The Itinerary

Three Years Later

The morning sun cast a warm, honey glow over the rustic Tuscan villa and its sweeping grounds. Haley basked in the tranquil atmosphere as she relaxed on the chipped stucco loggia overlooking rows of gnarled olive trees and rambling grapevines heavy with fruit.

This idyllic pocket of northern Italy had become her safe haven over the past few years. After wrapping up her graduate studies, she'd sought respite from the relentless chaos and demands of American life. So she relocated to the sleepy village of Montepulciano, working remotely as a freelance writer and cultural columnist to fund her modest new existence.

The winding trails and cobbled lanes offered Haley the serenity to raise her young son Luca in relative peace. At nearly three years old, the precocious towhead with his riotous curls and infectious giggle already exhibited an adventurous spirit to rival any Romany wanderer. He spent hours roaming the villa's sun-dappled grove while Haley worked from her pergola desk, all the while vigilantly monitoring her rambunctious bambino.

"Mamma! Mamma, look!" The high-pitched chirp shattered the tranquility as a tiny whirlwind came barreling around the corner in a flurry of chubby limbs and dusty footprints.

"Luke, bambino, what have I told you about running inside?" Haley scooped up the giggling bundle, smothering his rosy cheeks in noisy kisses until his squeals echoed across the terracotta terrace.

"I'm not running, Mamma," he insisted in that earnest, lisping tone. Gripping her face in his dimpled hands, Luca drew their noses together in an eskimo kiss. "I'm 'sploring like a pirate! Arrgghh!"

With a snort of laughter, Haley hugged him close and breathed in his sweet, sunwarmed scent - a delicious blend of orange zest and peppery meadow grasses. Moments like these, brief and transitory as a butterfly's hovering, made all the upheaval and heartbreak endured to bring him into the world feel like the grandest cosmic blessing.

"Well then, my roguish little explorer, best be wary of hungry ogres about," she growled in a theatric timbre, nipping at his ticklish sides until he collapsed against her in a breathless fit of giggles. "They do so love nibbling on pirates who stray too far from the ship!"

"No ogres, Mamma!" Luca protested with a vigorous shake of his tumbling chestnut locks - so reminiscent of another lushly disheveled bed-head. "I'm a braved buccaneer who eats scary monst—"

An abrupt hammering at the villa's arched front entrance cut off his boisterous declaration. The pealing ring of the doorbell quickly followed in a raucous peal.

Haley frowned at the disturbance - the seclusion of this rural hamlet meant few visitors ventured out this far unless absolutely necessary. Setting Luca back on his feet with a gentle pat to his tousled crown, she said, "Why don't you guard the ship while Mamma goes to see who's calling on us, hm? I'll be right back, tesoro."

She swept a trail of kisses along his crown before standing and smoothing the lightweight linen of her long duster cardigan over her cropped tank and frayed denim shorts. Not the most presentable outfit for receiving guests, but in these isolated vineyards, decorum often bent to comfort out of necessity.

The sharply rapping knock resounded again just as Haley neared the intricate scrollwork doors. She recognized the authoritative cadence as that of Soren Gatti, the family patriarch down the road who oversaw most of the village handymen and tradesmen.

"Un momento!" she called out, unlatching the lock and swinging the portal wide.

But it wasn't Soren's affable, weathered face haloed in the doorway's hazy morning light. Instead, a painfully familiar set of chiseled features and sculpted body greeted Haley with a force that damn near stole her breath.