" Don mumbles, ruffling my hair causing my loose bun to come undone, my hair flops at all angles including over my face. He laughs childishly like he isn't twenty five, married and a father of two, sticking my tongue out. I shake my hair to clear my vision so I don't trip.

"Begone husband of mine" she teases, also sticking her tongue at him. He blows a kiss at her before catching up with the rest of the boys, who are already in the house.
"Okay shoot, what's up?"

"How do you and Don do it? Raise two kids and still have time for each other? Like keep that spark alive? I don't think I've ever seen you look tired either" I watch her laugh, just as she dumps her bags on the veranda sitting down on the swing set that Nonno made for Nonna as a present almost a decade ago, it squeaks as we sit on it but it's pretty sturdy, or at least I hope.