Page 46 of Gelato at the Villa (Suitcase Sisters #2)

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Claire and I never recovered from our visit to Italy. We didn’t want to.

Nathan saw a change in me immediately. So did Emma.

He said my love for him and Emma and especially my love for God seemed bigger.

Fuller. Claire’s love for God and others was unmistakable.

She looked and acted like a different woman.

Her new haircut played an interesting part in her renewed life because her bangs no longer fell forward and hid her expressive eyes.

Jared loved everything about her transformation.

On most Sundays our families sat together in church and then had lunch, gathered around a table at a restaurant or in one of our homes.

As the weeks unfolded, I followed the footsteps of Christ into a brand-new pace of life.

I closed out the longtime ophthalmology practice of my boss.

Even on the very last day, he didn’t have any words of thanks or appreciation for what I’d done over the years.

So I chose to thank him for the job and for the experience I’d gained as well as the valuable lessons I’d learned.

Somehow, I thought that was what Paulina would have done.

On the Saturday morning after my final day, I took Emma to the coffee shop where Claire and I met, and the two of us sat at a corner table. “Now that I’m not working,” I told her, “I want you to know that I’m available.”

“Available for what?” Emma asked.

“For you. For us. For more time to do fun things.”

Emma gave me a hesitant look. I realized she had spent far too many years hearing about how stressed I was and how busy I was.

She didn’t know how to respond to me attempting to tell her that I valued her and I wanted to spend time with her.

I knew now that girls need their moms in some seasons more than others. Claire had taught me that.

“This is what I want to say to you, adorable Emma.” I leaned closer so that I wouldn’t embarrass her by anyone else hearing us. “I am sorry that I let my job take over so much of my energy the past few years. Please forgive me for not making time to give you more attention.”

“Mom.” She glanced left and right, clearly embarrassed.

“Just know that I love you and I’m available.” I leaned back, leaving my declaration on the table. “Oh,” I added with a sincere, dipped-chin gaze, “and I love you.”

“You said that.” Emma’s slightly repressed grin told me that my words had planted a seed. I felt a sweet and fervent passion for the opportunity that was now before me. I couldn’t wait to watch our mother-daughter friendship grow.

My dad was so intrigued with my vision of cleaning up and expanding my garden, he came over with some of his lawn maintenance guys.

They brought rented equipment, and the expert workers turned the soil and prepared a large area of our big backyard for planting.

I was going to have the biggest garden I had ever planted.

I wasn’t home the day they made the earth ready and was grateful for that, because the scent of fertilizer lingered for a couple days.

Several fellow gardeners from church joined me on planting day, and we became a sort of club. I found out that one of the women served at the local soup kitchen.

“Do you think I could donate vegetables this fall?” I asked. “I’d love to help serve meals too. On Fridays, maybe?”

She set everything up, and starting in early July, both Nathan and I served at the soup kitchen every Friday night.

I loved that he shared that with me. Best of all, Emma and her giggling girlfriends came one Friday night and provided dinner music.

Nathan was their bodyguard and hogged the mic at the end of their five-song set so he could tell his best dad jokes.

Nathan was also on board from the beginning with the plans for a pergola.

His answer to everything was “No, larger.” I didn’t expect his vision to exceed mine, but he was an outdoors guy.

This was a dream he’d never dared to bring up because we’d spent so much time and money renovating the inside of our house.

Claire efficiently moved through all the clearances for building permits with the city, and the patio and pergola were finished the day before Nathan’s birthday, September 21. Of course we had to have a grand party.

I invited my new gardeners group and their spouses.

Emma invited five of her girlfriends. Nathan invited everyone from his physical therapy office.

Claire, Jared, and Brooke brought two families from their neighborhood with their kids, and my mom and dad surprised us and brought a DJ with his traveling sound system.

My mom wore her new red silk scarf that Claire and I got for her in Bellagio.

As the evening cooled, she fashionably draped it across her shoulders, and in the filtered light, she looked as beautiful as any of the women whose portraits hung in the museums of Florence.

I felt more love and appreciation for my mother in that moment than I ever had in my life.

She had given me so much. She was my Paulina, and I’d never realized it.

We ate an abundance of fabulous Italian food under the twinkle lights of our brand-new pergola. I pointed out to several people where the vines would be planted.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m going with wisteria or honeysuckle.” I asked my gardener friends, “Any suggestions?”

By the end of the evening, honeysuckle had won by popular opinion.

Since we didn’t have a table yet, it was easy to clear the chairs and have our dance floor ready. The birthday boy walked over to me and held out his hand.

“May I have the honor of the first dance?” he asked me.

You know what? I didn’t care one bit that all those people, friends, family, and strangers were watching Nathan and me as we swayed and smiled and tried not to step on each other’s feet. I felt as in love with him as I did the last time we’d danced like this at our wedding reception.

When the song ended, our DJ started a tune that brought all the children and teens out on the dance floor, where they thoroughly entertained us. As the California summer sky mellowed to a lovely shade of sienna orange, I kept thinking, Simple joys are holy.

Claire sidled up to me. “I wonder, do you think there will be dancing at the wedding feast of the Lamb?”

“I hope so,” I said.

She had been making the rounds with a plate of cookies, serving everyone, and now held out the round, compass-shaped bussola to me. “Take two. They’re small.”

We laughed and gave each other hugs.

That night, after all the guests were gone, I went into Emma’s room to check on her because her light was still on.

“You okay?” I asked.

She patted the side of her bed, inviting me to sit down. “Tonight was fun,” she said.

“Yes, it was.”

“I wondered, Mom . . .”

“Yes?”

“Do you think maybe sometime you and I could go somewhere? Like on a trip the way you and Claire did?”

My heart melted. “Yes. Absolutely. I would love to go anywhere in this wide world with you, Emma.”

She sat up and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I thought of Paulina’s note about the two gifts that come from traveling and smiled. This moment was a wish that had been on hold in my heart.

I embraced my daughter a little longer and smoothed her silky hair as if it were a veil spun from sea-foam by the queen of the mermaids.