Tanya squirmed in her seat and slipped a pillow beneath her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. A foreign country… She had never been out of her own country before, never flown for any distance. She shivered, remembering tales of horror flights and crashes, and refused to think about it.
She would think about her new home, she decided. Her new home on the Italian Riviera. She sighed. Thus far, all her attempts to find out more about La Mimosa had come to nothing. The responses from the Italian municipalities told her no more than that she owed a good deal of back taxes. The notices were intimidating. She rubbed at her nose, which always seemed to itch when she felt nervous. What was she flying toward, what would her new life be like? Tanya's stomach knotted with anxiety. It would be fine. She knew it would be fine.
Tanya stared in front of the entrance of La Mimosa, near Carmel, on the Italian shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea. She watched Charles unfold a complex series of chains from the majestic wrought iron gate. As they drove the road climbing toward the mansion, winding through the woods, Tanya's breath caught. The silvery leaves of the olive trees flashed and fluttered in the breeze; the umbrella pine trees, their bare trunks graciously bent, spread their spicy scents. At one last curve the mansion appeared before her. It looked like an enchanted castle ready to come alive-its red tile shingles glittering in the bright sun, its imposing, ornate portal eager to receive guests, its closed shutters ready to open at her magic signal.
Ah, how wonderful! Tanya stepped out of the car and wandered, half in dream over the property. Far different from what I've ever seen, she thought, taking deep breaths of the balsamic air.
A small orchard of peach trees and apricots grew on the eastern side of the mansion. Roped together, Cabernet grape vines grew on the ledges of rising tiers, each reinforced by stony walls. Tanya kept looking around, enthralled.
"Tanya?" Edda's voice broke into her reverie. "Tanya, you must come in. You must see! The pictures…there are so many!"
"Pictures, you said, Edda?" Tanya asked, walking back to the house.
"Oh, yes, many pictures. Portraits. Come see!" Edda sounded very excited.
The house had been closed for a long time. The air smelled dusty, although all of the windows were open to let in the soft sea breezes. She entered a big room, a reception hall, Tanya thought. The light, muted and glowing, stroked the walls and the myriad paintings covering them. Two long paintings dominated the large hall, life size. There were brass plaques attached to the bottom of each frame, engraved with a name. The left one read 'Michele,' the right one, 'Mafalda.'