Giulia’s eyes widened in awe when we pulled up in front of the splendid white bungalow on the beach. Mia owned the house beside it, but we rarely visited this place at the same time, even if she’d been insisting on a family vacation for a while. Simona had fallen asleep in her seat, but Daniele’s face flashed with recognition. He’d loved this place in the past. I worried even that had changed.
The wind nipped at our clothes. November wasn’t the best time to spend time outside around here, but I wanted to show Giulia this house. I wasn’t even sure why. It would have been more impressive in spring or summer.
Another gust tore Giulia’s black cowboy hat from her head. My hand lashed out, snatching the thing out of the air.
Giulia let out an astonished laugh. “That’s an impressive show of reflexes.”
I held the hat out to her, and she took it with a sweet smile. “Quick reflexes are required to survive if you have as many enemies as I do. But I don’t know why I caught this thing. It’s ugly.” Giulia had once more chosen an outfit I decidedly hadn’t chosen for her. Cowboy boots, black shorts with suspenders, a bright pink sweater, and an oversized coat that would have fit me as well. It was a fashion nightmare.
Worry tightened her face, her hand frozen on the door. “How many attempts at your life have you survived?”
I tried to remember. It was difficult to say. There had been so many. Only a couple had gotten close.
Giulia shook her head. “Never mind, if you have to think about it this long, I probably don’t want to know. Just promise to be careful, okay?”
I walked around the car and opened the back door then lifted Simona out. Giulia and I had already fallen in a sort of routine where my children were concerned. She handled Daniele and I handled Simona. It made our life easier, even if it turned my heart to ice that my son refused to be close to me.
“Can you take Loulou’s transport crate?”
I took it from the trunk. Giulia had insisted we take the dog with us, even if I’d have preferred to let Sybil watch it. Refusing Giulia was more difficult than it should have been.
Pressing Simona protectively to my chest to shield her from the cold, I led Giulia toward the front door. She had trouble carrying Daniele on her hip. Even though he was a thin boy, he was tall for his age and Giulia was petite. It would have made more sense for me to carry him.
She set him down the moment we were inside and looked around in wonder. The interior, like the outside of the house, was white. The back of the house facing the beach was almost entirely made of glass windows, giving views of the dunes and ocean. The marram grass bowed down under the force of nature, and dark clouds hung low over the water. Even on tumultuous days like this, the white of the furniture illuminated the house without electricity.
Giulia rushed toward the windows, peering out. Her eyes drifted to the left where a swing swayed gently in the wind. The porch protected it from rain. She reached for the handle.
I set down the dog crate then carried Simona over to her white cradle. She was still sound asleep. “It’s too stormy. We can go outside tomorrow.”
Giulia pouted, looking like the teenager I tried to pretend she wasn’t. Sometimes I managed to forget, especially when she handled the kids and in bed, but I wasn’t always successful.
Daniele stood beside her. She held out her hand, and he took it. I froze, my heart squeezing a little tighter. With a smile, she led him toward the crate and released the dog. It creeped out slowly, looking around.
“If it pees on the white carpets, it’ll sleep outside.”
Giulia rolled her eyes as if she thought I was joking.
The dog began to sniff everything. At least, it didn’t attack my pant legs anymore.
Daniele followed the dog like he was a lost puppy.
“I’ll get our luggage,” I said before I went back out into the cold. When I returned with our two bags, Giulia stood in the open fridge. I carried them into our bedroom down the hall before I joined Giulia in the kitchen. “I told my housekeeper to stock the fridge.”
“You have a housekeeper for your beach house?”
“Mia and my parents have houses on the same beach. The housekeeper takes care of all three.”
“What about Ilaria.”
“Too far.”
Giulia nodded. “So… can you cook?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Of course not.”
“Of course not,” Giulia said quietly, looking into the fridge as if it was her demise. “I guess I’ll just have to try my luck, then.”
I watched her assemble an array of vegetables, rice, and chicken on the counter. “Do you like Asian?”